4 | Caged
❝You didn't see that coming?❞

[Stunning cover by onederstruck- ]

There's always a time in your life when you feel completely and utterly caged. When you feel as though you're snared in the centre of a giant maze with no exit, and no way to escape. When you have nowhere else to go, because everything and everyone wants to kill you.

That's how I feel right now. For me, the Alpha Trials only has two outcomes: death or becoming the Alpha Queen if – and that's a big if – I win.

But I don't want to win. I don't want to be Alpha Queen. I am a Rogue, and always will be. Maybe if I win, then I can resign straight away, but somethings tells me the kingdom won't let me do that. They choose the strongest leader to fight a war, and if it's me, then so be it.

And the other option - death? For some reason, I don't want to die. Here I was, cornered in the place where I thought I would never end up in my wildest nightmares, and I was still alive. I had lived to see daylight.

I don't know why I want to live, but its nature. We are survivors, and no matter how hard we fall, we will always pick ourselves back up again.

"What're you thinking about, Alaska?" Josh asks as he gives me a sly grin. "You were giving me the dreamy eyes for a second, there."

I fold my arms across my chest, but feel a small smile edge its way onto my face. Last night, Josh, Azra and I had chosen a sleeping quarters to share for the tournament. They had gotten to know me, and I had actually made friends.

I ignore his question. Last night he pointed out I had a habit of doing that. Screw habits, this was my personality, and I wasn't going to change it now for some boy, even if he was cute. "Call me Ali."

"Oh, so it's Ali now? I thought you liked the nickname Rogue." He raises his eyebrows.

"It's easier to say." I point out, because it was true.

"Technically it isn't," Josh challenged with a quirk of his brow.

"Stop flirting, lovebirds." Azra scowls from the corner. The room we all stand in is a part of the arena, brick walls surrounding us like a stagnant catacomb. The air was still and cold, the light shining through the tiny windows circling us. The room was filled with all the other competitors, waiting to get a glimpse of who they were fighting against. "Pay attention."

In front of us was a nail, hammered into the wall so that it stuck out at a ninety degree angle. It was strange to think that we were all relying on this one nail, but it was where the battle schedule was to be hung.

A sturdy guard with a greying beard and shoulder length hair steps forward, a huge board clutched within his mighty grip. For some reason, the strange sensation of fear sweeps over me in a fleeting glance. He was huge, and other competitors here were equally so. If I'm put up against any of them, I know that I will die.

Josh squeezes my shoulder in anticipation, and I roll my eyes. I didn't need reassurance, and physical contact felt weird. He was being nice, but this wasn't me. I was a hundred thousand miles outside my comfort zone.

I hear Josh take in a sharp breath and I turn back to see his flared nostrils. "What're you so worried about? It's just some names on a crappy board."

"Yeah, but those crappy names could knock me out of the competition." Josh sighs as the guard begins hanging up the board, heads popping up as people try to get a glance of their opposition.

It was strange to think that tomorrow, only half of us will be standing here. Tomorrow, half of us will be gone or dead. We weren't supposed to kill, but there was no rule saying we couldn't. And if I lose, I will definitely die.

"Why are you so dependent on this, Josh?" I ask bitterly. Everyone was acting strange about this whole prospect. "What is so important about these trials?"

Josh turns a puzzled face my way, as if I didn't belong on this planet. "Are you kidding me, Alaska?"

"Ali." I remind him firmly.

"Fine, Ali." He retorts, rolling his eyes slowly. "This competition decides who is the next Alpha King or Queen. This is the first time in one thousand years they've had to hold such an event. To win is a huge, huge honour."

"Wow." I say sourly, perhaps more than I had anticipated. "Who filled your head with all that crap?"

Josh shakes his head. I wonder if he regrets choosing to be my friend. "It isn't crap. If it was, you wouldn't be here. You would've decided to be beheaded if it was pointless. We're all here for a reason, and I'm here to make my pack proud."

