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Chapter

Twenty-Five

" I reject you."

Mia's voice cut through the room like a silver blade, sharp and absolute.

Matthews' hand froze mid-strike, his claws inches from Jim's throat. The declaration—the official words of mate rejection—seemed to physically ripple through the air between them.

Around the room, wolves who had been frozen in horror suddenly straightened. Gerald's weathered face split into the ghost of a smile. Young Danny actually gasped. Hope flickered in eyes that had moments before held only despair.

"As Alpha of Wolf Valley," Mia continued, stepping into the circle with measured strides, "I reject you physically and spiritually from this territory, from this pack, and from any claim to me as mate."

Matthews slowly lowered his arm, releasing Jim who slumped against the pillar, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. The Northern Alpha turned to face Mia, disbelief etched across his features.

"You can't?—"

"I can and I have." Mia's voice carried to every corner of the suddenly silent room. The storm outside seemed to pause, as if nature itself held its breath. "The Alpha's right of rejection supersedes all Challenge outcomes. It's the oldest law we have."

Elder Agnes nodded once, her ancient eyes watching the scene unfold with something like approval. "It is so."

Matthews' composure slipped, the black veins beneath his skin becoming more pronounced as rage overtook him. "You would reject the strongest mate? Risk war between our packs?"

"I would." Mia took another step forward, her wolf rising to the surface, eyes glinting with gold. "And because this rejection might cause harm to you and yours, might lead to war, I invoke the Right of Alpha Challenge."

Gasps echoed through the hall. The Right of Alpha Challenge was even older than the Mating trials—a direct confrontation between pack leaders, traditionally used to settle territorial disputes without full pack warfare.

"Alpha against Alpha," Mia declared. "To the death. Witnessed by Supernatural Law Enforcement." She gestured to Bertram and Jasmine, who stepped forward with grim determination.

A desperate howl tore from Jim's throat as he struggled to stand, to intervene. Through their bond, she felt his panic, his desperate need to protect her even as his body failed him. Bertram moved quickly to his side, angelic strength restraining him despite his wild struggles.

"Don't do this," Jim rasped, blood speckling his lips. "Mia, please?—"

Mia didn't look at him. Couldn't. If she met those green eyes now, her resolve might waver. Trust me, she sent through their bond. For once, let me save us.

"As I promised you before, Matthews," she continued, her voice steady despite the hammering of her heart, "I play by the rules. Always have."

Matthews' nostrils flared as he assessed her—the smaller female Alpha standing before him with unshakable certainty.

"Are you brave enough to accept a challenge from a female Alpha?" Mia taunted, circling slowly. "An underdog? Or will you run back to your territory with tales of how you were bested by a former deadline wolf?"

The insult struck its mark. Matthews' eyes flashed red, the vampire blood in his system responding to his rage.

"You've caused harm in my territory," Mia pressed.

"I believe it with every fiber of my being, though I lack concrete evidence that would satisfy a Council.

" Her gaze never left his face. "So I challenge you as an Alpha wolf to Alpha wolf.

Accept and stay to fight, or leave with your tail between your legs.

Either way, I reject you officially before the supernatural community. "

The trap was elegant in its simplicity. By pack law, a rejected mate had two options: accept the rejection peacefully, or challenge it through ritual combat. Matthews had no choice but to either fight Mia or sacrifice his reputation forever.

"I accept your challenge," Matthews finally growled, the words seeming to scrape his throat raw.

A circle formed once more as Jasmine stepped forward, her voice carrying the authority of Supernatural Law Enforcement. "This challenge will be conducted according to the Ancient Rites. No interference. No weapons. Wolf against wolf."

Mia nodded, her hands already moving to remove her clothing. The Ancient Rites required combat in wolf form, pure and unadorned. As she stripped, her eyes found Jim's across the room.

The desperation in his gaze pierced her heart, but she gave a small nod—trust me.

Matthews shed his remaining clothing with military efficiency, his body revealing more of the blackened veins as he prepared to shift. The scent of vampire blood grew stronger, a wrongness that made the wolves around them bristle instinctively.

Elder Agnes approached with a wooden bowl carved with the pack's ancient symbols. "The ritual wine," she announced, offering it first to Mia as the challenging Alpha.

