Alpha Damien’s Trouble Maker Novel

Chapter 12 Chapter 12 Selene Evelyn glanced at me, her lips parting as if she wanted to speak, but no words came. She swallowed them back down, keeping quiet, and simply stood beside me. I could see the questions piled up inside her, she didn't voice thern. She trusted me instead. Good girl. There would be times when my ideas made no sense, times when even I would sound insane. But she needed to trust me anyway. Both she and Silas would have to. Because sometimes the future was chaos, and I had already lived it nine different times. I knew the patterns, even when they refused to make sense.

I turned my attention back to the arena. Arthur and Silas were still fighting, well, Arthur was fighting. Silas only dodged, his body sluggish but his movements just sharp enough to keep himself alive. Arthur pressed forward ruthlessly, his blade cutting through the air as he tried to break him down. I studied them, my expression darkening. Arthur was pure offense, his movements harsh, every strike designed to draw blood, and humiliate Silas. Silas, however, kept to defense, conserving what little strength he had left. But it wasn't just their rhythm that caught me. It was Arthur's technique.

Every pack had their own style of fighting, honed through generations of war. Warriors usually added a personal twist to the moves they were raised with. Yet Arthur's movements weren't his own. His style wasn't from Mooncrest pack at all. I narrowed my eyes. Nightshade. A pack with a terrible reputation, feared for their brutality and dishonesty. Arthur was using their techniques in the temple. Nobody here noticed, why would they? The style was dangerously close to Mooncrest's own, so to untrained eyes it blended seamlessly. And the temple had no seasoned warriors to recognize the difference.

Those warriors were either dead on the battlefield or serving in the palace. My arms folded, lips curling upward in a smile. This bastard. He thinks he's clever. Arthur's background wasn't simple, that much was clear now. In all my past lives, I had never dug deep enough to question him. But this time, the pieces didn't add up. It took years to master another pack's fighting style. I had lived lifetimes to learn what I knew. For Arthur to wield Nightshade techniques so fluently, he must have had direct contact with them. And the temple would never knowingly hire such a man.

So the question wasn't how he learned it. It was who was hiding him. Arthur laughed, his voice loud and cruel, echoing across the stone walls of the arena. "Hahaha! Just give up already, Silas," he sneered, dragging his tongue across the blood staining his lips. "You're too weak. You can't even fight back, or summon your wolf. You're nothing but a useless weakling, undeserving of the black wolf." I tilted my head, watching them from above, my expression unreadable. Ah... so that's it. Arthur's hatred wasn't born from strength alone. It was envy.

Silas didn't just have skill, he bore the black wolf. The world of wolves was painted in shades of power, each color defining how strong one could be, 12:39 Tue, Dec 23 M Chapter 12 305) There were the browns, the weakest and most common of them all. But even a light-brown wolf wasn't destined to stay weak forever. With enough training, their strength could grow, and their wolf's shade could darken with it. After them came the darker browns, they were stronger, but still a step below the black. And then there was Silas's wolf. Black. The black wolves were feared, and respected.

They carried immense strength, unmatched instincts, and limitless potential. Every Alpha had a black wolf, and most were chosen to serve the palace, guarding the royal bloodlines. Yet Silas chose me. Even when Sienna wanted him, and she begged my father to assign him to her, Silas refused. He stayed by my side. That was why Arthur hated him. Because Arthur, with all his arrogance and skill, was always second best. And Silas himself was holding himself back. After the black was the white wolf, the purest, strongest, and rarest of them all. The wolf of the priestesses. My wolf.

Everyone expected Sienna to inherit it, but it was me, and they hated me for it. They said I didn't deserve Mara. That I was a curse to the goddess. I cast Mara aside, too ashamed to even transform, and afraid of the hatred that followed me everywhere. But Mara was mine. There was one more. A wolf stronger and far rarer. The red wolf. A beast of destruction. Only one man in history had ever borne it. Alpha Damien. The Demon of the West. Silas didn't react to the words thrown at him. He only tried to hold what little strength he had left. He was like me, and words had become meaningless.

That made Arthur angrier. Someone in the crowd chuckled darkly, loud enough for all to hear. "He's looking down on you, Arthur boy. You just going to stand there like a fool while he dodges your attacks? You can't even land a bad cut. I mean, sure, Silas is weakened, but you're still a brown wolf after all." Arthur's jaw twitched, his eyes narrowing. These men knew what they were doing. They were stirring him up, hungry for blood, and Arthur was the perfect fool to be manipulated. Arthur forced a smirk and straightened, his voice mocking. "Oh, don't worry, I'm not weak.

I serve a powerful priestess." Silas's eyes snapped toward him at that, that was his first real reaction. Arthur/noticed immediately and his grin widened, satisfied. "What a waste of potential, Silas," he sneered, circling him like a predator. "You wouldn't be suffering like this if you served Lady Sienna. If it had been me who left that night to find a cure for her illness, nobody would punish me for leaving on the holy night. The holy night means nothing if the Moonborn will die." He leaned closer, his words echoing in the arena. "But everyone knows your priestess is fake.

Her death wouldn't make a difference. That's why you're being punished. If I had a worthless priestess like yours, I'd kill myself." Silas's chest rose and fell faster now, his fingers twitching, barely holding himself back. Beside me, Evelyn's eyes burned as she glared at Arthur. "How dare he..." she whispered furiously. I kept my eyes on Silas, studying him. Still he didn't fight back. Still he swallowed the insults. Maybe he had vowed something to himself, or he didn't want to cause trouble. I decided to give him the push he needed. I took a step forward and raised my voice.

"Are you still trying to control yourself while your lady is being insulted?" The arena fell silent immediately, my voice slicing through their shouts. A man near me jerked back, his head snapping in my direction. All eyes turned toward me. Even Arthur and Silas looked up,surprised. 12:40 Tue, Dec 23 MG Chapter 12 I locked my gaze on Silas, my expression cold. "Don't be weak. Defend my honour. Pick up your sword and fight." 田 AD Comment Send gift No Ads 309 12:40 Tue, Dec 23 MG.

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