Someone coughs next to me, and a small smirk edges its way back onto Josh's face. "That's why we're here." Josh concludes, draping an arm around his Azra's shoulder.

I nod. I can understand where he's coming from. Pack wolves were very proud creatures, and winning the Alpha Trials gave the pack wolves more pride and recognition than they could ever ask for.

"I understand why you're doing it." I defend myself, eyes diverted to the huge board in front me. "But I can't afford to think like that. Tomorrow, I could be dead."

A hand clasps onto my shoulder, and I am spun around to meet Josh. "Don't say that," he growls, teeth bared in a protective manner. "You will be here tomorrow. You won't die."

"They'll kill me if I lose."

"You won't die." He insists. "We chose to friends with you because you looked fearsome. You had that look on you face, showing that even if the world would collapse beneath your feet at that very moment, you would clasp onto anything to gain life. You're not a loser, Alaska. You're a survivor."

I stare at him. Was I really that readable? It felt as though someone had simply opened me up and read me like a book, the font being size two hundred. I feel completely and utterly bare as if I'm not wearing any clothes.

"This just got really deep." I comment.

Josh rolls his eyes, but I can see a smile form on his face. "Shut up and pay attention to the board." He replies with a wink, leaving me hanging from a thin line, waiting for him to continue.

I turn back around, the gloomy darkness making it near impossible to read the names on the wooden board. The light was orange, casting a strange sunset shadow over the handwriting.

I flick over each name, until I find mine. It looks as though it's been written by a five year old.

Then I see the line joining me to my opponent. William.

William. Of all names, William. There was nothing wrong with it, it was just... old. And boring. And it made me think of an ancient werewolf king who I had learnt about in my old pack.

I swivel on my heel to face my new friends. They both look unfazed, Azra's jaw clenching and unclenching as she continues to stare at the name paired with her own.

"Good? Bad?" I ask, nodding towards Josh. The brief and meaningful conversation we were having a minute ago seems to have spontaneously combusted into thin air.

Josh looks uncomfortable as he shifts on the balls of his feet. He looked as though he didn't belong in his own skin. Scrap that, it looked as though he wanted to shed his skin and grow another one.

"In the middle." Josh scans the room as other wolves saunter around, barely talking to one another or looking anyone else in the eye. Josh points to a slender wolf. "His name's Jasper. Extremely skinny, but extremely fast. You?"

I shrug my shoulders. "No clue. Is William good or bad?"

"Crap." Azra curses as she listens in to our conversation.

I twist my head so that I can gaze her in the eye. "What?"

Azra nods her head towards a werewolf who stands a few heads taller than myself. His face was lined with greasy tresses, and it was easy to say that he was at least thirty or so. Not only that: he was a giant. His arms were guarded by chunks of muscle, and his size was staggering.

"That is William." Azra says, and I gulp.

I give Josh a side glance. "On second thoughts, you might lose. You know, just a one in a million chance of winning," Josh states.

The news hits me like a wrecking ball. My opponent was the size of Mount Everest and looked as though he was a Viking brought forward in time by a time machine. I was not going to win.

"This was a stupid idea." I say, and begin to stagger out of the dim room, the darkness snaking around me as I follow the cobblestone footpath. "I need to get out of here."

Why hadn't I tried already? Surely there was one way to escape, no matter how vast the castle, or how extensive the amount of guards was.

Azra grips onto my shoulder, stopping my actions. "Ali, there's no way out. Security has tripled due to the Alpha Trials. You can try, but they'll kill you in the process, and we're not going to let that happen."

"Remind me again when you two became so protective over me?"

"When we decided to make friends with a rogue." Azra replies. Ok, that hurt a tiny bit. I was a rogue, but it wasn't like I was a completely different species.

"Josh and Jasper into the ring!" The same guard who put the wooden board up shouts, the bold voice reverberating off the walls of the stone chasm.

I glance at Josh as he nervously gulps. He wipes his sweaty palms on his shirt, but his forehead has already become beaded with the substance due to nerves.

