The Apocalyptic Queen's Werewolf Journey (Thora and Darius) novel Chapter 52

**Shadows Hearts by Joseph King**

**Chapter 52: A Power That Shouldn’t Exist**

**Thora’s POV:**

“Thora, welcome to the largest underground black market in Starlance City,” Harvey declared, his voice echoing slightly in the cavernous space as he led me deeper into the hidden underbelly of the city.

I trailed behind him, my senses heightened, taking in the grandeur of the structure that unfolded before us. It was as if we had stepped into an underground palace, its opulence starkly contrasting the gritty reality of the world above. The air felt thick with secrets, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that we had crossed into a realm where the ordinary laws of life didn’t apply.

This hidden enclave was truly a marvel, concealed beneath the bustling streets of Starlance City. The entrance was cleverly positioned on a street that lay beyond the reach of any pack’s authority, a clever choice that allowed this place to thrive in the shadows.

Had Harvey not guided me here, I would have never suspected that we were beneath the surface. The buildings around us and the very street we walked on mirrored the streets above, creating an illusion so convincing that even the artificial sky overhead, crafted with advanced 3D projections, felt real to my eyes.

With such an elaborate facade, it was hard to believe that there wasn’t a powerful figure orchestrating everything from behind the curtain.

Ashton, walking alongside me, casually clasped his hands behind his head. “You know, Harvey’s been frequenting this place since he was just thirteen. He’s made quite a name for himself in the underground fighting scene. I only started tagging along a couple of years ago. Sometimes, I even manage to snag a few goods from the black market,” he said, his tone nonchalant yet tinged with a hint of pride.

I nodded, intrigued. “What’s that building over there?” I asked, gesturing toward a grand structure that loomed ahead.

“That’s the largest auction center in the underground,” Harvey explained, pointing with a flourish. “All the high-value contraband that can’t be sold openly gets auctioned off there. It’s quite the spectacle, really.”

“Don’t you have a fight scheduled for tonight?” I inquired, recalling how he had mentioned it a few days prior.

“Absolutely! Come on, let’s go!” he replied, his excitement palpable as he cracked his knuckles, the sound echoing like a drumbeat of anticipation.

I followed him down a narrow corridor, the noise of the crowd growing louder with each step. The cheers and shouts of the audience reverberated through the air, a cacophony that sent a thrill racing down my spine.

As we pushed through a heavy door, I was met with a scene that took my breath away. Two werewolves were locked in combat on the arena floor, their bodies a blur of motion as they fought with primal intensity. The atmosphere was electric, thick with the raw energy of adrenaline and testosterone.

The moment Harvey stepped into the arena, he transformed before my eyes. Every muscle in his body tensed, radiating power. He no longer held back his wolf energy; it enveloped him in a fierce aura, a testament to his prowess as a fighter.

I couldn’t help but admire him. His physique was a perfect blend of strength and agility, and the wolf power coursing through him was as stable and formidable as that of any fully grown werewolf. It was clear he was born for this.

From what Harvey had shared, I learned that the underground fighting matches were categorized into three distinct tiers. The lowest tier was reserved for pure hand-to-hand combat, where no wolf power was permitted. These matches were aimed at werewolves who hadn’t yet awakened their wolf spirits or those wanting to hone their basic fighting skills.

However, these bouts didn’t attract much attention, with the audience being minimal. Rumor had it that the arena was even considering scrapping these unprofitable fights altogether.

Dressed in sleek black boots, his legs crossed with casual elegance, he observed the fighters below with a growing impatience.

“Boss, it seems Sharkie is enjoying himself a bit too much. When do you think he’ll wrap this up?” a woman beside him asked in a hushed tone, her gaze fixed on the black wolf in the arena.

She was clad in a daring leather crop top and tight-fitting leather pants, weapons visibly strapped to her long, athletic legs. Her confidence in her appearance was evident, as she seemed completely unbothered by the revealing outfit.

“He’s definitely dragging this out for fun,” Lance replied, his cold, alluring eyes darkening with a hint of annoyance as he rose from his seat.

“Let’s go,” he commanded, his fingers curling as a trace of dark purple energy flickered at his fingertips.

In an instant, the gray wolf, locked in combat with Sharkie’s wolf form, seemed to be ensnared by an unseen force. Its body stiffened before it was abruptly yanked from the platform, crashing heavily onto the ground below.

Thora’s brow furrowed in concern as she observed the scene unfold, her instincts on high alert.

Was that a special ability at play?

For the first time, she felt the unmistakable presence of a power that shouldn’t exist in this timeline.