Chapter 96

Theodore

As we crossed the area towards the seating, around the combat pitch, I struggled to keep a straight face. The scene unfolding was almost too good to be true. Owen’s wife and Nora trailed behind him and Lucas, looking thoroughly out of place and entirely ignored. The nobles, who had been so cordial and warm with each other earlier, acted as though the two women didn’t exist, settling into their seats beneath the awning that was just big enough to cover the original seating. Nora and Owen's wife were given seats off to the side without shade. They could move their seating farther away to be under the shade of the tree, but Seraphine didn't seem to offer or care what they did. The serving staff worked their way through covered area before stopping at their little table with trays of drinks.

I noticed there was an empty spot to Seraphine's right. To her left was a much younger girl with Dorian's eyes. She couldn't have been more than 12 years old.

The serving staff set a pitcher of water on the table, as well as the water goblets that they'd used with lunch and then they left. As far as I could tell, they dropped a tray of hor d' oevres, but there weren’t many on the tray. The serving staff didn’t meet their eyes, their cold efficiency underscoring just how unwelcome Owen’s entourage truly was.

I watched them for a little while longer. Nora and Owen's wife glowered at the table, and looked up. Owen's wife got to her feet, turning looking as if she was going to start a fight with Seraphine. I shook my head. What a fool. The little bench they would have to share was made of stone. It would probably be a bit warm given the height of the sun, but they had no one to blame but themselves.

Nora, clearly unhappy, gestured toward the tree, and Owen’s wife reluctantly moved to help her drag the bench into its shade. The bench creaked under the effort, drawing amused glances from several nobles who were too polite—or too cunning—to outright laugh.

I caught the grin on Seraphine's face as she exchanged a few quiet words with Dorian. She was clearly enjoying the spectacle, though Dorian kept his expression schooled into something close to propriety. I looked over at Owen and Lucas who were standing together, looking disgruntled and uneasy. Music came though the speakers and Lucas looked up, catching my eyes and scowling at me.

I smiled, wishing he'd come over. I wanted him to give me a reason to break his face in.

“Tell me,” I said to Violet, “do you think they’ll even make it through the first round?”

Her gaze followed the movements of Owen and Lucas, her expression calculating.

“I think,” she replied, her voice quiet and sure, “that they’ll come to regret ever stepping into this territory.”

I couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up.

Dorian's voice came through the speakers. I noted that there were cameras. I remembered Violet telling me that it was to have a formal record in case anything went wrong during the fights and head of lawsuits before they could even start.

“In keeping with tradition,” he began, a sly smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, “our first match will feature the newest addition to our noble alphas—Alpha Theodore Nightshade, alpha of Midnight and Luna Consort of Darkmoon… pitted against our very own, Alpha Violet Donovan of Darkmoon and Luna of Midnight.”

I cocked an eyebrow and looked at her. Was it normal to pit husband and wife against each other? I suppose Violet wasn't exactly the norm, being the only female alpha in the country. The crowd murmured in approval, the warm reception catching me off guard. I shot Violet a look, but she seemed perfectly at ease, her composure as unshakable as ever.

Dorian continued, his tone almost too warm. “We’re all eager to witness firsthand the combat prowess of Alpha Nightshade. After all, we are invested in seeing how well he’ll settle into noble traditions.” He wiggled his eyebrows. "I think we can all agree, we look forward to the Winter Moon Melee."

A cheer went up. I had no idea what that was, but Violet seemed misty-eyed and touched at the thought. I couldn't be sure if it was a compliment or a test, but when Violet looked at me with that reassuring smile, I couldn't help but smile back.

“You’ve already won most of them over,” she murmured, her voice calm and confident. “Consider this a chance to seal the deal. Having noble allies is always a good thing.”

That didn’t stop the knot of unease forming in my stomach. Fighting Violet? In front of an audience this critical? It felt like a trap to make me embarrass myself or go to far. The magic humming in the air was distracting and I could feel it charging me in a way I couldn't explain.

We headed toward the pitch. Violet detoured to one of the attendants as the crowd hushed with anticipation.

From the sidelines, I caught Owen muttering to Lucas.

“What’s she planning to do—fight in that dress?” he sneered, his voice carrying just enough to make sure we could hear. “Seems impractical.”

Violet hummed reaching for her waist and unclipped the fastening of her skirt. Violet unwrapped it, revealing the sleek romper of a different fabric. Seraphine wolf whistled at her, earning a peel of laughter from the lunas seated in the stands. The young girl giggled. Violet rolled her eyes, taking a bow as she handed off her skit to one of the attendants and braced her foot against the railing, adjusting her shoes. They morphed into flat boots that were probably reinforced like my dress shoes were. They came up to her knees and looked armored.

She looked dangerous. Powerful. She looked absolutely delectable. Then, she was shrugging off the short jacket, leaving her in nothing but her shirt and vest. I had to wonder where in this ensemble her draggers were hidden now. I wondered if it was against the rules to try and figure out.

Dorian chuckled into the microphone. "You're just as bad as your mother."

Violet saluted him, and the nobles chuckled approvingly, and the faint smirk on Violet’s lips made me grin.

"Your jacket, Alpha Nightshade?"

I blinked and shrugged out of it. My daggers were in my vest, not my jacket, so it was fine.

I walked onto the pitch to face her.

"I expect a nice clean fight," Dorian said. "Newlyweds withstanding. My daughter is here."

"I think she'd prefer a good fight," Violet said, saluting the young girl.

"Fighting pretty men is the best."

My heated and the ripple of laughter rang out. Violet grinned, tilting her head.

"She thinks you're pretty."

"Thanks?"

Violet shrugged. "Better than being ugly."

I shook my head.

"My daughter's aesthetic preferences aside. No holding back. First to disarm wins. I expect great thing, Alpha Nightshade."

I turned to look at him, curious about his tone. He smiled at me.

"The former Alpha Donovan was… famous for saying that Violet would never be a proper luna until she found a proper alpha."

Violet dropped her gaze.

"He was also an idiot, but as her godfather, I'd appreciate knowing I can trust you to have her back."

My heart skipped a beat as Violet gathered he hair up into a ponytail out of her face and removed her earrings. She stretched her arms.

"We'll have to be careful. I went through a lot of trouble picking out that suit for you," Violet said, giving me a once over. "And the gracious tailor will be mad at you if I manage to damage it."

I scoffed, but I believed her. "Agreed. I have an… investment in this look."

She smiled, striking a pose. "You like it, hm?"

"A bit too much for mixed company. Disarming. No funny business?"

"Why, darling, where's the fun in that?" She slid her feet aside, taking an offensive posture, but she didn't draw a dagger or anything else.

I rocked back and rolled my shoulders.

"You're going to be the death of me."

She winked. "I'll make it a good one."

I met Violet’s gaze, and for a moment, the world around us disappeared. The weight of the audience, the presence of Owen and Lucas—it all faded into the background. Staring into her eyes, watching the light of amusement and something more dance playfully in her sparked something warm and playful in me.

A rumbling, appreciative growl rumbled through my chest. It was like being back in the forest, hunting but better. The challenge in her eyes made me hot under the collar. The band on her forehead seemed to glow and I smirked.

“Ready?” I asked, my voice low but steady.

Her grin was sharp, almost predatory. “Always.”

The signal was given, and we darted at each other, grinning like children.