Azra gives her best friend a hug before I can say anything. "Good luck." She says into his chest, but her voice held out. She didn't sound as though her best friend was about to be put through the most traumatic event of his life. "You can do it. Aim for the throat. Use whatever weapon they give you."

Azra and Josh exchange smiles as I stand around, the awkward third wheeler at the back of the group.

Finally, I make eye contact with Josh. The moment I look into his mocha irises, I know that he can do this. He was an alpha, and he would prove that today.

We don't exchange words: only a basic, majestic nod.

And with that, Josh disappears out of sight into the unknown.

"Come on." Azra tugs at my arm, pulling me to the pathway lining the arena. Here we were below the stands, but there was a gap of about half a meter that enabled the competitors watch their competition fight.

Josh and his opponent – Jasper – stand opposite one another as the crowd roars above us like an eternal beast, devouring the moment as if they wanted to preserve it until the end of time.

The guard - or rather the enforcer - steps forward and bellows, "Fight one, Round one of the Alpha Trials. The match will last until one of you is unable to continue. The winner will move onto the next round, and the loser will be sent home. The guard pauses, raising an arm in the air. "Good luck," He mutters as his arms comes down, and the fight begins.

The spar blurs before me. One moment Josh is being knocked in the face, and the next Jasper is held in a head lock. The crowd above me continues to yell, scream, bellow at the top of their lungs as if there was no tomorrow.

Finally, after the haze, I manage to pick out Josh standing above Jasper, delivering a monumental kick to the other boy's skull. The was the battle over. Josh had won.

Azra lets out a sigh of relief beside me, and I send a small smile her way, thankful that he was ok.

"Alaska and William into the ring!" The same guard shouts, my bones turning to ice, becoming so fragile that they would surely shatter.

Everyone turns my way, and I stand as still as a statue, afraid that if I move in the slightest, the world will come crashing down. Now I understand why rabbits freeze when they're caught in headlights: it's as if every cell in my body is screaming please don't see me. Please don't see me.

But of course they can, cold stares snaking through the general tranquillity of my brain.

Azra pushes me from behind, edging me forwards. "Good luck," she whispers, but her tone is shallow because she knows the outcome. We all do.

The participants around me part like the Red Sea for Moses, eyes glaring, eyebrows raised, heads all turned in my direction. They whisper as I slowly go past, the murmur of my name, the faint buzz of a chuckle. They thought that I couldn't win, but maybe, just maybe, I would live to see these disgusting, dank walls once again.

I see Chase somewhere in the crowd. He doesn't make eye contact with me, but I can feel his eyes piercing the back of my skull, as if he was trying to open it with the power of his mind. I shudder. I didn't know why I was so bothered about him so much as looking at me, but it felt strange, even in this world.

I reach the entrance to the arena, the sunlight only a few steps ahead. Dust motes prance through the air as Josh walks past me. Once again, all he needs to do is bow his head, meaning the same thing yet again: good luck. But it also means something else: goodbye.

Next comes Jasper, dragged out by two guards, his feet dragging carelessly along the gritty floor. His head lulls from side to side, evidence that he was still unconscious.

Beside me, the alien noise of clicking knuckles alerts me to another presence. Hands large enough to cover my head continue the snapping noise, and then shake off the feeling as the huge man saunters and takes his position next to me.

The guard is next, leading us into the arena. I try to force my legs not to move, but they don't obey. They seem to have a mind of their own as they try to protect their owner from a painful punishment for not even walking into the ring.

Sunlight blinds me as I gaze around, seeing the huge arena surrounding me. Hundreds of faces peer at me, all cheering for the other werewolf standing beside me. Beneath me, sand threatens to infiltrate my boots, the arena so wide and circular that it will be hard to corner my opponent.

And before me, in his royal robes and looking out of place within the citizens of the city, stands his Highness. He looks at me, raises his chin, and diverts his gaze.

