Elara, seated near her sons, was already worried about Kira, her concern showing all over her face. She shifted in her seat, leaning in slightly as her gaze moved from the battlefield to her sons.
Leaning closer to Bryan, she lowered her voice to a whisper, not wanting others to overhear. “Will you intervene and call off the fight? It is not looking good for Kira,” she said, her tone filled with worry.
She looked back at the field, seeing how Kira was held like a rag doll by that hair and her hands tightened slightly in her lap, “It really is not looking good, Bryan.”
Without turning his head, Bryan answered in a low voice, that was very much calm. “It is not supposed to look good. It is a fair fight, Mother. No one leaves until one has submitted or been knocked out. And from the looks of things, neither has happened yet.”
“But Kira is down,” Elara pressed, her voice dropping even lower and sounding more urgent. “This would save her from much more embarrassment or pain,” she added, her brow furrowing with worry.
“We have to get her out,” Elara said, glancing at Bryan. Her eyes searched his face, hoping to find even the slightest hint of agreement with her.
Bryan’s lips tightened for a moment before he spoke again. “Kira is strong, Mother,” he said, his tone confident. “She may have faltered because this is her first fight or whatever else that’s going through her head, but she is strong, and I trust her. She just has to believe in herself and believe that she has what it takes.”
“Agreed, Mother,” Aiden joined in, his voice quieter but no less resolute. Like Bryan, his eyes never left the battlefield as he spoke. “Kira has not submitted. I trust her too, and we will not lose hope in her.”
Elara nodded slowly, letting out a soft sigh as she settled back into her seat. “I understand,” she murmured, her tone laced with both acceptance and worry. “I do believe in her and I know she is strong. I just didn’t want her to be in too much pain. But of course…” She paused for a second, taking in a deep breath, “she is our stubborn girl after all.”
Elara glanced at her sons briefly, then, like them, her eyes returned to the battlefield. Her posture was more composed now.
Back at the battlefield, Tahila, after waiting so long for an answer, started to grow visibly frustrated. She wanted Kira to submit to her in front of the whole pack, she wanted to prove something but as she was not getting it, it frustrated her.
Her lips pressed together into a thin line before it turned into a mocking smirk. “Alright then,” she said to herself as she crouched down, her face just inches away from Kira’s face.
Gripping Kira’s hair tighter, she forced Kira’s face up so their eyes met. “I wonder,” Tahila began, “how two great warriors, two respected members of this pack, gave birth to such a weakling. Trust me, I am certain they are glad to be dead so they don’t have to see this disgrace.”
After those cutting words, Tahila released her grip on Kira’s hair with a sneer and stood up. Kira’s head now released, dropped heavily to the dirt, the sound of the thud faint.
As Kira’s head hit the ground hard, it sent a sharp pain through her skull. For a moment, everything felt distant-the way Tahila mocked her, the things Tahila said, the murmurs from the crowd, the gasps, everything felt so distant-but then something deep inside her snapped.
She growled faintly, anger bubbling up from her chest. “Why are you letting her do this to you?” Kira scolded herself. “You are Kira Valen. You are stronger than this.”
Her father’s voice echoed in her memory : “Never let anyone make you feel weak. You are a Valen, and that name means strength.”
Kira’s eyes fluttered shut briefly as she steadied her breathing. She could already feel herself healing and could also feel the burning anger from inside her, that even the pain she felt earlier became fuel to that anger.
Slowly, she pushed her hands against the ground. Her arms trembled slightly, but she held on strong. Her knees followed, pressing into the dirt as she began to rise.
“I am Kira Valen,” she whispered to herself.
The faint gasps and whispers from the pack reached Tahila who was busy addressing the crowd as she mockingly said, “Looks like our dear Luna has refused to submit. My apologies, everyone. I thought that would have been the best option, but I will have to knock her out instead.”
As Tahila spoke to the crowd, she began noticing that the murmurs from the crowd were growing louder, and they had this surprised look on their faces, their eyes, and attention somewhere else.
Frowning, Tahila turned slightly to see what had caught their attention, only for her to spot Kira now on her knees, slowly but surely rising.
“What the f*ck?” Tahila muttered under her breath, her smug expression faltering. Immediately she grinned, although it was more forced this time. She didn’t want anyone thinking she was scared or in disbelief.
“You have got to be kidding me,” she said, laughing bitterly.
Tahila stormed toward Kira, grabbing her by the hair once more. “Stay down!” she snapped, yanking Kira’s head back and shoving her onto her back. “Stay the f*ck down!”
Kira’s body hit the ground hard, but this time, there was no groan, no sign of defeat, no expression. It frustrated Tahila more than it angered her.
Not wanting to waste time anymore, Tahila climbed onto Kira. She straddled Kira and started punching Kira’s face with brutal force. “Why… won’t… you… stay… down?!” she grunted, each word punctuated with a punch.
Blood smeared across Kira’s face as her lips split further, but her eyes… her eyes burned with something dangerous.
Tahila froze mid-punch, noticing the faint curve of Kira’s lips. “What the hell are you smiling at?” she hissed, raising her fist again.
But as her hand shot forward, Kira’s own hand darted up, catching Tahila’s wrist. The shock and gasps from the crowd was audibly, the tension snapping.
Kira’s voice, dangerously calm and low, cut through the silence. “You should have knocked me out when you had the chance.”