Chapter 40 The Oath of the de
Leslie’s POV – Moon Bar, Second Floor
News of the challenge spread like wildfire through the Moon Bar’s VIP floor.
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In minutes, a crowd had gathered, hungry for blood and drama. The air thickened withbat 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 ced my left hand, palm down, on the solid oak table.
My fingers were long, my skin pale and smooth–hands more suited to ying 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 ws–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 <i>at </i>him like a corpse.
Asphodel stirred, her voice cold and resolute. <i>Let </i><i>him </i><i>pay </i><i>in </i><i>blood </i><i>for </i><i>his </i><i>ignorance</i>.
Kirby’s <i>POV </i>– <i>Moon </i><i>Bar</i><i>, </i><i>Second </i><i>Floor </i>
My chest tightened.
The w Oath.
He challenged her to that?
This wasn’t just a game. It was a blood ritual–something warriors yed to spit in death’s face.
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Chapter 40 The Oath of the de
A split–second error, and you’d be crippled for life.
Finished
The Leslie I remembered–who used to turn away when fish were gutted in the kitchen–how could she ept 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 Packw, 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 de danced through the spaces between his fingers in rapid session, each stab a sh 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 de into the table and grinned, cocky and taunting.
Then it was her turn.
I saw her ce her hand–so fragile–looking–on the tabletop.
I stopped breathing.
Astrid leaned toward Am and muttered something. With my Alpha hearing, I caught it.
“She doesn’t realize she’s challenging a woman who could do the w Oath blindfolded when she was six years old.”
<i>Six</i>?
The words exploded in my mind like thunder.
I stared at Leslie, stunned.
13:14 <b>Mon</b><b>, </b><b>Sep </b>15
Chapter 40 The Oath of the de
She lifted the knife. And–was that a smirk? A bored one?
Then her hand moved.
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Or rather, the de 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.
<i>Thump</i>. <i>Thump</i>. <i>Thump</i>.
It sounded like a war drum.
Like the heartbeat of death itself.
And in that moment, the game stopped being a game.
This… this was an execution. A slow, deliberate one–sided execution.
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