"Fight two, Round one of the Alpha Trials. The match will last until one of you is unable to continue." The guard hands each of us the same, small silver dagger which I gratefully take. At least I knew how to use it. "The rules are the same as earlier. Good luck." He states, but I feel his head turn towards William. Of course he didn't want me to do well, let alone the rest of the population.

The guard brings down his arm, and then sprints out of the ring, the yelling of the crowd dying like his fading footfalls.

William smirks at me. I thought that someone over the age of thirty wouldn't do something of that nature at that age.

"I'm going to make your death nice and slow, so that they can have their show." William bared his teeth, yellow canines exposed to the sun. "Have fun dying, rogue."

I snarl at him. "It's Ali," I correct, but he does so much as bat an eyelash.

An ear-splitting shriek rips through my opponent's throat as he slices with his knife, bringing it down in an ark. I spin out of the way, but just in time. If I had been a millisecond later, the blade would have made contact with my skin.

I spiral around to growl at him, bending my knees and holding the knife out in front of me, my battle position telling him that I'm ready, although mentally I feel as though I will never be ready. Not for a competition like this.

"You're swift, I'll give you that." William sneers as he swipes with his blade once again, but his actions seem jerky and uncomfortable: he was not accustomed to such a weapon. "But you're not escaping death this time, rogue."

When will they realise that calling me rogue makes them look pathetic? I wasn't even a true rogue. If I showed them one of those, they wouldn't survive to see another day. I had only encountered one once when it crossed our territory when I was still part of a pack. The beast was killed before my eyes, and it was one of the earliest murders I remember witnessing. It was one of the many events that had shaped my past, and continued to weld together the loose strands of my future.

I fail at avoiding William's next attack, backing away too slowly as the male knocks me over onto the ground. My back hits the hard floor beneath me, accompanied by 'oohs' and 'ahs' from the audience. One person even yells, "slit her rogue scum neck!"

I shiver at the remarks, but I'm quickly back on my feet, breathing rapidly to try and gain some oxygen, when I realise my vulnerable position. Above me is my opponent, fists clenched so tight, it seem as though the bones are breaking through his pale skin.

A fist meets my stomach, and I immediately double over in pain, flimsily treading backwards as I begin to splutter up blood, spraying William with the liquid. Somehow, he doesn't seem fazed by the prospect. But I can't let him see how much his strength hurt me, so I grit my teeth and chew my gums until it draws blood.

Abruptly, a hand wraps itself around my neck, the freezing knife pressed against my windpipe, almost crushing the air from my lungs.

For a second, I'm too shocked to move: any movement I create, I feel as though he'll slice my neck open, and that would be it. I would be gone. The pain, the suffering for once in my life, would be over.

Maybe it's not so bad to die, here in the sand, by the hand of a monstrous guy. Maybe I would let myself think like that, but animal instinct takes over, and my elbow connects with the man's stomach.

He doesn't flinch much. Not even a flicker of pain crosses his face as I spiral out of his arms, knife at hand.

However, he seems dazed. I quickly kick his arm, knocking the knife from his grip, sending it flying meters behind him. Going against every single moral my father taught me about having a fair fight, I keep my own weapon clasped firmly within my grip. William was three times stronger by default, and I required the advantage to win.

William retaliates, punching me in the side of my head, my reaction speed too slow to stop him. If I had been a normal human being, I would have been knocked out without a doubt. The fact that we were werewolves gave us superiority to the creature that composed half of our DNA, especially because of our faster healing rate.

I block his next attack by shielding my hands with my face, but the protection doesn't last long. My midsection lies exposed, so he just punches me once more in the gut instead.

I try to keep a stoic expression, but by now I feel as though I'm deteriorating into pieces.

"Go on Alaska!" Someone calls from the stands, the voice distinctly Azra's. "You can do it!"

"Yeah! Go Alaska!" A stranger called out from the viewers, not caring about my rogue background. Nobody else joined his pointless cheers, but the words sparked hope within me, and one spark was enough to light a fire.

