15 Traditions

♔Tristen (P.O.V)

A cacophony of deafening alarms sings their angry music. Growling at the loud noise that pounds angrily against my headache, I reach my arm out of my cover and turn it off.

"Why do I even turn you on?" I groan.

The alarm going off means it's roughly seven in the morning. That also means it's the day that I'm to fight my father. The day that we fight until one of us is dead.

"I don't want to do this, Remi," I sigh as I tug the blanket that snuggly rested on my head off my body.

"We have to Tristen. It's tradition," Remus states.

A small sigh escapes my lips, he's right. Over the years of the werewolf hierarchy, it's been determined that Lycans are the purest and strongest. A pure breed of werewolves.

Eventually, a system was implemented. That system contained a king, and just like the normal alphas that littered the lands, he ruled his pack as the leader. The only difference between them was the king ruled over all the packs.

It had its limitations, as all ruling systems do. People often revolted against having a king. Those packs ran on their own with no aid or interference from the rulers. The leader of the species didn't have the time to squash every pack that didn't agree. Instead, they solely wouldn't offer aid if their pack fell on hard times, or help in any way.

At some point, it was determined that we would fight to the death against the king to take his place. To prove who the strongest was and that the winner deserved the title.

"How are your injuries?" Remus questions.

"Mmm,"I hum as I sit up on the edge of my bed. Only then is it that I realize I only have the shorts I wore last night on. I must've passed out as soon as I got home and cleaned my wounds. Wounds. The various scratch marks that covered my chest and stomach, and the bite mark on my left bicep.

The bite mark that claimed hold of my arm is almost completely healed. A faint purple color that shies away under the tan color of my skin is the only remaining evidence of a possible injury. That too will also no longer be there in probably less than an hour.

The scratch marks that tracked down from my left pectoral down to the bottom of that corresponding rib cage was almost finished healing. Only a few red marks remained on the skin. The wounds that had scattered down from the right pectoral to my stomach had healed similarly.

"They're healed fine," I mention to Remus.

"Good, all I needed to know. Let's start heading that way," he urges.

~

"Prince Tristen," Nichole whispers as I reach the entrance to the arena. "You're going to go in there and stand at the x marked in the dirt. It'll be a few steps away from your father. Felix is already up there with the mic and paper with his lines on it. Jakub, who's already in wolf form, is in his position as well. Felix will ramble on about things he's supposed to, then you and your father will hug. Just follow everything else that is instructed and remember the practice Jakub had you do last night."

"I understand," hugging her tightly I whisper, "Thank you, Nichole."

I feel as her body begins to shake, and her breath starts to give away after every deep recovery. I hug slightly tighter, willing it to be okay. She's going to lose her best friend's mate or her best friend's child. Sophia, my mother who passed away a while ago, was Nichole's best friend. They were practically sisters, and when my mother passed away, she ultimately became that figure in my life. So, I understand why she's upset. It's almost like losing her best friend all over again in either outcome.

"It's okay," I coo as I release her from the hug. I flash her a forced smile and gently pat her on the shoulder as I continue, "I got this."

"Good luck Tristen. Make your mum proud," her voice breaks as she smiles back, sadness filling her eyes.

Walking into the arena, I see how packed it is. Every seat filled pack full to the brim. Colorful tops blast my eyes from every direction as hundreds of people fill the stadium. No doubt, many pack leaders from supporting packs litter the crowd.

Felix sits in the box where the king would ordinarily sit, with his mic in hand. Jakub sits proudly in his unique white and black marbled wolf form beside Felix.

I slowly approach the x that decorated the area in front of my father. Similar to the area that my practice spar was in last night. Standing proudly in my designated area, I get a chance to see my father for the last time.

Up close, I realize that my father looks worse than the last time I saw him. Although he appears to be standing up straight pain-free, I can tell otherwise. I observe the occasional grimace flash across his wrinkled and pale face. His fierce red eyes that held bags under them are now a lifeless hue. The once long silky brown hair is now in a short buzzcut and a peppery gray.

His clothes- his clothes are the same ones he wore in the picture that rests on his desk. The casual white t-shirt with a regular pair of blue jeans.

"Ladies and gentlemen! Werewolves and she-wolves! Welcome to the most prominent event in our werewolf culture! The spar of the century, if you will! Standing on the side closest to me, at a staggering 6′4″, I bring to you the King of the Royal Lycan Pack! The leader of all werewolves! Taega. . . Clark!" Felix howls in his professional voice, as he motions towards my father.

Motioning towards me he continues in the same announcer voice, " On the opposite side, at a staggering 6′4″, I bring to you the Prince of the Royal Lycan Pack! The next in line to the throne! Tristen. . . Clark!"

Lowering his voice to a normal volume, " Alright now, dames and cavaliers, I have a few rules for my spectators. Rule number one, you are not allowed to set foot in the ring. Doing so will have you escorted off the premises or possibly killed. Number two, no interference from anyone at any point after the fight starts. Doing so will result in an escort from the premises or death. Number three, no recording with your fancy cellular devices. Doing so will result in a broken phone and hand."

"For my brave warriors, I have two rules for you both. Rule number one, one of you must die. Rule number two, no leaving the building all fighting must be done inside the ring. Leaving the ring will result in a forfeit from the accused party and death."

"Alright, now that that is out of the way! Let's get a sign of that sportsmanship from our brave contestants!" Felix shouts, causing the crowd to cheer.

