Chapter 93: Chapter 93
Christian and Tom went at each other with terrifying violence. This wasn’t strategic combat. This was hatred given teeth and claws.
Tom fought like he had nothing to lose. Wild. Desperate. Obsessed.
Christian fought cold and calculated, but somehow more frightening because of it.
They were evenly matched until Tom went for a dirty move—throwing dirt in Christian’s eyes and then slashing across his shoulder.
Blood poured down Christian’s leg.
"No!" I screamed.
I forced myself up. Every muscle protested. I had no energy left. But Christian was hurt, and that was unacceptable.
I reached deep, deeper than I’d ever gone before, and found one last reserve of Luna power. I channeled it straight to Christian through our bond.
Golden light flowed from me to him.
Christian’s wound began healing. His strength returned.
Tom saw it happening and lunged desperately.
Christian caught him and slammed him into the ground. Again. Again. Until Tom stopped moving.
Christian’s jaws closed around Tom’s throat. One bite. That’s all it would take.
"Christian," I called softly. "Don’t."
Christian’s eyes met mine. I saw the struggle there. The desire for vengeance versus the man he wanted to be.
"Show mercy," I said. "Capture him. Make him face justice properly."
Christian held Tom there for another five seconds. Then he released his throat and knocked Tom unconscious with a blow to the head.
Tom crumpled, breathing but out of the fight.
Marcus appeared with warriors to secure Tom.
"Take him to the dungeon," Marcus ordered. "Heavy guard. Medical treatment to keep him alive, but nothing more."
Christian shifted back to human form and pulled me into his arms.
"Are you okay?" His hands ran over me, checking for injuries.
"I’m fine. You?"
"Better now." He kissed my forehead. "Don’t ever scare me like that again."
"Deal. Same goes for you."
Around us, the battle was turning. With Tom down, our warriors had gained momentum. Rogues were retreating. The eastern and southern borders were secured.
But the western front was still in chaos.
"Harold’s still fighting," Marcus said, appearing beside us. "We’ve captured three of his supporters, though. Patterson switched sides—he’s defending Shadow Ridge now."
"And Vanessa?" Christian asked.
"Diana’s fighting her. It’s... impressive. And terrifying."
We ran toward the northern position where Diana and Vanessa were locked in combat.
Diana moved like someone half her age, blocking Vanessa’s attacks with supernatural precision. But Vanessa was huge—bigger than any wolf should be.
"What is she?" I breathed.
"Forbidden bloodline," Diana panted, dodging a strike. "Thought extinct. She’s descended from the Ancient Ones."
That explained the size. The power. The tactical brilliance.
Vanessa saw that the battle was lost. Her rogues were captured or retreating. Tom was down. Harold was failing.
She made her decision in seconds.
Vanessa disengaged from Diana and disappeared into the forest, moving faster than should be possible.
"After her!" Marcus shouted.
Trackers shifted and gave chase, but within minutes they reported back through the comms.
"She’s gone, sir. Completely vanished."
Christian swore. "Secure the perimeter. She could double back."
But I knew she wouldn’t. Vanessa was too smart for that. She’d retreat, regroup, and come back when we least expected it.
The captured rogues were rounded up—fifteen total. Marcus’s team secured them in the prison.
"I want them interrogated," Christian ordered. "Find out everything they know about Vanessa’s plans."
"And Tom?" Marcus asked.
"Keep him alive," I said firmly. "The pack wants him dead, but we do this properly. Fair trial. Legal justice."
Some pack members looked disappointed, but no one argued with their Luna.
Then Harold’s voice cut through the settling chaos.
"Christian! Face me!"
Everyone froze.
Christian turned slowly. Harold stood in the center of the battlefield, bloodied but unbowed.
"I challenge you," Harold said formally. "For the right to lead Shadow Ridge. By pack law."
No. No, no, no.
"Christian, you don’t have to—" I started.
"Yes, I do." Christian’s voice was quiet. "This is the only way to end it permanently."
He was right. I hated it, but he was right.
Pack law demanded space for formal challenges. Warriors formed a circle around Harold and Christian, bearing witness.
I stood at the front, my heart trying to break through my ribcage.
Christian looked at me one last time. "I love you."
"Don’t you dare say goodbye," I warned. "You’re coming back to me."
His smile was sad. "Always."
Harold shifted first, his wolf massive and scarred from decades of battles.
Christian followed, his wolf slightly smaller but faster, younger.
They circled each other. The pack held its breath.
Harold lunged.
Christian dodged, but barely. He was injured from fighting Tom. Tired from the battle.
They collided in the center of the circle. Teeth. Claws. Blood spraying.
I felt every hit Christian took through our bond. Every wound. Every moment of pain.
Harold was older but experienced. Christian was faster but exhausted.
They broke apart, both bleeding.
Harold attacked again, going for Christian’s throat.
Christian twisted, but Harold’s teeth caught his shoulder—the same shoulder Tom had injured earlier.
Christian yelped in pain.
I nearly ran into the circle. Only Marcus’s hand on my arm stopped me.
"Luna law," Marcus whispered. "You can’t interfere."
"He’s hurt!"
"He’s also winning."
I looked closer. Marcus was right. Despite the blood, despite the injuries, Christian was landing more hits. Fighting smarter. Using Harold’s age and anger against him.
But Harold wasn’t giving up. He threw himself at Christian with desperate fury.
They went down together, rolling across the ground. Snarling. Biting. Fighting like this was their last moment on earth.
Blood stained the dirt beneath them.
Christian ended up on top, jaws closing toward Harold’s throat.
Harold twisted, throwing Christian off.
They separated again, both heaving for breath.
This was it. The next exchange would end it.
Harold and Christian charged simultaneously.
They met in the middle with a sound like thunder.
And I couldn’t see who had won through the dust and blood and chaos.
The pack held its breath.
The dust settled.
Christian stood over Harold, jaws at his father’s throat.
Harold lay still beneath him, submission or death only seconds away.
Christian’s eyes met mine across the circle.
And I saw him make his choice