My heart thrums. My muscles ache. My body is ablaze. And I thrust all of my power into one blow, time slowing down as my fist makes contact with the monster's head. I slash with my knife, but William momentarily knocks my arm away so that all I inflict is a shallow cut across his left cheek.

The blow created by my hands is harder than I think. William's arms pinwheels backwards as he struggles for balance, which he unfortunately gains.

Yet again, his clenched hands appear as his feet land wider apart, giving him a more secure base.

"So the rogue can fight." The wolf snickers at me, somehow finding time to do so.

"Why are you acting so surprised?" I retort with a shrug of my shoulders.

William opens his mouth to reply, the beginning of a word forming in his voice box. He never finishes that word. I punch him in the throat instead.

William produces a horrible gurgling noise, but his arms still manage to shoot up and reach for my neck. I defect his arms away, but he punches me again before I can protect myself fully. My hands fumble for my knife, slick with sweat, but after years of practice with a similar weapon, I'm able to regain control and thrust it deep into the man's abdomen without a second thought. But in a swift motion, William pushes me away, allowing me time to gather my strength as the knife is left lodged in his body.

The blaze inside me roars to an inferno, the blood gushing through my ears, blocking out any sound from the crowd. All that existed was me, this battlefield, and my opponent. Nothing else. We were floating in the middle of existence, tipping precariously on the seesaw of life and death. If William got another chance, I would lose my balance, fall, and die.

There were only a few steps that I needed to do, and one millions ways it could go wrong. As well as that, there was only one way it could go right, which wouldn't end up with my imminent death.

I step forward so quickly, William has no time to compensate my actions before I deliver another skull rattling punch to his head. It was hard to reach his ginormous height, but I myself was not too small, and a little jump gave me the elevation I needed.

My opponent sways for a nanosecond, but I use all my might in that tiny space of time to kick William's legs out from under him. His bulk of muscle topples to the ground at lightning speed, his head bouncing up as it rebounds off the floor.

He was not unconscious, but it gave me enough time to act.

I wrench the knife from my opponent's chest, the pulse of my heart racing through my fingers as adrenaline poisons my bloodstream. Yet William reads my actions as I raise the blade above my head, and hits away my arm, knocking the knife ten meters to my left.

I'm up on my feet before I can comprehend my actions, snatching up the weapon as though it was about to detonate from the lack of use.

I could throw a knife, but I could also miss. It wasn't my favoured weapon, and if I missed this opportunity, that one way of doing my plan correctly would combust. I would die if this didn't go to plan. I was caged, swallowed up by the arena, with nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.

William is already to his feet, his eyes squinting as he raises his dark orbs towards the sun. His hand brushes off the sand from his face, and then goes to run over the tender lump where his head made contact with the arena's sandy carpet.

He spots me, mouth open, his nose bleeding so profusely that it's already dripping down onto his shirt. Would people miss him if I decided to kill him right here, right now? His pack would be left unprotected, but otherwise I couldn't see him having a mate. He was as cold hearted as the rest of them.

I take a deep breath, focus on the one way, and let the knife fly.

William's life ends with a gurgle.

And the crowd stares at me in silence.

*A/N - I'm so sorry for the late update, but I had exams which probably went terribly, but let's not talk about that.

Alaska is awesome. I love her. She's the deepest character I've ever written about, so I hope she seems realistic...

Josh and Alaska are cuties. I was thinking Jalaska for the ship name?

Also please DO NOT call Alaska brainless or stupid. Everyone has flaws, and she's got a hyperactive mind and can't concentrate. Not every character can be perfect and get straight As. Alaska didn't grow up with a proper education; she is a wild werewolf.

THANK YOU FOR 2K!! I have no idea how this is doing so well, but the one thing that I do now is that you're all amazing. I can't thank you enough.

-Lotte x

Gif: Alaska when her name is called
Song: Animals - Maroon 5

Dedicated to one of my new wattpad friends PrincessMoonlightx for being an amazing and inspiring author. Thank you for being an amazing friend, but it also reading and commenting - your comments make my day! Also A New Dawn is one of my favourite werewolf books.