Isla's POV
The Arena of the Twin Moons was built into the side of a mountain, ancient stone carved with runes that glowed silver in the pre-dawn darkness. Hundreds of wolves from all Five Territories filled the stands, here to watch the Trials. To watch us either heal our bond or die trying.
"I can't believe this many people showed up," I said quietly.
"The Trials haven't been attempted in fifty years," Professor Nightshade explained. She stood with us at the entrance, looking worried. "And never by a Silvermoon heir and a Blackthorn prince. This is historic. Everyone wants to see what happens."
What she didn't say: everyone wanted to see if we'd fail. If the prophecy would die here, in this arena, before it could come true.
"Where's your father?" I asked Daemon.
His jaw tightened. "Front row. Right where he can watch me die."
I followed his gaze and saw Alpha Marcus Blackthorn sitting with other Council members, his expression perfectly neutral. He looked like a concerned father, not the man who'd ordered assassins to kill us six hours ago.
"He's good at pretending," Daemon said bitterly. "I spent twenty-two years thinking he actually cared about me. About our pack. Turns out I was just another piece on his game board."
I wanted to comfort him but didn't know how. We were still strangers in so many ways. Mates who'd barely spoken before everything exploded.
"The first trial begins in five minutes," an official announced. "Participants, please enter the arena."
"Wait." Professor Nightshade grabbed both our arms. "There's something you need to know about the Trials. They're designed to target your biggest weakness as a couple. Whatever hurt you most, whatever broke you apart—the Trials will force you to face it."
"So the first trial will be about the rejection," I said.
"Most likely. And Isla?" She looked at me seriously. "The Trials read your heart. They know what you're really feeling, even if you lie to yourself. If you haven't truly forgiven him, the trial will know. And it will use that against you both."
Great. Magical torture designed to expose my deepest pain. This was going to be fun.
Daemon and I walked into the arena together. The crowd roared. Cameras flashed. I saw Red in the stands, holding up a sign that said "KICK ASS." It made me smile despite everything.
The arena floor was empty except for two circles drawn in silver—one on each side, about fifty feet apart.
"Participants, take your positions," the official's voice echoed.
I walked to one circle. Daemon took the other. The moment we stepped inside, the silver runes flared to life. Walls of light shot up between us, separating us completely.
"The First Trial tests Communication," the official announced. "You cannot see each other. Cannot hear each other through normal means. The only connection you have is the mate bond itself. One of you will face a choice. The other must guide them to the right answer using only your bond. Choose wrong, and you both fail. You have ten minutes. Begin."
The light walls solidified into mirrors. I saw my own reflection staring back—storm-gray eyes, scared expression, silver-blonde hair messy from the night's chaos.
Then the reflection changed.
It showed me at the Fall Equinox Ball. The moment before Daemon rejected me. I watched myself turn to run, watched him catch my wrist, watched the hope in my eyes die as he spoke those terrible words.
The mirror forced me to watch it again. And again. Each time feeling the pain fresh, the bond corrupting, the humiliation crushing.
"Stop," I whispered. "Please stop."
But it didn't stop. The mirror showed me every angle, every moment. Vivienne's cruel smile. His father's approval. The crowd's laughter. My collapse. The blood.
Focus, Daemon's voice suddenly whispered through the bond. I know it hurts. I know I destroyed you. But we need to get through this. Talk to me. What do you see?
"The rejection," I gasped. "Over and over. I can't make it stop."
The trial is showing me something too. Multiple versions of that night, but different. In one, I accept the bond publicly. In another, I reject you but follow immediately to apologize. In a third, I never meet you at all. His mental voice was strained. It's asking me which one I wish had happened. Which choice I wish I'd made.
"That's the test," I realized. "You have to choose. And I have to tell you which choice is right."
But how do you know which one is right? The trial could be testing whether I'd change my choice. Or whether I'd accept what happened. Or—
"Daemon." I cut through his spiral. "What do YOU want the answer to be? Not what the trial wants. Not what will keep us alive. What does your heart say?"
Silence for a long moment.
