Page 56 of Unveiled

Garrett’s grin was all teeth. “That you’re still the kind of King worth following.”

Gauntlet thrown. Adrian felt Max shift behind him in warning. He didn’t look back, keeping his eyes on Garrett.

“You want to fight,” Adrian said softly.

Garrett’s gaze didn’t waver. “I want to know if you’re still King of the Gauthier clan, you damned peacock, or if you’re becoming whatever the village wants you to be.” He grinned nastily. “I’m challenging you since you hadn’t noticed your head is stuck far up Brannigan’s arse.”

Adrian’s pulse thudded hard. He could refuse. He could order Garrett out of his fort, banishing him from his pack for such disobedience and mutiny. But refusal would fester, turning into whispers, doubts, and fractures. And fractures were how clans died.

Adrian’s voice was quiet. “In the clearing?”

Garrett’s grin widened. “Aye. In the clearing.”

Max swore under his breath.

Adrian turned toward the door. “Get word to the rest of the clan. I want witnesses. This is a dominance challenge, not a slaughter.”

Max’s gaze was hard. “You sure about that?”

Adrian’s jaw clenched. “Do it.” He sent a scathing look at the grinning Garrett. “His defeat for the kingship of this clan obviously wasn’t enough for him. He wants to lose again.”

Word travelled through the fort like wildfire. Men stepped out of corridors, women paused in doorways, their faces tight with concern. As he walked, Adrian felt them wondering about his clan’s trust, their fear, and their hopes. A weight on his shoulders he’d borne for years.

Outside, the air was cold enough to sting. The moon had risen, lending its light to the events. The clearing lay beyond the tree line. A flat stretch of grass bordered by pines, used for training, for meetings, for the occasional fight that needed space. It was filling when Adrian arrived. Max at their head, Piper beside him, Jasmine with her arms folded, Laurence looking grim, and Rowland muttering something about men and their egos. In the distance, the rest of his people gathered, a surprising amount considering the lateness of the hour.

Garrett stood in the centre of the clearing like he owned it. Adrian stepped into the open and stopped opposite him. Max’s gaze flicked over him, assessing. Adrian met it briefly, an acknowledgment.

He lifted his chin. “Rules are simple. No shifting. Yield ends it.”

Garrett’s smile was sharp. “And if you don’t yield?”

Adrian’s voice was cold. “Then you’ll learn.”

A murmur rippled through the crowd.

Garrett stepped forward. “You’re doing this because you have to keep the peace.”

Adrian stepped in, closing the gap. “I’m doing this because you’re poisoning our clan with fear.”

Garrett’s eyes flashed. “Fear keeps people alive.”

Adrian’s mouth twisted. “Fear makes people stupid.”

Garrett lunged. Adrian met him head-on.

The first impact was brutal: shoulder into shoulder, fists landing hard, boots digging into wet ground. Garrett was heavier, stronger than Adrian expected, rage fueling his momentum. He drove Adrian back a step, trying to force him off balance.

Adrian let him. Then he shifted his weight, hooked Garrett’s arm, and twisted. Garrett grunted, stumbling, but recovered fast, swinging his fist, which Adrian barely dodged. The punch grazed his cheekbone, bright pain flaring.

The crowd reacted with sharp breaths, low growls.

Adrian tasted blood and felt his wolf surge under his skin, furious at being restrained. He kept it down. He drove forward, using leverage and training, not brute force. Garrett fought like a man trying to prove something to himself, his moves wild, powerful, and reckless. Adrian fought like a King who wouldn’t lose.

Garrett caught Adrian’s shirt and yanked, dragging him close. “You’re bound to him,” he snarled, his breath hot. “You can’t even see it, can you? You’re already—”

Adrian moved. He slipped aside with a dancer’s precision, letting Garrett’s momentum carry him forward. He spun, recovering fast, throwing a heavy fist at Adrian’s ribs, which Adrian blocked with his forearm to absorb the punch.

Garrett was fast. Adrian was faster.