CHAPTER 336: ATTACKS BEGIN...

ADAM

She did it.

The thought came slow, disbelieving, as I stared at the combat field now cloaked in an unnatural silence. The noise that had thundered through the arena moments ago had died so completely that I could hear the wind dragging sand across the ground.

The crowd was frozen—mouths parted, breaths caught. Even the royal guests from distant packs had fallen quiet, their jeweled goblets stilled midair.

Sage stood in the middle of the field, chest rising and falling, her hair sticking to her face with sweat and blood. The defeated warrior lay at her feet, motionless but breathing. She didn’t gloat. She didn’t celebrate. She simply looked down at him, lips curling into a faint, sharp sneer—one that carried both victory and disdain.

The sight stirred something in me I couldn’t name.

She’d beaten one of my best men. A trained wolf who’d been in service since he was fifteen. I’d seen him rip through challengers twice her size. And she’d done it without any weapon, without high-level magic—at least, not any the sensors had picked up.

But I’d seen it.

When she drove her fingers into his eyes, there had been the faintest shimmer—something like light bent the wrong way. It wasn’t visible to anyone else, but I’d felt the flicker of magic pulse through the field, a subtle disturbance that shouldn’t have gone undetected. Yet the instruments—the same ones we’d installed to measure magical interference—had stayed dead quiet.

Impossible.

My fingers curled against the railing in front of me as I watched her straighten, brushing sand from her arm. The techs were already scrambling at their stations, whispering to one another, trying to understand why the readings hadn’t spiked.

How did she do it? It didn’t look high level, yes, but the cry that had escaped my warrior’s lips, had proved otherwise.

Her magic didn’t follow the known rules. It wasn’t werewolf magic, or vampiric. It didn’t hum with the kind of energy witches carried either. It was... ancient. Hidden. Almost predatory.

Claire had been right about one thing—this woman was a threat.

The referee finally stepped forward, stammering slightly before announcing the result. "Winner—Sage!"

The field stayed silent for a beat, stunned by the upset. Then, slowly, the crowd erupted. Roars. Cheers. Gasps. Half disbelief, half exhilaration.

Sage tilted her head back toward the royal box. Our eyes met.

For a heartbeat, I forgot to breathe.

Her gaze was unwavering, defiant. Then—she winked.

The audacity of it almost made me laugh. In front of thousands of people, in front of royals and nobles and cameras, she winked at me. And when the whispers began—people looking around, trying to see who she’d winked at—I looked away, forcing my face into a mask of blank indifference.

Reckless woman.

She was a ticking time bomb, and I couldn’t decide if I wanted to defuse her—or see how far she’d go before she exploded.

Below, her opponent groaned faintly as his friends rushed in to carry him off the field. I recognized them—fighters from my pack, men who’d grown under my command. They were loyal, disciplined. The defeated wolf had been one of the best. The fact that a woman—an outsider—had bested him would sting for weeks.

Who was she?

Daniel whistled low beside me. "That was brutal," he said under his breath. "I think you just lost half your warriors’ pride today."

Noah chuckled. "And gained twice the betting traffic. Look at the numbers coming in. Everyone wants to see her next match against Darius."

Their voices blurred as I stared at the field where Sage had once stood. She was already walking away, shoulders straight, chin high. The crowd parted for her as if instinctively aware she was not to be touched.

Something twisted in my chest. I remembered the dream I’d had last night—the blood, the laughter, the faces of Dora and Maya drenched in red, Sage’s mocking smile as darkness swallowed everything.

I blinked it away. Dreams were just echoes of worry, nothing more.

Still, unease crawled along the edges of my mind.

I rose from my seat abruptly, ignoring the startled looks from the visiting royals who had come to congratulate me on the "excellent entertainment." I didn’t offer them a word. I needed air.

I left through the side passage that led to the royal quarters, ignoring the whispers that rippled as I passed—the crowd gossiping about Sage, about the fight, about the way she’d looked at me. My guards straightened as I approached, bowing slightly. Servants scurried aside. Every sound around me felt distant, muted.

All I could think of was her.

Darius or Sage?

My money was still on Sage.

And that was terrifying.

I wanted her to lose. For order’s sake, for stability, for the safety of this damned pack. But I couldn’t picture her dying. The idea twisted in my gut like something poisonous.

Why was she here? What did she want?

I reached my quarters and closed the heavy door behind me. The silence pressed in. My thoughts turned darker, more dangerous.

Maybe I should approach her. Befriend her. Earn her trust. Let her think I was on her side. Then I’d find out what she was truly after. I could peel her layers one by one until there was nothing left hidden.

Two could play this game.

I sighed, dragging a hand through my hair. The day had stretched too long already. I needed focus. I made my way to my private office, where the air still smelled faintly of parchment and ink. The desk was piled high with reports—financial statements, maps, letters from allies and border scouts.

Before I could even sit, there was a knock.

"Enter," I called, voice flat.

One of my guards stepped in, bowing slightly before holding out a sealed envelope. "This just arrived, Alpha. From the colony in the southern borderlands. Marked urgent."

I frowned, taking it. The seal was waxed with the emblem of a lesser lord—one Daniel had placed in charge of the smaller towns under our rule. We rarely got letters anymore; communication came through the phones.

"Why a letter?" I muttered, slicing the seal open. "Don’t they have phones?"

The guard said nothing, eyes fixed ahead.

I unfolded the parchment. The handwriting was rushed, the ink blotched in places, as if written by trembling hands.

To the almighty Alpha Adam,

We request immediate reinforcement. The attacks have begun. We think it’s them. The vampires are here.

My eyes froze on the last word.

Vampires.

For a long moment, I just stared at it, reading it again, slower this time. My pulse quickened, disbelief cutting through the exhaustion.

It wasn’t possible. Not now. Not when they’d been silent for years.