I wish I'd never met you, he said finally. Not because I don't love you. But because you deserved better than what I did to you. You deserved a mate who chose you from the first moment. Who was brave enough to love you publicly. Who never made you feel like you were second choice. His voice cracked. You deserved so much better than me.
Tears streamed down my face. "That's not one of the options, is it?"
No. The options are: accept the bond that night, reject you but apologize immediately, or never meet at all. Which one is right?
I looked at my reflection in the mirror. At the girl who'd been destroyed and rebuilt. Who'd discovered hidden power. Who'd learned she was more than anyone ever believed.
"The first one," I said. "You should choose accepting the bond that night."
Are you sure? That's what I want to choose. But is it what YOU want? Or are you just saying what you think will pass the trial?
"I'm saying it because it's true." I pressed my hand against the mirror, wishing I could reach through to him. "Yes, you hurt me. Yes, the rejection almost killed me. But it also woke me up. Made me strong. Made me fight instead of hide. If you'd accepted the bond that night, I'd still be pretending to be Omega. Still hiding my power. Still believing I was less than everyone else."
So you're saying you're glad I rejected you?
"No. I'm saying the rejection broke me open so I could become who I was meant to be. And as much as I hate what you did..." I took a deep breath. "I don't wish it never happened. Because then I'd never know what I'm really capable of."
The trial is asking me to choose, Daemon said urgently. Three buttons just appeared. I have to press one. If I'm wrong, we both die.
"Choose accepting the bond," I said firmly. "Choose the path where you were brave from the start. Where you chose me over your father's approval. That's the right answer."
How do you know?
"Because the trial tests communication. Trust. You have to trust that I'm telling you truth. And I have to trust that you'll listen." My hand trembled against the mirror. "I'm trusting you, Daemon. For the first time since the rejection. I'm choosing to believe in you."
Okay, he breathed. I'm pressing it. On three. One... two...
The mirrors exploded into light.
When my vision cleared, the light walls were gone. Daemon stood across from me, looking shaken. The official's voice boomed: "First Trial: Complete. The bond between you shows truth. You have passed."
The crowd erupted in cheers and shocked gasps. Apparently, people really hadn't expected us to survive even the first challenge.
But I barely heard them. Because Daemon was walking toward me, and the corrupted bond between us—it felt different. Still poisoned, still dying, but less painful. Like the trial had burned away some of the worst poison.
"You trusted me," he said, stopping a few feet away. "After everything, you still trusted me."
"Don't let it go to your head," I said, but I was smiling slightly. "We still have two more trials."
"Two trials between life and death." He smiled back—genuine, not the fake one he wore for crowds. "No pressure."
The official's voice cut through our moment: "Participants have one hour to rest before the Second Trial. Which tests..." He paused dramatically. "Sacrifice."
My stomach dropped. Sacrifice. That didn't sound good.
"Daemon." His father's voice called from the stands. Alpha Marcus stood, his expression still perfectly neutral. "A word. Privately."
"No," Daemon said flatly.
"It wasn't a request, boy." His father's Alpha command rolled over the arena. Several weaker wolves actually flinched. "You will come speak with your Alpha. Now."
Daemon's hands clenched into fists. The bond between us pulsed with his anger and fear. He didn't want to go. Didn't want to leave me alone.
But refusing a direct command from your pack Alpha in public? That was grounds for exile. Or worse.
"Go," I said quietly. "I'll be fine."
"He'll try to manipulate you," Daemon warned. "Try to convince you to drop out of the trials. To let the bond kill us so he can claim your territory."
"Then I won't listen."
Daemon looked like he wanted to argue, but his father's command was pulling at him—physical compulsion that couldn't be ignored forever. "Five minutes. That's all I'm giving him. If I'm not back in five minutes, come find me."
He walked toward his father, and the crowd parted to let them pass into a private chamber behind the arena.
I stood alone on the arena floor, suddenly aware of hundreds of eyes watching me. Judging me. Waiting to see if the Silvermoon heir would crumble under pressure.
"Isla Silvermoon." A woman's voice spoke from behind me.
I turned to find Lyra Frost standing there, her ice-blue eyes unreadable. "We need to talk. About Daemon's father. About what he's planning."
"What do you mean?"
