The Triplet Alphas' Secret Mate

Chapter 142

Chapter 142: Who’s She

​Leo’s POV

​I leaned back in the carved wooden chair, the heat of the Nigerian sun pressing heavily against my skin. Usually, I could tolerate these events, but today, my wolf was pacing behind my ribs, restless and irritable. The Alphas beside me were talking about trade and territory, their voices a low noise that I tuned out.

​Ever since we landed, I felt like I was walking through a fog. Everything felt... off.

​Groups of warriors stepped onto the field, bowing in unison. I barely looked at them. I knew the game. Some female fighters were already throwing scent at me, trying to catch my eye with a flick of their hair or a flex of their muscles. They wanted a piece of a Full Moon Alpha. I wanted to be anywhere but here.

​But then, I felt it.

​It wasn’t a scent.

It wasn’t a sound.

It was a pull...like a hook catching in my chest.

​My head snapped toward the field. My eyes locked onto a figure dressed in charcoal-colored armor. The visor was dark, hiding everything, but the intensity coming from that warrior was strange.

For a split second, our gazes met. The air in my lungs turned to ice. I couldn’t see her eyes...but I felt a soul staring back at me.

​Then, the warrior looked away.

I muttered,

to stay nameless. They don’t want the fame; they just want the win. There are a few out

a she by the way she moved. She wasn’t the only one in armor, but she was the only one who

boomed: "Next match:

I expected a struggle, but what I

Before a minute had even passed, she used her opponent’s own weight against him, sweeping his legs and pinning him to the dust

it, my hands gripping the edge

had been completely bored moments ago, but now the blood was rushing through my veins. I hadn’t seen a female fighter that skilled in years. There was a precision in her strikes, a familiarity

the next round with a silent nod, walking toward the edges of the field to rest as the wolf-form fights began. The crowd roared as

walk over to a tall, black warrior. They started talking, his

flared in my gut. I didn’t even know the woman’s name—Samantha was likely a fake title—and I couldn’t even see the color of her

Ali asked from behind me, noticing my rigid

finger toward the girl in the charcoal suit. "The one they

​"Why the interest?"

couldn’t tell him that for the first time in three years, my wolf wasn’t mourning. He

my eyes narrowing as she laughed at something the warrior said. "I want to see

wasn’t about the fight. It was about the way my skin pricked when she was near. It was the impossible feeling that among thousands of

grey. Match after match, she was relentless. She didn’t just win; she dismantled her opponents. The crowd was starting to notice, too. The

the final match was

of tree trunks. He was the Iron-Claw’s champion, and he looked like he could crush her with a single

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