Chapter 2 Two

Mia rushed home, shaken after hearing about the Alpha Trials.

She told Jessie, who already knew and had signed her up already.

The moment the boy uttered "Alpha Trials," Mia felt the world tilt beneath her.

Her heart slammed against her ribs as she spun and sprinted from the training ground, the words pounding louder than any clashing swords:

Alpha Jon had no male heir. The Trials were returning.

Boots skidded over frozen dirt and snow as she tore through the village path, dodging pine roots and frost-slick rocks. When the sharp outline of Jessie's cabin appeared on the horizon, Mia didn't slow. She barreled through the door.

She stood at the table, sharpening a curved blade, the rhythmic scrap of metal against stone filling the room. Her untouched bowl of stew sat cold beside her.

"They're talking about the Alpha Trials," Mia said, breathless.

Jessie looked up calmly. "I know."

Mia's eyes widened. "You knew? Since when?"

Jessie set down the blade, wiping the metal clean. "Since last night. Word spreads quickly when you've trained yourself to listen."

"And you weren't going to tell me?"

Jessie gave a short shrug. "I was waiting to see if you were alert enough to figure it out. You did."

"So what now?" Mia stepped closer, anger and disbelief rising. "You think I'm going to watch them choose someone else to take the throne that should've been "

"I already signed you up."

The words hit like a slap.

Mia blinked. "What?"

"You're not going as Mia Snow," Jessie said firmly. "You're going as Clinton."

That name, the false identity Jessie had crafted long ago for a future they were never sure would come, sank into the silence between them like a blade.

"I can't do this," Mia whispered. "Pretending to be someone I'm not..."

"You're not pretending. You're becoming," Jessie interrupted. "If you want revenge, justice, your birthright,then this is how you take it."

Mia turned away, throat tight. "I don't want to be a boy."

"Then you can stay here and keep bleeding for nothing," Jessie snapped. "Or you can remember how your mother died chained and beheaded in the snow while your father watched without a word."

The memory struck with savage clarity, blood, frost, the roar of silence.

Mia looked back at her mentor, eyes burning. "Do you have to cut the wound deeper every time just to remind me?"

Jessie didn't even look up at her.

The next three days stretched beyond agony.

Jessie and Denis pushed her past her limits. Every hour was filled with drills, posture corrections, voice training, movement adjustments. Mia learned to walk with weight in her shoulders and silence in her spine. They bound her chest in layers of cloth until her ribs ached. She spoke in lower registers until her voice scratched and broke.

Jessie turned her into a shadow.

Denis taught her how to sharpen the illusion of how Clinton stood straighter, blinked less, let his jaw set harder than Mia ever had. "You're not hiding," he told her quietly. "You're surviving. I hope you can understand Jessie"

On the fourth evening, Jessie returned with a knife and a cloak.

Mia stared at herself in the mirror, her long dark hair spilling across her shoulders, strands that once reminded her of her mother.

"You ready?" Jessie asked.

Mia swallowed.

And nodded.

Each cut that fell to the floor was a piece of her former self. By the time Jessie was done, Mia barely recognized the boy staring back at her. The jaw was hers, the eyes were hers but everything else belonged to Clinton. "You'll need to be able to juggle the life between Clinton and Mia. You will live in the Snow pack and will need a clock every time you think you can't be Clinton. Intelligence is the biggest skill you'll need."

The Selection day arrived on a biting morning, sky veiled in grey.

The Green Pack village square had transformed. Banners snapped in the wind. Warriors stood shoulder to shoulder, each hopeful to be chosen for the legendary Alpha Trials. Only males of strength and noble standing were permitted. Most bore scars. Some bore arrogance.

Mia-now Clinton-stood stiff in her new clothes. Her tunic hung flatter, her chest bound beneath it. Her boots felt too big, her stance slightly forced. The only problem was her small structure that stood out but apart from that most people couldn't notice anything else.

Jessie walked beside her like a storm contained in leather and bone. Few dared question her presence.

At the front steps, cloaked judges stood behind a carved stone table. Their eyes were sharp and slow, watching everything.

"Name and lineage," one judge called as each candidate stepped forward.

"Kelvin Hart," came a familiar voice.

Mia tensed. He was the Beta's son, the first boy she was always watched and admired from behind the shadows.

Kelvin approached the panel with easy swagger, his tunic crisp, his face smug. "Son of Beta Stary. Blood of Vervain."

The judges exchanged glances and nodded.

"You are approved."

Kelvin stepped aside.

Then the announcer called: "Clinton. Step forward."

Mia moved slowly, each muscle trained to carry the weight of her new identity.

"Clinton. Only Son of Jessie Roy."

The judges stiffened.

"No known pack. No noble lineage. What right do you claim?"

Before Mia could answer, a voice rang out.

"I speak for him."

Everyone turned.

Denis stepped forward, quiet but firm. "Clinton is legally my son. And I carry authority from the Crimson High Council."

Whispers spread instantly. The Council hadn't appeared in decades.

The elder judge narrowed his eyes. "Prove your bloodline."

Denis removed his glove, revealing a silver ring etched with the Crimson sigil. Another judge examined it and gave a slow nod.

"It is enough."

The lead judge turned back to Mia.

"What are your intentions for the Alpha Trials?"

Mia's voice came steady. "To restore balance. And destroy every rot beneath the throne."