"The Second Trial tests sacrifice," Lyra said quietly, glancing around to make sure no one was listening. "It will ask one of you to give up something precious to save the other. Usually it's symbolic—a memory, a dream, a fear."
"Usually?"
"But sometimes the trial gets creative. Especially when someone with power is watching and..." She hesitated. "And influencing the magic."
My blood went cold. "You think Daemon's father is manipulating the Trials?"
"I know he is. I saw him speaking with the trial officials before you arrived. Slipping them something." She pulled out her phone, showing me a photo she'd secretly taken. It showed Alpha Marcus handing a small vial to the head official. "That's shadow essence. Rare, illegal, and capable of corrupting ancient magic."
"What would it do to the trials?"
"Make them lethal. Turn symbolic sacrifice into real sacrifice." Lyra's expression was grim. "The Second Trial won't just test if you'd sacrifice for each other. It will demand actual sacrifice. Blood. Pain. Maybe even death."
"We have to tell someone—"
"Who? The officials he already bribed? The High Council that might be working with him? The Council of Shadows that wants you dead?" Lyra shook her head. "You're on your own, Isla. Whatever the Second Trial throws at you, you and Daemon have to survive it without help."
A scream cut through the arena—male, agonized, coming from the private chamber where Daemon had gone with his father.
I ran before thinking, my wolf surging forward. The door to the chamber was locked, but one kick from my Alpha strength sent it flying off its hinges.
Inside, Daemon was on his knees, blood pouring from silver wounds on his arms and chest. His father stood over him, holding a silver blade that dripped red.
"What are you doing?!" I screamed.
Alpha Marcus looked at me with cold satisfaction. "Making sure my son understands the cost of betrayal. He chose you over his pack. Over his family. Over everything I built for him." He raised the blade again. "Now he pays the price."
I shifted without thinking, my silver wolf lunging between them. But Alpha Marcus was ready—he threw something at me, a glass vial that shattered against my fur.
Pain exploded through my body. Not from wounds. From the bond.
The corrupted mate bond, already poisoned and dying, suddenly accelerated its destruction. Black tendrils spread from my heart, and I could feel them reaching toward Daemon, killing us both faster.
"Shadow essence," Alpha Marcus explained calmly. "Speeds up the corruption process. You now have maybe six hours before the bond kills you. Unless..." He smiled. "Unless one of you dies first. Break the bond through death, and the survivor walks away clean."
He dropped a silver knife on the ground between us. "The Second Trial begins in fifty minutes. You won't survive it in your current state. So here's your real choice: kill each other now and spare yourselves the pain. Or struggle through the trial and die slowly."
He walked out, leaving us bleeding and poisoned and completely out of time.
Daemon shifted back to human, gasping for breath. "Isla... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. He's never going to stop. He'll kill us both before he lets the prophecy come true."
"Then we don't give him the chance." I shifted back too, ignoring the pain screaming through every nerve. "We finish the Trials. We heal the bond. And then..." My eyes met his. "We destroy everyone who tried to destroy us."
"You should kill me," Daemon said quietly. "Take the knife. Break the bond. You'll survive, and you can—"
"I'm not killing you."
"Isla—"
"No!" The word came out with Alpha command. "We survive together or not at all. That's the choice I'm making. So get up, stop offering to die for me, and help me figure out how to beat your father at his own game."
Daemon stared at me for a long moment. Then, despite everything—the pain, the poison, the impossible odds—he smiled.
"There's my mate," he said.
The announcement echoed through the arena: "Second Trial begins in five minutes. Participants report to the arena floor. WARNING: Due to complications with the mate bond, this trial has been classified as LETHAL. Proceed at your own risk."
We looked at each other. Both bleeding. Both poisoned. Both completely out of time.
"Ready?" I asked.
"No," Daemon admitted. "But let's do it anyway."
We walked back into the arena together, and I saw it immediately: the floor had changed. Where there were two circles before, now there was one. A single platform suspended over a pit so deep I couldn't see the bottom.
And on that platform: two pedestals. One with a silver collar. One with a silver blade.
The official's voice was apologetic: "The Second Trial: One of you must sacrifice yourself to save the other. Collar or blade. Choose within ten minutes, or you both fall."