The Possessive Alpha
Chapter 13

Elle POV

“Okay, the first pairing in the ring is…” Damon’s voice calls out amongst us; he pauses for a small moment before a devilish smile flashes on his lips like he discovered gold. Looking directly at me, he smiles brightly before opening his mouth to yell, “Melanie and Elle.”

When I hear my name, I try to show fear, careful not to tip my hand. I can listen to Melanie and her cronies’ snide remarks close to the ring. Tentatively, I make my way into the center, trying to avoid the concerned looks of others. Many are surprised I even made it into this group. The three divisions were based on skill because I have never attended a single training session with the rest of the pack, and I want them to keep thinking that.

However, as I am stepping over the boundaries of the ring, I find Damon’s eyes flashing him a devilish smile of my own with a little wink. The look of realization that he might have made a grave miscalculation in whatever scheme was being cooked up in this pairing of Melanie and me together. Satisfied that I rattled his cage, I turn my full attention to Melanie, who has her disgusting sneer plastered to her unbearable face.

Damon steps up to us to explain the rules of the fight, “You will fight until someone submits, someone passes out. There is no draw. There will be a winner—human forms only. The winner will stay in the ring until they are defeated. Transitioning into your wolf form means you’re disqualified from the rest of the tournament. Understood?”

“Yes,” Melanie and I say together, my voice meek and barely above a whisper, so I still give off the vibe that I am terrified of Melanie kicking my a*s. She is rumored to be the “best” fighter in our pack, but according to her father, she has no genuine interest or skill, learning just enough to get by.

“Very well,” Damon says with a slight nod and a small look of worry on his face like he regrets the rash decision he made a few minutes ago and then retreated past the barrier to watch the event.

As expected, Melanie wasted no time before launching an attack on me. Before she could reach me, I spun away, remaining calm, while she reeled from the dodge. Without hesitation, she tries again, letting her emotions fuel her the longer we fight, making her movements predictable and unstable. Growing tired of this cat-and-mouse game, I focused on her actions, and as she grew near, I gave her one of my signature roundhouse kicks to the face knocking her out. Because I had spun away every other time, she wasn’t prepared for me to do something different this time, giving me the advantage. This same strategy probably will not work again.

Damon wasted no time counting to ten, dragging Melanie’s passed-out body off the stage and calling another contestant into the ring.

“Theo! In the ring,” Damon shouted off to the side, causing Theo to step forward with a playful smile on his lips.

“Ready to lose?” He asks me in a teasing tone, and all I can do is laugh. There would be a cold day in hell before I let him win.

“We’ll see about that. May the best woman win,” I say to him with a haughty voice and mischievous eyes.

Unlike Melanie, who rushed into the fight, Theo was calmer, patient, and more calculated in his movements. We circled each other for five minutes before Damon grew impatient and called for one of us to make a move. Theo comes at me within seconds of the command, and I barely block his attack before landing two punches into his gut and spinning away again to regroup.

“Aren’t you going to attack?” Theo asks, slightly perturbed by my patience… causing him to do something stupid and rash, like trying to throw another punch, which I successfully block by twisting his arm around his back and holding his arm high. With one arm pulled tightly against his back,

“A lady never starts a fight, Theo, but she does know how to finish them,” I say as I kick him down to his knees, my hand wrapped around his neck before I bend down and whisper in his ear. “Are you ready to submit now?”

“Of course,” he said without hesitation. I knew he wouldn’t take losing badly. Unlike other men, his pride isn’t hurt when a woman is better at him than something. “I submit,” Theo called out proudly, unashamed to be losing to a girl.

As soon as the words left his mouth, I released him, helping him stand before hugging him. “Good fight Theo; you were a worthy

opponent.”

“As were you. You’re going-” Theo was trying to say before the low rumble of a growl and Damon’s voice reached our ears, and he sounded annoyed.

“Enough, you two. The rest of us have better things to do than watch you hang all over each other,” Damon says in a tone dripping with jealousy, arms crossed over broad shoulders and a look so deadly that it kills ghosts. Picking our battles, Theo retreats out of the designated ring gracefully. As soon as Theo is out of the vicinity, Damon steps closer to me until his sandalwood scent consumes me.

“Stop fooling yourself in front of the whole pack by throwing yourself at that mutt. It’s embarrassing,” Damon spits at me, his voice laced with poison and meant to inflict the most damage. They would, too, if I cared what anyone our age thinks.

“What’s so embarrassing about it?” I ask, folding my arms over my chest, and I can feel the onset of a particularly stubborn streak seeping into my bones.

“Because he is not good enough for you, Biscuit,” he responds, staring into my eyes with his bright blue ones like he is trying to convey a message that he doesn’t want to admit aloud.

“It’s not embarrassing. Theo is a great guy,” I say, tilting my chin up at him in a silent challenge that he instantly recognizes based on the growl from his chest. Stepping closer to stand directly in front of me, infiltrating all my senses, making my head dizzy and my knees turn to jelly. I could sense his wolf lingering underneath the raw power rolling off the man standing before me.

“You may be an Omega, but we all know he is beneath you,” Damon says, his eyes cobalt blue one second and pitch black the next. Slade’s deep animalistic taking over, causing my skin to tingle uncontrollably without even being touched. “You belong with someone who sets your skin on fire,” leaning closer to whisper in my ear in a low guttural murmur, “like I am doing right now. Be careful, biscuit; I can smell your arousal.” with a deep inhale of my scent he spins around heading toward the edge of the ring, I vaguely hear him yell something, but I barely listen to it from how fast my head is spinning.

Damon’s distractions caused me to lose track of the tournament, giving my newest opponent a distinctive edge. Before I could blink, a long-haired brunette tackled me to the ground, causing us to roll around before it ended with her straddling me and punching my face repeatedly. In between punches, I can finally make out the face of my attacker and recognize a senior named….Emma…or is it Taylor? They may be fraternal twins, but they look remarkably similar, making it difficult to tell them apart. Not that it matters; whoever it is, they are kicking my a*s, and my patience with this entire event is gone. Finally getting it together, I block her next punch; grabbing both hands, I manipulate her center of gravity, making it easier to headbutt her, momentarily stunning her. Using her disorientation to my benefit, I flip her onto her back, taking my turn to straddle her. Using my uncanny speed, I release swift punches to her face, gradually putting more power into each point until she relents and finally passes out.

Crawling off her with b***d and sweat dripping off my face, I turn to face the rest of my opponents outside the ring, my voice cold and challenging. “Well, whose next? Or do I have to start calling out names?”

Without hesitation, Chad and Tyler part from the crowd and enter the ring with smug looks. After years of letting them torment me with the rest of the “A” crowd, I am excited to teach them a lesson. Flashing them the exact look I gave Damon earlier, I enjoyed watching their smugness falter, even if for only a second. Although, kicking their asses finally will be much more enjoyable…