When I turn my gaze to his opponent, I see why he knows that hope is lost.

“It took five men to bring the big one in,” Lord Sebastian tells my father. “He killed three of them. He doesn’t talk much, but we think he’s one of the alphas—possibly from the Highfell Clan. Quite a specimen, isn’t he?”

The larger male is the epitome of the wild and rugged mountains where he must have come from. He is tall, with a strong jawline, and his muscular body looks like it is carved from rock. His unkempt hair is dirty-blond, almost the color of straw, and it’s shorn closely to his head at the sides in a style I have never seen in the south. He stands, still and expressionless, and the crowd howls and screeches like the wind around him.

“Indeed.” My father runs a hand over his neat white beard. “And what was he doing this far south?”

“Who knows with these creatures.”

The alpha looks at me. And those eyes. . . they’re the dark green of the forest, and they brim with hatred. No one has looked at me like that before. My mouth dries as we stare at one another.

And yet, my soul stirs.

“It won’t be much of a fight,” my father says, as if he is discussing the weather, not the fates of two living beings.

“No.” Sebastian smiles cruelly. “We thought we’d break him in tonight. We have something a little more exciting planned for him at the celebrations tomorrow night.”

The alpha stares at me, his jawline hard. He is still as stone, but there is violence in his eyes. I will myself to be that statue again, to be that vessel for my soul, and I look right back at him even though my heartbeat skitters.

“Well,” says Sebastian, clicking his fingers at the Wolves in manner that could be deemed brave or foolish if it weren’t for the armed guards standing around the ring. “Begin.”

A muscle feathers in the alpha’s jaw.

Nausea rises in me as the young man’s face drains of color. He’s going to die, and everyone—he, the alpha, the crowd—knows it. He doesn’t break eye contact with the man who towers before him.

He is brave, then.

Courage, I will him, remembering that my mother said the same to me once. Have courage, little one.

The alpha’s big fist clenches at his side. It could be my imagination, but I think the younger opponent dips his head—as if in submission.

A growl vibrates in the alpha’s throat, and in it I feel the ripple of hatred and rage that he is about to unleash. It claims me too. Hatred so thick and bitter I can taste it. Hatred at this towering giant for what he is about to do.

He roars—loud and wild—a war cry that ricochets off the stone walls of the hall.

The fight is over in minutes. It is bloody, and violent, and I hear the crack of bone at some point, along with howls of pain from the younger man. The alpha holds him down on the ground, a hand curled around his neck.

He raises a fist to deal the death blow—pausing with it in mid-air as if savoring the kill.

The young one looks into my eyes rather than at the monster on top of him.

And I cannot bear it.

This is not right.

“Stop!” I jump to my feet.

The alpha stills. The crowd quiets. Sebastian looks at me, eyes narrowed, while a muscle tightens in my father’s jaw.

My heart is pounding in my chest.

Yet I do not sit back down.

“This is not sport.” I force my voice to sound steady, even though my knees are shaking. “This is murder.”

The air in the hall thickens. The crowd turn their anger, their bloodlust, from the Wolves to me. The alpha’s shoulders rise and fall, hard.

My breathing quickens. I shouldn’t have said anything. I am a woman. A statue. It is not my place.

Yet I do not sit down.

“Putting down an animal is hardly murder,” says Sebastian, a bite to his tone. “Or does my betrothed have a thing for beasts? Do you know that they take their women like dogs? I have heard that some women—”

“That’s enough.” My father’s command rumbles across the hall.

Sebastian dips his head to the king. “I did not mean to offend, Your Highness.”

“Aurora is tired. She will excuse herself and go to bed,” says my father.

I have disappointed him, and shame heats my cheeks.

But I don’t move.

Neither does the alpha. His arm is still raised, his gaze trained on his victim as he awaits the conclusion of our conversation. The boy’s wide eyes hold mine. Tears and blood stain his cheeks.

“Let him live.” My mouth is as dry as bone.

Sebastian is barely containing his rage. He clearly does not like to be challenged in front of his people. “What use is he to me alive, my love?”

“He is young. Fit. Put him to work in the stables.” I want to disappear, but I force myself to look at him, to smile. “A wedding gift to me, my lord.”

Sebastian appears to consider. He stands and takes my hands; his fingers are cold and curl around mine like a vice. I push down the disgust that is rising inside me at his touch. He smiles back.

“Very well, my love. A wedding gift.” He leans close, bringing his lips to my ear. “You know, if you have a fondness for these creatures, and wish to be taken like a common mutt, that can be arranged tomorrow night after the ceremony. Who knows, perhaps I will throw you into the kennels afterward. Perhaps I will even let this alpha have a go with you, seeing as you have denied him his kill.”

Every muscle in my body hardens as the monster I knew was lurking inside him makes his presence known to me.

He releases me and turns to his people.

“The fight is over,” he says, and the monster slips back beneath his skin. “A gift to my betrothed, who is as gentle-hearted as she is beautiful.”

The muscles in the alpha’s shoulders are knotted and hard. Hot, raw anger radiates from him. It’s as if the wolf inside him is furious that he doesn’t get to kill someone.

He drops his arm to his side.

I’m breathing fast. My dress is too tight and the air too hot.

The alpha stands and turns away from the crowd. He lets a couple of guards cuff him.

“Put them back in their kennels,” says Sebastian. “The winner can go to the nicer ones. It’s only fair, and he will need his rest for what we have planned for tomorrow. Put the loser back with the rest. If he survives the night, we will find a job for him as my betrothed wishes. These creatures prey on the weak, though, so I doubt there will be much left of him by morning.”

A couple of armed guards lead the alpha away through the oak doors at the end of the hall, while a steward hurries forward to drag his opponent off the floor.

“My betrothed—like many women from the south—hasn’t the stomach for this sport, and why should she when she is such a beautiful flower? She will be taking her leave now, before the next fight. She needs to prepare for tomorrow night.”

His eyes harden, and my heart thuds frantically against the cage I keep it in. I dip my head regardless, and, steadying my trembling hands, I curtesy.

Without a backward glance, I hurry across the ring. I try to ignore how my skirts trail in the blood as I head through the doors.

Just ahead, the two fighters from the ring are being escorted away.

The alpha is almost at the end of the corridor. Behind him, the young wolf is drooping over the shoulder of the steward, his breathing ragged. He is not in good shape. If someone does not tend to his wounds he won’t be working in the stables any time soon. And if what Sebastian says is true—about Wolves preying on the weak. . .

“Wait!” I internally curse the shake in my voice. I should not be afraid. This is to be my home.

The alpha stills, and the torchlight from the corridor flickers across his hard profile. Though he’s twenty feet or so away from me, his body heat washes over me. His scent does, too—sweat and blood and the mountains. My heart races, but I turn my attention to the injured boy.