His Unwanted Gamma novel Chapter 8

Elara’s POV

“You want proof? Let’s take it to the field.”

My words settled into the room like a challenge carved in stone. Eyes darted between me and Garron, waiting for the blow–up.

Garron stared at me, wide–eyed, before bursting into uncontrollable laughter. He clutched his sides, his chair creaking as he rocked back and forth.

“You? Me? Outside?” he managed between gasps. “Tell me you’re joking.”

I didn’t respond. Just stood there, arms crossed, expression steady.

He wiped a tear from his eye. “I’ve seen toddlers throw better punches. You remember your brother Owen, right? He used to leave you crumpled in the dirt–and I’ve wiped the floor with Owen.”

“Then I suppose I’m overdue for a rematch,” I said coolly. “Unless you’re scared.”

His smirk vanished. “Scared? You’re gonna regret that.”

“No,” I said with a shrug. “You might.”

Garron launched out of his seat, fuming. But before he could charge across the room, Thorne’s hand clamped down on his shoulder.

“Alpha Cael,” Thome said tightly, turning toward Cael, “let’s not turn this into a circus. Ask Elara to step out and this all ends.”

Cael rose with the patience of a man completely unbothered. “Actually, I could use a bit of sport before we dive into logistics. What’s life without a little entertainment?”

Thorne’s jaw flexed. He looked like he wanted to punch Cael himself. “You’re really going to let this happen?”

Cael glanced at me, then back at him. “She doesn’t need me to stop her.”

“Elara,” Thorne snapped, his tone laced with frustration, “don’t do this. You’re not ready.”

“Appreciate the concern,” I said with a tight smile. “But I’ve heard enough from men who underestimated me.”

I turned to Garron, winked, and tossed over my shoulder, “Meet you outside.”

The BloodMoon Pack rose as one, following me out of the room. Not a single one looked worried.

Garron cursed under his breath and made to follow, but Thorne caught his arm again.

“Don’t break her,” Thorne muttered under his breath. “This isn’t about ego.”

Garron looked at him like he’d grown two heads. “You’re defending her now? She challenged me.”

“I said go easy.”

Garron rolled his eyes but nodded once. “Fine. Whatever.”

Thorne released him and followed the crowd out, jaw tight, steps tense.

The training field buzzed with murmurs by the time I stepped into the ring.

I peeled off my hoodie, revealing a fitted tank and leggings underneath. A breeze tugged gently at my ponytail. I rolled my shoulders, stretched my arms, and hopped in place once to loosen my legs.

1/3

13.00

MON, 28 Jul

Chapter 8

Across from me, Garron cracked his knuckles and smirked like this was a warm–up before the real fight.

I raised one brow and curled my finger at him. “Come on then, big guy.”

A hush fell over the crowd.

He charged without warning.

His size made the ground shake, but I didn’t flinch. I side–stepped just enough and jabbed once–low, fast, right into his ribs.

The hit landed. The crowd roared.

BloodMoon Pack erupted in cheers while the Direstone Keep side sat frozen, unsure whether to panic or pretend it didn’t happen.

Garron growled and came at me again, harder. But I was faster. Every hit he threw, I dodged, weaving in and out of his reach. His frustration grew with every missed punch.

Behind him, I could see Thorne in the front row, hands braced on the railing, watching with a kind of disbelief I didn’t have time to analyze.

“Stand still!” Garron shouted. “You’re like a damn mosquito!”

“Try swatting harder,” I teased, breath even.

He lost it.

With a frustrated roar, he threw everything into one final, crushing blow. If that fist had connected, it would’ve shattered my jaw.

But he was off balance. Too slow. Too angry.

I ducked under, spun left, and launched upward with all my strength.

My fist connected with his chin in a clean, upward strike.

The sound of the hit echoed louder than the crowd.

Garron froze for half a second, then stumbled backward.

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