Filed To Story: Burn in the Alpha Princess's Wrath (Leslie and Kirby) Book PDF Free
“Oh?” Leiss sneered. His cronics immediately flared their pheromones in response. Shadows of snarling wolfs shimmered behind them. The tension crackled like dry branches in flame.
“Leiss,” I said calmly, halting Astrid with a glance. “Did you come over just to show off your bark?”
“Not quite.” His smile twisted. From his belt, he unsheathed a gleaming knife-its blade honed from moonstone-and slammed it into the table. “I came to play. Ever heard of the Claw Oath? Let’s see who’s got the real guts.”
The Claw Oath. An old, brutal test of nerve and skill once used to resolve disputes between Packs. You placed your hand flat on the table and stabbed the knife rapidly between your fingers. The faster, the braver. Miss, and you could cripple your hand-or lose fingers entirely.
Eric frowned, voice cutting through the thickening tension. “Leiss, this is Moon Song, not your back-alley arena. Don’t bring your garbage here.”
“Just a game,” Leiss said lightly, though his gaze was fixed squarely on me. “So, Governor Leslie. What’s the matter? Too scared to join? Or are those delicate hands of yours only good for harps and microphones?”
I laughed quietly. “Fine. I’ll play. But what’s the wager?”
Leiss’s eyes gleamed. “Simple. If I win, you confess-publicly-that you broke the mate bond with Kirby. That you’re an unfaithful woman. Then you step down from your post as Westview’s Governor. But if you win-do what you like to me.”
Astrid slammed her hand on the table. “I’m taking this for her. If you lose, Leiss, you strip. You destroy the hand you used. Then you crawl-naked-like the broken Omega mutt you are, all back to Crimson Moon Pack.” the way
“Done!” Leiss barked, eager and certain of himself.
I smiled at him. He thought I was just some decorative Alpha with a good voice and a famous name.
He had no idea that back in Rogue Pack’s royal training, the Claw Oath was something we practiced at six years old. Before breakfast.
Across the room, Kirby stood silent. Watching. His eyes locked on me-deep, unreadable.
He was searching for my limits.
Good.
Let them all see. Let them all learn.
Leslie’s POV – Moon Bar, Second Floor
News of the challenge spread like wildfire through the Moon Bar’s VIP floor.
In minutes, a crowd had gathered, hungry for blood and drama. The air thickened with combat pheromones and the electric buzz of expectation.
The lead vocalist of Night Band-my vampire friend-leaned in close and whispered, “Want help? I can make him hallucinate. Might even chop off his own hand.”
I chuckled and shook my head. “No need. He’s not worth cheating for.”
My confidence seemed to calm those around me. Astrid, ever the battle wolf, plopped herself down beside me, ready to lend her presence. Behind her, the looming outline of her storm- wolf pulsed in the air, its eyes locked on Leiss and his pack like a predator studying prey.
“Ready, former Luna?” Leiss sneered, putting weight on the title I had long since discarded. It was a weak jab-desperate and petty.
I didn’t reply. Instead, I calmly placed my left hand, palm down, on the solid oak table.
My fingers were long, my skin pale and smooth-hands more suited to playing piano or holding teacups than participating in a savage Pack blood game.
I closed my eyes.
Lars’s voice echoed through my memory: “Leslie, remember. An Alpha’s strongest weapon is not her claws-but her will. A still heart controls a steady hand.”
When I opened my eyes again, I no longer looked at Leiss like a challenger.
I looked at him like a corpse.
Asphodel stirred, her voice cold and resolute. Let him pay in blood for his ignorance.
Kirby’s POV – Moon Bar, Second Floor
My chest tightened.
The Claw Oath.
He challenged her to that?
This wasn’t just a game. It was a blood ritual-something warriors played to spit in death’s face.
A split-second error, and you’d be crippled for life.
The Leslie I remembered-who used to turn away when fish were gutted in the kitchen-how could she accept this?
Was she out of her mind?
Inside me, Lance howled and twisted, agitated and helpless. He couldn’t bear to watch her put herself in danger like this.
I wanted to intervene. I wanted to stop this madness.
But I couldn’t.
Under Pack law, this was a formal challenge. An oath-bound contest of pride and dominance. If I interfered, I wouldn’t just humiliate Leslie-I’d drag Crimson Moon Pack into disgrace.
All I could do was watch.
Leiss picked up the knife. His blade danced through the spaces between his fingers in rapid succession, each stab a flash of silver slicing the air.
He was good. Trained.
But I could smell it on him-just beneath the bravado-fear. His rhythm, while fast, was just slightly off.
Still, he finished without a scratch. He stabbed the blade into the table and grinned, cocky and taunting.
Then it was her turn.
I saw her place her hand-so fragile-looking-on the tabletop.
I stopped breathing.
Astrid leaned toward Amala and muttered something. With my Alpha hearing, I caught it.
“She doesn’t realize she’s challenging a woman who could do the Claw Oath blindfolded when she was six years old.”
Six?
The words exploded in my mind like thunder.
I stared at Leslie, stunned.
She lifted the knife. And-was that a smirk? A bored one?
Then her hand moved.
Or rather, the blade became a blur-too fast for the eye to follow. It leapt and twisted between her fingers like lightning, a dance of precision and cold fury.
Her expression never changed.
Her eyes remained steady, detached. As if this wasn’t a test of nerve and control-but merely muscle memory. Like brushing her teeth. Or breathing.
The room fell into dead silence, save for the rhythmic thudding of the knife tapping against the wood.
Thump. Thump. Thump.