CHAPTER 160: QUESTIONING THEM

Then Lucas stepped forward, eyes like stormclouds about to break. "You’re not debating the bond. You’re debating her right to love more than one of us. You’re not afraid of imbalance. You’re afraid of evolution."

"You dare speak—"

"I dare because I was there," Lucas said, low and deadly. "I shifted beneath the Moon. I felt the bond fuse us together. And I would die before I see her cut apart to make you comfortable."

Cassius moved up beside him. "If you move to separate us, you’ll lose more than an alpha. You’ll lose the wolves who are tired of pretending that strength only comes in pairs."

Athena raised her chin. "So what will you do, Elders? Strip the Moon’s mark from me? Deny what burns on my skin?"

Lysara leaned back, her expression unreadable.

Tamren finally exhaled. "The bond cannot be undone. We cannot argue with what is sacred. But know this: the world will watch you. And if you stumble, they will not wait to strike."

Athena knew they were going to try to break the bond with her Alphas. Something she won’t allow happen.

Not in this lifeline or another.

"Let them try," Cassius said.

"Let them bleed," Lucas finished.

She was happy her Alphas were determined to make the stronger and not let anyone break them apart.

—

The training grounds were empty by the time they reached them.

Wind stirred the arena flags gently, the sun high and merciless overhead. Weapons glinted from the racks. Dust curled in lazy spirals across the floor, undisturbed.

The rage still clung to Athena’s ribs.

Not at the Elders. Not at the questions. But at the weight of always having to prove herself. She was born of divine fire and raised in the teeth of war, yet still, they measured her like a girl who had wandered into power by accident.

She needed release.

"Blades," she said.

Lucas gave her a sharp look. "Training?"

"Now," she snapped.

Cassius grabbed two short swords from the rack and tossed one to her. "What are the rules?"

"No power. No mercy."

Lucas drew his own blade, smile twisting. "Just how I like it."

The first clash was hard enough to echo.

Athena went for Cassius first, catching him off-guard with a feint and a sweep. He blocked, grunted, twisted. Lucas dove in from behind, spinning to parry her elbow as she moved. She shifted direction fluidly, instinct guiding her limbs more than thought.

They didn’t fight like they used to. Not anymore.

There was rhythm now. Breath. A beat they shared. Cassius matched her aggression. Lucas balanced her precision. They knew her weight, her reach, her feints. She knew theirs.

And the bond—Moon-forged and primal—sang in their blood with every strike.

Cassius landed a blow to her side and she gasped, laughing as she pivoted, slicing up his shoulder with the flat of her blade. Lucas caught her from behind, locked her in a brief hold. She dropped, rolled, kicked out—he stumbled, but landed in a crouch beside her.

Their chests were heaving. Sweat glistened on their brows.

The air burned with the tension of what they were becoming.

Cassius lunged. She spun to meet him.

Lucas caught her from the side, and they all fell together in a tangle of limbs, weapons flying into the sand. None of them rose for a long breath.

Cassius lay back, eyes half-lidded, blood from a split lip curling over his chin. "Gods."

Lucas exhaled. "I don’t know whether I want to fight you again or kiss you."

Athena rolled onto her side, staring at them both. "Why not both?"

They laughed—soft, wild, full of breathless adrenaline.

Then silence again.

The kind of silence that always came after battle. That stretched through the soul and made space for truth.

"I felt it in the hall," Cassius said, his voice quieter now. "The moment they looked at us like a threat. Not because of power. But because of devotion."

"They don’t understand it," Lucas said. "Two alphas, tethered by love, not war."

"They’ll come for us again," Cassius warned.

Athena sat up, face flushed from the heat, hair matted to her cheek. "Let them. We’ve bled before. We’ll do it again."

Lucas moved to kneel in front of her, cupping her face. "But now... we bleed together."

She leaned into his touch. "Always."

Cassius rested a hand on her back, his warmth grounding her. "They can test us. Question us. But they’ll never break the bond."

"No," she said. "Because it’s already been tempered."

The wind picked up again, catching the hem of her tunic. She stood slowly, dust clinging to her skin, and extended a hand to each of them.

Lucas and Cassius rose beside her.

And from the edge of the training field, hidden behind high balconies, silent observers took note:

The goddess had chosen.

The moon hung impossibly full in the velvet night sky, casting silver light over the secluded glade that had once belonged to the High Priests of the First Howl. No one had set foot here in centuries—until now.

The air shimmered with ancient magic, thick with wildflowers and crushed herbs, the scent of wolf musk mingling with something far older—raw earth, divine power, and the sharp, clean clarity of moonlight.

Athena stood at the center of the stone circle, barefoot, cloaked in a translucent silver robe that caught the moonlight and made her look like she had been poured out of the sky itself. Her breath came steady but shallow. Beneath her ribs, the bond pulsed like a second heart.

She was not afraid.

But she was aware—that tonight, something was going to change forever.

Lucas stood before her, dressed in nothing but ritual paint and leather ties, the ancient glyphs of the Lunar Pact drawn across his chest and down his arms. Cassius stood behind her, similarly marked—his gaze low, reverent, but fierce. Between them, she could feel the way their energy surrounded her: Lucas’s like thunderclouds and wind, Cassius’s like molten stone and unyielding fire.