Two forces, pride and power, clashed under the moon.
Through our bond, I felt Darius's decision crystallize. It wasn't rational. It wasn't tactical. It was just wolf instinct and Alpha pride refusing to let the challenge go unanswered, refusing to show weakness before the students who'd just watched us fight desperately beside them.
Refusing to calculate when honor demanded action.
"I accept," Darius said, his voice carrying across the no-man's-land between our forces. His wolf presence surged despite his exhaustion. "Traditional rules. Alpha combat. Winner takes the academy."
Gideon's smile widened—satisfied, predatory, the expression of a hunter who'd maneuvered his prey exactly where he wanted.
"Darius, no," I said through the bond. "You're injured. Exhausted. This is exactly what he wants. Exactly the trap we identified."
"I know. I'm accepting anyway. I can't refuse. Not after everything. Not in front of the students. Not with you watching."