On cue, my father and I both step forward and embrace each other in a hug. Silently he whispers in my ear, "I love you, son, and I'm so proud of you. I know for a fact that your mother would be too."

Breaking away from the embrace before I can say anything back, he returns to his position. Hastily, I follow suit and resume my previous place.

"Shift!" Felix howls through the microphone.

I begin my shift similar to yesterday, except being fully clothed. The familiar noise of bones snapping vibrates through the air, along with the screams of excitement from the crowd.

After a few moments of our bodies adjusting and becoming their other counterpart, I see my father's wolf for the first time in years. His bulky red wolf is peppered with gray throughout his fur. His muzzle was almost solid gray and clearly showed his wolf's age.

"Alright, wolves! Sit!" Felix shouts, we both obey and sit right on our x's.

"Our bulkier, peppered gray and red wolf, towering at a generous 3′5″ is our lovely King Taega. Our still moderately bulky, solid red, standing at a tall 3′4″ is our captivating Prince Tristen," he states, causing various people to roar with our names as emotion peaks.

"Now, Orbit!"

Like clockwork, we both begin to orbit. Exactly like what I was shown yesterday.

"One," he counts, fear and nerves begin to form a noxious ball in my stomach.

"Two, at the final count the Royal Lycan Pack's current beta, who is already in his wolf form beside me, will howl signaling the start of the battle!"

We continue circling, and the knot sinks as we begin our final orbit.

"Three!" Felix shouts. Almost at the same time Jakub's wolf lets out a loud howl signaling the start of the battle.

Within seconds my father surges at me, hitting me instantly on my right side. The sheer force of the collision knocks the breath from me. My lungs begin to wheeze as they try to replenish the wasted oxygen.

The amount of force he used sent him rocketing over me. Losing our balance, we both tumbled against the ground sending dirt and dust flying in the air. Springing back up into a swift stand, I have a second to catch my breath as my father struggles for a few seconds to get up. The very action strikes misery into my heart if observing him get up bothers me, then how can I kill him?

"I knew he wasn't going to hold back, but I didn't expect this," I whisper to Remus in my head.

"He's old and dying, but it would mean more problems for the pack if he laid down and took it. Especially for you, people would accuse you of gaining the position unfairly and probably challenge you. So I suggest you do the same."

"You have a point, I guess," I shrug, mentally.

My father finally gets up, finding his footing.

I let out a soft howl as I rush towards him with the most amount of speed I could summon, sending more dust sailing in the air. His legs tense, slightly shifting all his weight from all of his paws to his back feet. If I hadn't been paying attention, I would have missed it.

He's planning on taking the impact as I did with Avery!

Shifting the weight on my paws, I divert my direction and start to run around him. Digging my nails into the dirt, making sure I have footing and adding extra dust to the cloud that begins to form. One. Two. Three. Four. Five, I continue to lap around him, progressively making the cloud worse as I go.

My body is sent flying as a force the size of a truck rams into my side. My father stands over top of me, growling. I swing my front paws wildly, hitting him in the face as I nip at the underside of his neck. My father stomps his front right paw on my chest, knocking the breath out of me. A sharp pain pierces through my neck as he sinks his teeth into my flesh. A small whimper leaves my body as I start wiggling my body around, trying to get him to lose his grip.

His grip doesn't loosen instead, it tightens. I'm confident his teeth must now be touching each other at the intensity of his grasp. With his hold on my neck, I have no way to bite any part of his body.

"Oh no! It looks like King Taega has Prince Tristen down in a vicious lock, will he be able to get out?" Felix questions into the mic, the crowd goes wild as they start cheering even louder.

Am I done for?

No. I can't be.

This seems familiar to what happened in the practice spar. To get out of my kill spot, Avery clawed at my stomach one of our weakest points.

I have no other choice.

A loud growl erupts from my body as I brutally begin to tear his stomach with my hind claws. I feel as the warm wet liquid begins to matt the fur on my underbelly. A pained howl emits from my father's wolf as he springs back in agony. Quickly, I lunge on top of him in his dazed state, biting deep into the back of his neck. Swinging my head back and forth aggressively, I succeed in making him drop to the ground. Stomping my foot forcefully onto his head, I chomp down into his neck blood pools into my mouth as I crush his esophagus.

A few pained wheezes escape his body as he opens the pack link, "I knew you-" he gasps for air, "could do it." A small wolfish smile dances across his face.

A howl of remorse leaves my body as his body went limp, I could hear as Jakub joined in with me.

I watched as his features went to a dull lifelessness, and his eyes glazed over. As his body became human again, I felt the power of the previous king and alpha, rush through my body.

"Congratulations! All welcome your new King, Tristen!" Felix addresses the crowd through the microphone once again.

As everyone starts to leave their seats, a young man around my age approaches me. His brown hair slicked back behind a black beanie he casually rests his left hand on his head.

"King Tristen, you don't have to answer me since you're in your wolf form right now, and I'm sure it would be tremendously awkward if you shifted right now. So I ask if you'd just listen to me," he starts.

King. Reluctantly, I nod my wolf head yes. I'll listen to him, although, I honestly don't want to. I want to go crawl in my bed and sleep for a week or two. I just killed my fucking father to gain that stupid title.

"I have an entertainment ring set up in my pack lands, similar to this. It's not near as marvelous though. I planned on hosting an event for your honor once you won. Most of the pack leaders are invited, and I'm sure it would make a high opinion on them if you showed up to things they enjoyed," he smiles a wicked smile, "I'm Flynn by the way. Alpha of the Rushing River Pack."