Mia accepted the bowl with both hands, bowing her head to the Council in respect for tradition. The wine was bitter and earthy, connecting her to every Alpha who had come before. She drank deeply, then passed the bowl to Matthews.

He hesitated only a fraction of a second before drinking, completing the ritual. The wine would prevent outside interference with the shift—ensuring both combatants transformed fully into wolf form for the duration of the battle.

Mia closed her eyes, calling her wolf forward. The shift rippled through her body, faster and smoother than it had ever been. Bones reconfigured, muscles stretched and reformed, fur sprouting across her skin until she stood on four paws, her white-silver coat gleaming in the stormy light.

Across from her, Matthews underwent his own transformation. His shift seemed to catch and stutter, the vampire blood fighting the natural process. When it completed, the wolf that stood before her was massive—white as freshly fallen snow with eyes that glowed an unnatural red.

Jim's voice carried from where Bertram still restrained him. "Mia, his strength?—"

She silenced him with a low growl.

She knew Matthews was stronger than her. He would have done lots of research on her.

But one thing he didn't know was, when Mia Lee wanted to fight dirty, she was unmatchable.

The wolves circled each other, hackles raised, teeth bared. Matthews struck first, lunging with supernatural speed, his jaws aimed for her throat. Mia twisted, smaller and more agile, avoiding the killing bite but feeling teeth graze her shoulder.

Pain flared, but she used the momentum to spin and snap at his hind leg, her teeth finding purchase in muscle. The taste of his blood was wrong—coppery but with an unnatural sweetness that confirmed everything they'd suspected about the vampire corruption.

Matthews yelped, more in surprise than pain, and whirled to face her again. His size was overwhelming, nearly twice her mass, his shoulders level with her back when they stood face to face.

He charged again, slamming into her with the force of a freight train. The impact sent her skidding across the wooden floor, claws scrabbling for purchase. Before she could regain her footing, he was on her, massive paws pinning her smaller frame.

Panic flared in the pack watching—their Alpha outmatched, outmuscled by the hybrid monstrosity. Jim's struggles against Bertram renewed with desperate strength, the bond between them screaming with his need to protect her.

But Mia hadn't survived as a deadline wolf, hadn't become Alpha, by giving up when outmatched. As Matthews' jaws descended toward her throat, she twisted violently, using her smaller size to slip partially from his grip.

Her teeth found his foreleg, sinking deep.

First dose, she thought with dark satisfaction.

Another taste of that corrupted blood, but this time she held on, felt him trying to shake her off. When he reared back, she used the opening to slash at his exposed belly with her back claws.

Blood splattered across the floor—his blood. The scent of it filled the room, the hybrid mixture causing several watching wolves to recoil.

Matthews howled in pain and rage, coming at her with renewed fury. The fight became a brutal dance of attack and retreat. Mia couldn't match his strength, but she was quicker, more agile.

Each time his massive jaws snapped shut on empty air, she darted in to deliver a strategic bite—his hind leg, his flank, the tender spot behind his front leg.

Small wounds, none fatal alone, but each carrying something Matthews couldn't detect. With every bite, he seemed to slow fractionally, his movements becoming less fluid, his reactions delayed by milliseconds.

The battle raged for what felt like hours but might have been minutes. Blood—both hers and his—matted Mia's silver fur. A deep gash along her side burned with each movement, and one ear hung partially torn. Her left hind leg dragged slightly where his claws had raked deep furrows.

Matthews hadn't escaped unscathed. A dozen small wounds leaked the strange-scented blood, and his massive frame heaved with exertion. The redness in his eyes flickered, sometimes fading to normal amber before flaring again with vampire energy.

As the fight wore on, the pattern became clear to those watching—Matthews was weakening. Each of Mia's seemingly insignificant bites was taking its toll, like poison working through his system.

With a final surge of desperate strength, Matthews lunged, catching Mia's hind leg in his powerful jaws.

The crack of bone was audible throughout the room, followed by Mia's yelp of pain. White-hot agony shot up her leg as the bone splintered. He used his grip to fling her against the wall, her smaller body hitting with sickening force.

For a terrible moment, she lay still, silver fur stained crimson. Her ribs screamed with each breath, at least two cracked from the impact. Blood trickled from her muzzle where she'd bitten her own tongue.

Matthews approached for the kill, his movements now visibly sluggish but still dangerous.