Chapter 14 – "Before the Trial."
The ceremony's echo still thrummed in my chest long after the Circle dismissed us.
Outside, the sunlight was too bright, the air too sharp. I felt as if I'd just stepped out of a storm that hadn't decided whether it wanted to drown me or bless me.
We returned to the den in silence. Chyron was the first to break it.
"Well, that went better than I expected. No one tried to bite you."
Luka shot him a glare. "That's your definition of success?"
"I keep my standards achievable."
Nox said nothing. He paced near the firepit, his mane half-loosened from the ceremony braid. The tension in his shoulders rippled with every step.
Finally, I spoke. "You're angry."
He stopped, looking at me. "Not angry. Alert."
"That elder wanted me to fail."
"They all did," Luka said flatly. "You walked into their den as an unmarked lioness. You could have curled into a ball, begged for a mate to claim you. Instead you looked an elder in the eye."
His mouth curved into something between pride and admiration. "That rattled them."
Chyron sprawled across the floor, tail flicking lazily. "And now they want blood. They'll make your first trial public."
I exhaled. "Good. Then they'll see mine."
Nox's gaze softened for the first time since the chamber. He stepped close enough that I could smell the faint spice of the ceremonial oil still clinging to his skin. "You did well. But this isn't over. The first trial is not for show—it's survival."
Luka crouched beside the hearth, feeding a small flame with strips of dried bark. "They'll test your instincts. Hunting or dominance—sometimes both. If it's a hunt, you'll face something that bleeds. If it's dominance, you'll face someone who doesn't."
Chyron's grin turned sharp. "Either way, don't let them corner you. Even lions get torn apart if they hesitate."
I looked between them—their strength, their certainty—and realized that for the first time, their concern didn't make me feel fragile. It made me feel seen.
"I won't," I said quietly. "I didn't survive the wild to bow in a hall."
Nox's eyes glinted. "Then let's make sure the Circle remembers why."
The next morning came wrapped in a strange quiet.
Mist hung low across the plains outside the Circle's grounds, softening the world to silver. The trial grounds lay beyond the ridge—a hollow basin ringed with stone, where the earth had been scarred by generations of claws.
As we approached, the scent of blood and dust thickened. Dozens of spectators lined the cliffs.
A tall lioness with two stripes stepped forward to meet us. Her fur was pale gold, her expression unreadable. "Maise of Nox's pride," she called. "The Circle names your first trial."
"What is it?" I asked.
"Blood and chase," she said. "You will hunt a marked beast. Bring its heart to the elder's stone before the third drum."
Nox's jaw tightened. "That's no trial—it's a culling."
The lioness smiled faintly. "Then she will prove herself quickly."
The crowd stirred as the drums began, slow and heavy.
Luka leaned close, voice barely above a whisper. "Watch the wind. They release the beast upwind to test your tracking."
Chyron's fingers brushed my arm once—quick, almost imperceptible. "Come back with its heart, not yours."
I stepped into the basin. The earth was warm beneath my bare feet, darkened by old blood.
The gate ahead creaked open, and the creature that lumbered out made the ground tremble—a horned boar, hide thick as stone, eyes gleaming with feral madness. Its breath steamed in the cold air.
The drums pounded once more, echoing across the arena.
I dropped into a crouch, claws unsheathing.
Somewhere behind me, I heard Nox's low growl, the kind that vibrated through the bones.
Then the world narrowed to instinct.
The hunt had begun.