The battlefield is eerily silent.
For a long, breathless moment, no one moves. The dust is still settling, and the only sound is the heavy breathing of the wolves who fought, their bodies battered, some leaning on each other for support.
And at the center of it all stands Kieran.
Blood stains his skin, his body littered with wounds that should have healed by now
_ but they don't.
His breathing is ragged, his stance unsteady, but his eyes remain fierce, locked onto the figure lying on the ground before him.
Rehan.
The once-mighty alpha is on his knees, his face twisted in pain and disbelief. His chest rises and falls sharply as he struggles to push himself up, but his strength is gone.
Kieran has won.
For a second, no one reacts.
Then, slowly, murmurs ripple through the crowd, voices rising with mixed emotions.
"He did it…" someone whispers.
"He really won."