CHAPTER 144: THE COUNCIL

The arena was ancient, stone carved from the bones of mountains, lined with spiked banners and heavy wolf statues that watched like ghosts of a forgotten war.

Every Alpha was present. Their soldiers filled the surrounding ledges, shoulder to shoulder in grim silence. The atmosphere crackled with something sharp and cruel—anticipation, maybe. Or hunger.

Athena stood in the high balcony reserved for the goddess. Alone. Powerless. Her fists clenched tight at her sides.

Cassius entered the ring shirtless, wearing only dark combat trousers and worn leather wraps around his fists and feet. Scars laced his torso like runes. His eyes met hers.

Steady. Unflinching.

Live, she mouthed.

He nodded once.

Then Markus entered.

Clad in black and gold armor, Markus looked like a king of blades. Smirking. Confident. Dangerous.

He didn’t bring a training blade. He brought his real one.

Gasps rippled through the crowd.

"This is a test," one of the younger Alphas muttered. "Not an execution—"

But no one stopped him. No one challenged Markus.

Because deep down, they wanted to see what Cassius was made of.

The Council’s voice rang out: "Let the Trial begin."

Markus moved fast. Too fast.

Cassius barely dodged the downward slash of the blade, the tip grazing his side. Blood spilled instantly. The crowd roared.

Athena flinched.

Cassius recovered quickly, spinning low and landing a punch to Markus’s ribs. But Markus barely reacted—he was stronger than Cassius remembered. Or maybe he was just madder.

"You shouldn’t have come back," Markus snarled, slamming a brutal elbow into Cassius’s jaw.

Cassius stumbled, but stayed standing.

Athena’s nails dug into the stone railing.

It wasn’t a fight.

It was a storm.

Markus was relentless—using brute force and psychological venom. He circled Cassius like a predator, each attack heavier than the last.

"Is this the man you’re entrusting your life to?" Markus bellowed toward Athena. "He falls like a child!"

Cassius was bleeding from his brow, his knuckles raw, his knee barely holding up.

And yet—he didn’t fall.

Athena’s lips parted as he rose again. Pain in every breath. But eyes still burning.

Markus landed a crushing blow to Cassius’s ribs—something cracked. Cassius dropped to one knee.

The crowd quieted.

Even the Alphas leaned forward.

Markus raised his blade.

Athena surged forward in her seat—but a hand on her shoulder held her back.

Alpha Siona. "You can’t. If you interfere, you invalidate the Trial. And you lose the Council."

Athena trembled with rage.

Cassius looked up—blood trickling from his mouth, one eye already swelling shut.

And yet... he smiled.

"I thought you were the best," he rasped to Markus. "But all you are is angry I came back first."

Markus roared and brought the blade down.

Cassius rolled—barely avoiding the killing strike—and kicked Markus’s leg out from under him.

The crowd gasped as Markus fell.

Cassius leapt onto him, striking again and again. The arena thundered with every hit.

Markus grabbed his throat—squeezed—

Cassius headbutted him, then flipped him over, disarming him with sheer instinct.

Suddenly, Markus was on his back. Unarmed.

Cassius stood over him, blood dripping from his fists.

He could kill him.

Silence.

Then Athena’s voice—calm, clear, sharp as frost.

"Cassius."

He turned.

Her eyes didn’t plead. They didn’t need to.

They trusted.

Cassius stepped back from Markus.

He’d already won.

The arena erupted. Some in cheers. Some in disbelief.

Cassius’s chest heaved. He looked up at Athena once more.

This time, she wasn’t cold.

This time, her expression was soft.

Proud.

The Council rose.

Alpha Theron spoke. "Cassius has proven himself. He may serve in the goddess’s personal guard."

Athena descended the steps slowly as the crowd parted for her.

She reached him just as he started to sway.

And when he finally collapsed, it was into her arms.

The room was dim, bathed in the silver-blue light of the moon filtering through gauze curtains. A basin of warm water steamed quietly at her side. The scent of herbs lingered, calming, grounding—but Athena’s hands trembled.

Cassius lay shirtless on the low pallet, his chest rising and falling with effort. Bruises bloomed purple and black along his ribs. His eye was still swollen, his lip split.

Athena knelt beside him, dipping the cloth into the water and wringing it out with care.

"You always hated silence," he murmured, voice hoarse.

She glanced at him. "You’re in no shape to talk."

"Let me pretend I’m still useful," he teased, smirking.

Athena pressed the cloth gently to his jaw. He winced.

"Sorry," she whispered.

He watched her closely. "You never apologized for hurting me before."

Her hand paused.

"I never meant to hurt you," she said. "Back then... I just didn’t know how to stay."

His breath hitched. "You didn’t have to stay. I would’ve followed you anywhere."

She looked up, eyes glossy. "And I would’ve destroyed you if you had."

Athena uncorked the jar of salve she’d made herself—lavender, wolfroot, and moonleaf. She pressed it to his side, careful not to meet his eyes.

He hissed through his teeth, then chuckled. "Still using moonleaf like it’s magic."

"It is."

"No. You are."

Her breath caught.

Neither of them heard it at first.

Lucas stood in the doorway, arms crossed, silent as shadow.

He saw Athena’s hand hovering just a little too long on Cassius’s chest.

He saw the flicker in her eyes—the softness.

And he said nothing.

Until she noticed.

"Lucas."

Her voice was a startled whisper.

Cassius opened his eyes fully, struggling to rise. "Should I leave?"

"You’re not going anywhere," she said gently, pressing him back down. "You’re still bleeding internally."

Lucas stepped forward at last.

He looked tired. Tense.

"I heard about the trial," he said to Cassius. "You survived. Congratulations."

Cassius gave a dry smile. "No thanks to your Alpha friend."

Lucas didn’t smile back.

Athena stood slowly, wiping her hands.

"Lucas..." she began.

But he interrupted softly. "I just wanted to see that you were okay."

A pause.

"I am."

He nodded. "Good."

Cassius looked between them, then turned away slightly—giving them a moment.

Lucas’s jaw tensed. "He still loves you."

Athena closed her eyes. "I know."

"And?"

She looked at him, raw and honest. "And I’m trying not to be cruel."

Lucas stepped closer. "Does that mean you still love him?"

Silence.

"I don’t know what I feel right now," she admitted. "Too much. Too fast."

Cassius’s voice, quiet: "You don’t have to choose."

Athena looked between the two men—one her past, one her present. Both bound to her in different ways.