novelraw Chapter 143: Forbidden
Chapter 143: Forbidden
Leo’s POV
The announcer stepped forward, holding the microphone as he prepared to shout her victory to the skies. "And now, for our champion, Samant—"
"Silence," I growled, cutting him off mid-sentence.
The stadium went dead quiet. I didn’t wait for an escort. I stepped off the high platform, my boots hitting the dirt with a heavy thud. I walked straight toward the armored figure, my eyes fixed on her.
Up close, I sized her up. She was taller than my Scarlett. Her body was leaner than the curves I remembered. And her hair, peeking out in thick braids, was as black as coal. Scarlett’s hair had been the color of dark chocolate. Every piece of evidence told me this was not her. My mind knew it, but my soul was acting like a compass pointing North.
I stood right in front of her. I leaned in and inhaled deeply, but the scent was all wrong. Instead of the vanilla and nutmeg that used to haunt my dreams, I smelled desert rain and bitter, crushed herbs.
But I didn’t back down. "Take off your helmet," I commanded. "At least the people should see the face of their champion."
She froze. She looked as if she wanted to bolt, but she stayed rooted to the spot. Slowly, she raised her hands and began to move them in quick, sharp patterns.
I frowned, my brow furrowing. I knew sign language—my fathers had forced us to learn it for silent communication during hunts. She was telling me she couldn’t remove her helmet.
"You don’t talk?" I asked.
She signed again. Yes.
I felt a spark of anger. I was sure I had seen her speaking to that warrior earlier. "Why can’t you remove your helmet?" I pressed, stepping closer.
Before she could answer, the tall warrior she had been with earlier stepped forward, bowing low to hide the tension in his eyes. "Alpha Leo, please forgive her. She belongs to a strict sect of the Zahra tribe. In our tradition, a woman of her standing has taken a sacred vow of the Veil of Honor. Her face is for her husband alone. To reveal it here, in front of a thousand strangers, would be a deep dishonor to her and her pack."
I didn’t blink. I didn’t care about their traditions. My wolf was scratching at my insides, screaming that there was something behind that helmet that I needed to see. "I don’t care about the vow," I growled, stepping into her personal space. "In the Full Moon Pack, we look our warriors in the eye. Show me your face."
"Alpha Leo," Alpha Musa said, stepping off the platform with a worried expression. "Please, respect our ways. She is a guest of the Iron-Claw. Is there something wrong? Do you suspect her of cheating?"
I stiffened. I felt the eyes of a thousand people on me. How could I tell them I was acting like a madman because a stranger’s movements reminded me of a dead girl? How could I explain that my wolf was currently trying to tear through my ribs just to get a look at her? How could I explain that even though she smelled like a stranger and looked like a stranger, the air in my lungs only felt right when I was standing this close to her?
"If she will not show her face," I said, my gaze never leaving her armored face, "then she must spar with me. Just a two-minute match. If she is truly the champion of this continent, she should be able to hold me for two minutes."
The air in the arena turned ice-cold. The crowd felt the tension, their cheers dying out into a heavy, expectant silence. Alpha Musa looked like he wanted to protest, but I didn’t give him the chance. I reached into my belt and pulled out a training knife, the dull blade glinting in the sun.
She hesitated for a second, then reached back and grabbed a wooden spear.
I had trained Scarlett. I knew every habit she had—how she tucked her shoulder, how she favored her left side when she was tired, the specific way she breathed before an attack. If this woman was Scarlett, her body would betray her. Muscle memory is a harder thing to kill than a person.
I struck first, lunging with a speed that would have ended a normal warrior. She moved. But she didn’t dodge the way I had trained her, or how Liam and Leonard had taught her. Her movements were quicker, aggressive, and entirely new. She spun the spear with a grace that felt ancient, blocking my blade with the shaft in a way I had never seen before.
We moved in a blur of dust and motion. I pushed her hard, testing her reflexes, looking for that one familiar slip-up. But there was nothing. Her style was different—so completely different. She fought like someone born of the desert and the sun, not the cold forests of our home.
I frowned, my frustration mounting. Who are you?
I decided to end it. I used a trick move—a fake stumble that lured her in. As she swung the spear, I dropped low, sliding past her guard and pulling her into me. My hand wrapped firmly around her waist, yanking her back against my chest.
She was so close. I could hear her panting heavily, the sound echoing through her helmet. The contact sent a violent thrill through my entire body, a spark so intense it nearly choked me. My wolf roared, not in grief, but in a strange, terrifying hunger.
If she isn’t Scarlett, then who is she? My second chance mate? No... that was impossible. The Goddess rarely gave seconds, and never like this.
She reacted instantly, slamming the butt of her spear into my foot to force me to let go. She pulled away and did a deep, formal bow, her chest heaving with effort.
I stood there, stunned, trying to keep my cool while my heart felt like it was going to beat out of my chest. I stared at her, my eyes searching her dark helmet for an answer that wasn’t coming.
Her moves weren’t the same, her scent was wrong, and her body was different. But that spark... that spark didn’t lie.
No. This wasn’t over.
If I can’t see her face...then there are other ways to find out the truth.