Chapter 334: Asher And Henry’s Match

A hush fell over the arena, tense and expectant, as if the crowd instinctively understood the stakes had just risen. The air felt heavier, every gaze pinned on Commander Malakai as he announced.

"Now entering the arena, the Supreme Alpha of the West, Henry Nightshade!"

A polite applause followed as Henry stepped out, shirtless, and clad only in dark trousers, every ripple of muscle on display. His body was a portrait of power, shaped by years of ruthless training.

Henry was undeniably a handsome man, and perhaps he would have been even more so if he ever cracked a smile. Not that it mattered to Violet. No matter how polished the outside was, his soul was pitch black, and corrupted beyond redemption.

She tore her gaze away in disgust, already nauseous, and turned toward the entrance as Malakai’s voice lifted again.

"And facing him is the unpredictable and undefeated puppet master, Asher Nightshade!"

A deafening roar went up from the students. Violet’s heart thudded as Asher stepped into the arena, shirtless like his father, his black loose pants riding low on his hips. He looked every bit the embodiment of dark, dangerous allure.

While the screams of female fans rang out across the arena, wild and frenzied, Violet barely registered them. Her gaze was glued to Asher, and dread curled in her stomach. This wasn’t her Asher. His face was hard and empty, his eyes like steel. Distant and ruthless. He had become the cold, deadly version of himself she had once feared.

Violet’s stomach twisted painfully. She didn’t like this match. She didn’t trust Henry. And worst of all, she didn’t trust Asher to stop himself. Both of them were psychos in their own ways.

Father and son stood face to face, the air between them crackling with tension. Neither of them moved a muscle. Neither said a word. They stood like twin statues, carved from ice and stone, both masters of control.

just before Commander Malakai could raise his hand to start, Henry

impressed by the matches today," Henry sneered, eyes scanning the crowd before settling back on Asher. "But what you have seen so far

across the stands, the tension doubling, and Violet’s

I see why that boy turned out the way he is," Nancy muttered beside her,

had never met Henry before, could sense the darkness in him, that

mouth and called out mockingly, "All that talk, Henry. Are you gonna fight or keep running your

his glare. If looks could kill, Irene would have been reduced to ash. But she just laughed, popping a pink bubble of gum with a loud snap, completely

with a growl, locking eyes with

a worried glance at Asher. Something was off, and everyone knew it. This wasn’t going to be a drill but a fight

simply brought his fists up, his jaw clenched, and his eyes burning with

when Henry struck first, slamming his fist into Asher’s face with brutal force. Blood spattered from Asher’s lips, but he barely flinched. Instead, he responded with a vicious uppercut that cracked against

it. He smirked, eyes wild

Asher’s eyes flashed dangerously.

It was savage, raw,

like this," Daisy whispered, her voice tight with fear. She glanced at Violet, who was gripping her seat so hard her knuckles had turned white, her eyes wide and

while the werewolves in the audience were used

use of his power, Asher and Henry were equally matched, their bodies slick with sweat and streaked with blood. They knew each other’s every move—Henry had trained Asher, and Asher had studied his father’s fighting style like his life depended

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