Fauna's Pov
The arena was more crowded than I had ever seen before.
Humans and witches filled the stands to the brim.
They weren't even trying to hide it—
the drool at the corners of their mouths,
the raw, primitive hunger burning in their eyes.
They wanted blood.
This was the first official fight since the day the stones themselves had cracked.
And I…
I was the first female warrior to ever step into this arena.
The Arena Master's icy voice echoed against the stone walls.
"Welcome to the Bloody Arena!
For today's opening match, we've made a few small changes—just to better entertain you."
Changes?
"This time, the wolves will face the Arena Creatures—
abominations born of ancient witchcraft, creatures that do not feel pain!"
A low roar rippled through the stands.
Curiosity, hunger, and cruelty thickened the air.
Strangely, I felt relieved.
At least…
I wouldn't have to sink my claws into my own pack.
The gates creaked open.
The moment I stepped inside, Mortia's reborn arena revealed itself.
Witch guards floated in the air, motionless and watching.
Black obsidian surrounded the soul stones like a shrine.
This wasn't an arena anymore.
It was an altar.
I glanced to my side.
Jason.
The moment he saw me, his expression changed.
We weren't friends—not really. He was the kind of boy who always tripped over his own feet whenever I was near.
But now…
Disappointment and fear flickered across his face.
As if he hated seeing me here.
Do you think I'm weak, Jason? I thought bitterly.
His eyes darkened.
"Fauna… be careful," he growled. "I'll watch your back."
Watch my—
Before I could respond, the Arena Master raised the necklace that triggered the transformation.
It didn't affect me, but Lunaire shifted restlessly, playing her part.
Bones cracked.
Fur spread.
Teeth sharpened.
Two wolves walked toward the center of the arena.
A sick kind of pleasure rose from the stands.
The crowd delighted in the sight of a female wolf baring her fangs.
Lunaire, I warned silently.
Do not speak to me. Do not heal me.
I would not reveal myself today.
Not yet.
We reached the center.
There was no enemy in sight.
Jason instinctively stepped in front of me.
Then—
With a thunderous explosion, it appeared.
My breath caught.
The creature had no face.
Where one should have been, a stretched, stitched layer of veined skin hung like a grotesque mask.
The rest of its body was bare bone.
Its arms were uneven—
one short, the other grotesquely long.
From its back jutted bone protrusions shaped like the wings of dead birds, rattling with every movement.
Silver needles glinted at the tips of its fingers.
No eyes. No ears.
Where do we even strike this thing?
It attacked first.
The silver needles flew toward Jason.
He was faster than I expected, twisting aside just in time.
As he drew its attention, I tried to circle behind it.
But the eyeless monster turned on me as if it had read my thoughts.
Its bony tail lashed out.
I ducked at the last second, but pain tore across my back.
A sharp cry escaped me.
Lunaire surged inside me, desperate to heal.
No, I begged. Don't.
Jason howled in pain.
The creature's silver claw struck him and hurled him into the arena wall.
Three deep burns scored his chest, silver searing into flesh.
Now, it focused entirely on me.
It circled.
Every step sounded like thousands of dry branches snapping at once.
The noise shattered my concentration, fed the pain in my back.
I mirrored its movements, buying time.
There had to be a weakness.
Then I saw it.
Inside its ribcage—
a heart.
Artificial.
Beating.
Wrapped in swirling purple smoke.
There.
Agony exploded through my body.
The silver claw tore into my right calf, lightning pain ripping through me.
For the first time, pure fear flooded my veins.
Lunaire raged inside me, screaming to tear it apart.
I forced her down.
Then—
Jason charged.
Despite the pain, he slammed his shoulder into the creature's side with everything he had.
The mass of bones staggered.
That was my opening.
I lunged.
Jason seemed to understand instantly.
He drove his claws into the stitched skin covering its face.
Purple smoke burst outward.
The witch controlling the creature lost her sight.
I plunged my claws into the pulsing, violet heart.
The sound that shook the arena was not the creature's scream.
It was a woman's.
The witch's cry of agony echoed as her magic died with the heart.
The stands erupted.
Applause.
Screams.
The stench of blood.
Jason staggered to my side.
We were both drenched in it.
The Arena Master forced our bodies back into human form.
Now we stood naked before humans, witches, and wolves alike.
Blood streamed from my wounds, covering just enough of me to feel—strangely—like mercy.
Then I smelled it.
Despite the blood.
Despite the sweat.
Despite Jason.
Rain-soaked earth.
Ozone.
I looked up.
In one of the private balconies, a man watched me with a dangerous, knowing smile.
The stranger from the forest.
His eyes traced every wound on my body—
not like a spectator…
But like someone who had claimed them.