A pause. The judges looked at each other.

"You are approved."

Next was Jayson, son of a high official from the Green Pack, Oligario, some of a General commander in the Snow pack and many others.

Mia stood among many other chosen warriors in the circular training field. This was the first step. The Trials hadn't even begun but she had survived what so many hadn't: being noticed.

She didn't dare look back. She could feel Jessie's gaze anyway.

When the judges dismissed the gathering, the crowd began to thin. But one figure didn't move.

Kelvin.

He approached her slowly, sneering.

"What the hell are you supposed to be?" he muttered, eyes raking her up and down. "You look like you haven't eaten in weeks."

Mia didn't flinch. "Maybe you're just used to bigger boys."

Kelvin snarled. "Watch your mouth."

"Or what?" she asked quietly.

He stared a moment longer before turning away.

Her knees almost betrayed her but she stood strong. Kelvin hadn't changed . He always ignored her and made her feel inferior.

Later, Mia stood near a wooden post, her breath steadying. Her bindings bit into her ribs, and her legs trembled slightly from effort.

From across the arena, Jayson stood with his arms crossed, his eyes lingering on her a second too long. She saw confusion there, not recognition, just something stirring beneath the surface.

Don't recognize me, she thought. Not yet.

That night, Mia collapsed into her cot inside the Trial Quarters barracks. The mattress was thin, and the walls echoed with the snoring of competitors.

She lay there, staring at the ceiling, binding still tight against her chest, limbs aching from tension and transformation.

The next day, they were to be briefed on everything about the competition and were to be sent home to prepare with their families and return the next day.

The briefing was done by the Beta and he started:

"You are no longer cubs. No longer sons of betas, deltas, or hunters. From today, you are candidates for Alpha-heir to the throne of Snow Pack, protector of the northern bloodlines."

A pause.

Then his voice rang out with conviction:

You will be expected to follow a certain number of rules we've brought for you.

The 10 Rules of the Alpha Trials

1. Residence & Restrictions

All contestants will reside within the Pack's trial compound for the full duration of the Trials. Leaving without official clearance will result in instant disqualification. However, with permission, you may visit your families during designated rest days or rest hours.

2. Combat Structure

Trials will be fought in one-on-one duels, determined by draw. Fights may be with blade, claw, or hand but only one walks away. Winners advance. Losers are removed by injury, defeat, or death.

3. No External Weapons

Only trial-sanctioned weapons may be used. Anyone caught sneaking in outside tools, poisons, or enchanted items will be publicly disqualified.

4. No Outside Help

No allies, mentors, or family may interfere, offer aid, or influence outcomes. This is your battle alone. External interference will result in your disqualification and theirs.

5. Mate Clause

If you are paired against your fated mate, you may fight or kill them. The law does not bend for love. If you cannot fight them, you forfeit.

6. No Kill Without Cause

Unjustified murder of another contestant outside of an official match is grounds for trial by death.

7. You May Withdraw

You are allowed to back out at any time. Walking away is not cowardice, it is the choice to live. But once you leave, you may never return but may be considered a traitor under certain circumstances.

8. Behavior Code

Foul conduct: sexual harassment, sabotage, intimidation will not be tolerated. You will be removed without trial.

9. Mental & Tactical Trials

Strength is not enough. You will be tested on strategy, leadership, diplomacy, and survival instincts. Fail three non-combat trials and you are cut. This includes sending you out of the pack for duty and many others .

10. Oath of Blood

Upon victory, the chosen Alpha must swear the Blood Oath before the Council and Moonstone Altar. Betrayal of that oath will be punished by execution and memory erasure from Pack records.

Stary let the scroll fall to his side.

"These rules are not suggestions. They are sacred laws. The Trials begin tomorrow at dawn. Eat well. Sleep deep. Bleed with purpose. Go pack up and greet your families"

Then he turned and left them in silence.

That night, back at her pack, Mia sat on the floor with a wet cloth pressed to her chest. The bindings had left bruises already. Her limbs ached. Her head throbbed from the pressure of holding everything in voice, movement, posture, rage.

Jessie poured her a drink and sat across the table.

"You did well," she said.

"It's just the first round."

Jessie's voice hardened. "The first round is where most die without lifting a sword. You passed. You are Clinton now."

Mia looked down at her bruised hands.

"I still don't like the idea"

Jessie leaned back. "Good. That means you haven't lost yourself."

Denis entered from outside, removing his cloak.

Mia looked at him warily.

"Why did you step in?" Jessie asked.

Denis raised a brow. "Because you were right. Mia is the best chance we have. And because the system that killed her mother needs to burn."

There was no warmth in his tone. No fatherly affection. Just truth.

Mia nodded once.

Jessie and Denise went to bed but Mia couldn't.

The moon was high that night, casting shadows across the sleeping barracks. Mia couldn't rest. Her limbs ached with tension. Her heart beat too fast in her chest.

She stepped outside for air, letting the frost bite her cheeks and clear her mind.

Somewhere in the distance, a wolf howled.

She stood there, breathing in the cold, gripping the railing, thinking about the Trials ahead.

But also, about her mother.

About the stone platform.

About the silence that followed the blade.

She would not lose again.

Not to fear.

Not to blood.

Not to fate.

And certainly not to boys like Kelvin.

She went to bed patiently waiting for the next day to begin her journey.