The arena beneath the Grand Meridian had been built for exactly this.

Circular, sunken into the sub level, ringed by tiered stone seating that rose in concentric half circles.

The floor was packed earth. Not concrete, not tile.

Earth. As if whoever designed this place had understood that wolves settled their disputes on ground they could dig their claws into.

A hundred wolves filled the seats.

Fifteen Alphas in the front row.

The air hummed with anticipation, the primal frequency of a crowd that had come to watch two predators decide the future.

Valtherion walked me to the edge of the arena.

The warm up had been brief. Stretches, shadow...