Ancestral Lineage

Chapter 160 Wolves In The Arena (2)

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Angrid snarled, his claws gleaming as they slashed through the air toward Emma. The force of his swing cut through the dust cloud, revealing his feral, golden eyes blazing with intent. But Emma wasn't there.

She sidestepped effortlessly, her movements a blur of grace and precision. Her crescent moon symbol glowed faintly as she swiped her clawed hand, leaving a shimmering frost in its wake. The icy energy spread, snaking toward Angrid's feet and attempting to freeze him in place. He jumped back, narrowly avoiding the encroaching frost, his expression darkening.

"You'll have to do better than that, Angrid," Emma teased, her voice lilting with amusement. She straightened, her stance casual, almost dismissive, as though she were merely taking a stroll. Her tail flicked lazily behind her, the very picture of nonchalance.

Angrid growled, his aura flaring as the ground beneath him scorched and cracked. "You mock me, Princess?" he barked, his voice deep and guttural, resonating with the weight of his dominance.

Emma grinned, her sharp teeth gleaming. "Mock you? Never. I'm just... enjoying myself." She raised a hand, inspecting her claws like Angrid was nothing more than a minor distraction. "Isn't this supposed to be a challenge? Come now, show me what you've got. Or would you rather I find someone else to entertain me?"

That did it.

Angrid launched himself at her with a deafening roar, his speed blinding. He swung his claws in a wide arc, his movements fierce and calculated, aiming to overwhelm her. Emma ducked, weaving through his attacks with ease. Her movements were fluid, almost playful as if she were dancing rather than fighting.

"You're strong, I'll give you that," Emma laughed, ducking under another swipe. "But strength alone won't win you this." She twirled gracefully, her claws raking against his side. Frost bloomed where she struck, spreading across his skin like icy vines. Angrid hissed, his muscles tensing as he shook off the cold.

He leaped back, his breath coming in heavy pants. His golden eyes narrowed as he assessed her, realizing for the first time that she wasn't even trying. Her every move was deliberate, calculated, and taunting. It wasn't that she was faster or stronger—though she was—it was the ease with which she controlled the fight. It was as though she were a predator playing with her prey.

"You're holding back," he growled, his voice tinged with frustration.

Emma tilted her head, her grin widening. "Am I?" She darted forward, closing the distance between them in an instant. Before Angrid could react, she was behind him, her claws lightly tracing his back. "Or maybe you're just not keeping up."

Angrid spun, his claws slashing wildly, but she was already gone, her laughter ringing like a bell. "This is getting boring," she said, yawning dramatically. "Come on, Angrid. You're supposed to impress me. Make me want to choose you."

His pride flared, and Angrid unleashed his full power with a guttural snarl. His aura ignited like a wildfire, scorching the ground around him. The intense heat distorts the air as flames lick at his skin. His tail bristled, and his claws glowed red-hot.

"Enough games!" he roared, his voice echoing across the arena. The audience howled in approval, their excitement reaching a fever pitch.

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Emma's expression shifted slightly, her grin softening into a sly smirk. "Finally," she murmured. "I was wondering when you'd take this seriously."

Angrid was the first to move. He lunged forward, his flaming mane trailing behind him like a comet. His massive jaws snapped shut inches from Emma's throat as she sidestepped with a speed that belied her size. She countered immediately, her claws swiping across his side and leaving a trail of frost that crackled and hissed against his flames.

Angrid growled in pain, spinning to swipe at her with his flaming tail, but Emma leaped over it with ease. She landed gracefully, her icy aura spreading with every step she took. The frost beneath her paws began to creep toward Angrid, freezing the scorched earth as it advanced.

"You can't win this," Emma said, her voice resonating with an authority that made even the onlookers feel the weight of her words. "You feel it, don't you? The difference between us?"

Angrid snarled, his pride refusing to acknowledge her superiority. He charged again, his claws slashing and his teeth snapping with relentless ferocity. But Emma met him head-on, her movements precise and unyielding. Every strike of his claws was countered by her own, every bite deflected or dodged with ease.

The battle reached its climax when Emma's aura flared to its fullest extent. The icy energy radiating from her froze the air itself, and the crescent moon symbol on her forehead blazed with a light that made Angrid falter. His fiery mane flickered as the weight of her presence bore down on him, a primal force that demanded submission.

Angrid staggered, his legs trembling as the frost crept up his limbs, sapping his strength. He growled and struggled against the invisible weight pressing him to the ground, but it was no use. Emma's aura was overwhelming, the undeniable presence of an alpha commanding those beneath her to yield.

With a final, defiant snarl, Angrid collapsed to his knees, his golden eyes dimming as he lowered his head. The flames of his mane flickered before extinguishing entirely, leaving only smoke and the faint glow of embers.

Emma stood over him, her icy gaze softening slightly as she regarded her defeated opponent. "You fought well," she said, her voice calm yet firm. "But you were never going to win."

The arena erupted in cheers and howls as the crowd acknowledged the victor. Emma raised her head high, her crescent moon symbol shining brightly as she let out a triumphant howl that echoed through the arena. She was the undisputed alpha, and everyone present knew it.

...

"Sigh! That was as boring and tiring as ever. When, just when?!" Emma muttered in frustration as she recalled her battle a few weeks ago as she sank deeper into the icy cold water of her tub. The faint mist rising from the surface couldn't obscure her form—a perfect blend of trained muscle and natural grace. Her silvery-white hair floated around her like liquid moonlight, while the crescent moon symbol on her forehead faintly glowed, pulsing in rhythm with her steady breaths.

She closed her eyes, letting the water cool her rising frustration. A soothing light emanated from the crescent moon, enveloping her in its gentle embrace. It eased the tension in her body, calming her restless nerves. Yet, for the first time, something felt... different.

"Wha..." Emma's eyes snapped open, her hand instinctively reaching for the edge of the tub as her heart skipped a beat.

"Keep calm, Emma. I'm sure you can feel it, right?" A voice, soft and cool like the breeze, yet warm with familiarity, whispered in her ears. It was both comforting and unsettling.

"What do you mean?" she asked, her voice carrying an edge of confusion. Her fingers tightened around the tub's edge, her body tense despite the soothing aura.

"Your mate. Your alpha. You can feel him, can't you?" The voice carried a gentle certainty as if stating an undeniable truth.

Emma's breath hitched. Her gaze turned distant, her sharp blue eyes narrowing as she focused inward. "Yes," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "He's so close... yet so far away."

"Patience, Emma. Patience." The voice softened its tone like a caress. "I'm sure he will come looking for you."

Emma's lips curled into a faint smile, the crescent moon on her forehead glowing just a little brighter. "I can wait," she said, her voice resolute. Her hand relaxed, the tension in her body melting away as determination replaced frustration. "And when he does... I'll finally get the fight I deserve."

A soft laugh echoed in her mind, full of amusement and affection. "Haha! I'm sure you will." The voice faded, leaving her alone in the silence of the room, the icy water swirling softly around her.

Emma leaned back, her eyes drifting shut once more. A sense of anticipation filled her. She would wait, not out of submission, but out of the certainty that the battle she craved—and the partner she sought—was drawing closer with every passing moment.