Defy The Alpha(s)

Chapter 333: Alaric And Caspian’s Match

"Now entering the arena is the unbeatable brains of the North Pack, Alpha Caspian Storm!" Commander Malakai introduced.

It was time for the showdown between Alaric Storm and his father. The audience clapped politely at first, expecting nothing out of the ordinary. But the moment Caspian appeared, dressed in sleek black from head to toe, the energy changed. In each hand, he carried Escrima sticks, their glossy surfaces catching the light.

A ripple of surprise rolled through the stands. Was that a weapon?

It wasn’t that weapons were outright banned, but Malakai had clearly stated no brutality. Apparently, Alpha Caspian had decided to blur that line, or maybe he had something else in mind. No one knew for sure.

The arena buzzed with anticipation as Caspian expertly twirled his Escrima sticks, then set his stance solidly at the center of the floor, completely in control.

"For a nerd, he really went full ninja," Daisy remarked beside Violet, impressed.

Malakai’s voice boomed again. "And facing him is the charming prince of Lunaris Academy, Alaric Storm!"

The cheers hit a whole new volume and Violet’s gaze was drawn instantly to the entrance as Alaric emerged, dressed to match his father in black combat pants and a black singlet that hugged his torso, white bandages wrapped neatly from his wrists down to his fingers. His Escrima sticks rested lightly in his hands, his expression cool but lit with challenge.

Violet’s heart gave a hard thump. She couldn’t quite wrap her head around it, but there was no denying this ninja vibe was hot. The way his black clothes highlighted his pale skin, the measured grace of his movements, that icy, focused stare, Alaric was giving pure sexy warrior energy. Her northern prince had never struck her as dramatic — theatrics were usually preserved for Roman — but tonight, he was delivering full cinematic flair.

The arena was holding its breath as Malakai gave the nod. "Begin!"

distance, their Escrima sticks clashing with a clean, resonant crack. The sound snapped through the arena, silencing the last

separated just as quickly, both twirling their sticks with brisk, flawless control. It was mesmerizing to watch their spins, flips, and blocks flowing in perfect sync. The sticks moved so

arena shook with roaring

but her stomach was tight with nerves. No matter how good Alaric was,

to everyone as the workaholic Alpha, always buried in paperwork and meetings, he wasn’t exactly expected to shine in combat. Yet here he was, proving exactly why he held

sticks hammering together in a rapid exchange of blows. Both men moved like shadows, ducking, twisting, and leaping. The Storms, like the Dravens, were masters of agility, but

Blinding, dizzying speed.

the human spectators struggled to keep up, their eyes darting side to side, trying not to miss a

across the back with a solid thwack.

voices echoing across

He grinned and let his eyes lift toward Violet. Their gazes locked for a heartbeat,

warning, giving him no time to bask in the moment. Alaric

the match

warriors locked in a real fight. The Escrima sticks collided again and again in rapid succession, their bodies

was good

across Alaric’s body. It was subtle but undeniable, sliding over his arms and shoulders like a lover’s caress. His speed kicked up a notch, and for a fleeting

But then, Alaric hesitated.