A Mate To Three Alpha Heirs-Chapter 208: Today Belongs to Her

{Third Person}

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Orion moved first. Just a single step, and the ground beneath his feet froze solid, ice spreading in jagged veins outward.

A second step, and shards erupted toward Elira like a volley of crystalline spears.

Elira spun, flames bursting from her palms in an elegant spiral, melting the first barrage mid-air. Steam hissed upward in twisting ribbons.

The audience roared.

Orion extended an arm, forming a blade of ice along his forearm. Then he lunged forward.

Elira met him with fire-coated fists, each blow clashing against his frost with crackling explosions.

She ducked under a swing, pivoted, and released a sharp burst of flame at his chest. But Orion’s shield snapped up instantly, a dome of frosted energy absorbing the hit.

"You’re fast," he admitted.

"And you are freezing everything," she shot back, breathless but focused.

The fight transformed into a dance.

Orion swept the ground with a wave of frost, and Elira leapt, flipping mid-air as flames shot from her heels, propelling her forward like a streak of comet-fire.

His ice swallowed the earth in sheets, and her flames turned them into exploding geysers of steam.

He struck her shoulder once—a numbing cold that spread like frostbite, and she countered with a blazing uppercut, sending sparks cascading like fireflies.

Every blow was an art form, and every dodge was instinct sharpened by training and survival.

The stands grew frantic. Professors leaned forward. Zenon’s jaw was tight. Lennon was on his feet. Rennon whispered a prayer under his breath.

Finally, Orion stepped back. His breath fogged heavily now, but his eyes shone with exhilaration.

"I see why they cheer for you," he murmured.

Then the temperature plummeted. Frost spiralled around him, forming wings—great sweeping arcs of crystalline ice that lifted him from the ground.

A storm of snow burst forth, swallowing half the arena. Students gasped, and even the King leaned forward.

From above, Orion thrust both palms downward—a blizzard of needles. Thousands of razor-thin ice shards rained toward her.

Elira’s heartbeat slowed, but right at that moment, Selene’s voice whispered to her, "Burn brighter, Elira. The sky is yours."

Elira inhaled, and her body ignited. Not in a wild or dangerous explosion, but in a controlled, elegant, radiant fire that wrapped around her like living silk.

She rose from the ground, fire lifting her as if gravity meant nothing. The audience screamed.

Fire met ice mid-air—a swirling vortex of red and white, colliding in a brilliant bloom of light.

The shards melted instantly, vaporizing into shimmering droplets.

Elira extended both hands, her palms open, and she pushed. A burst of crimson flame surged upward, striking Orion’s wings with such force that cracks splintered across the ice structures.

He faltered, but Elira was already moving.

She shot toward him like a streak of blazing meteor. Orion thrust his arms together, forming a massive spear of ice—his final, strongest attack.

He brought it down with a roar, but Elira didn’t retreat. She slid under the descending spear in a trail of flames, twisted behind him, and wrapped her arm around his midsection—a perfect, clean takedown.

They plummeted.

Orion hit the mat first. Elira landed atop him with a palm pressed to his chest, flame humming quietly under her skin.

He struggled, then stilled. "I yield," he breathed, exhausted and exhilarated.

A heartbeat followed, then another. Then— "The match is over. Elira Shaw is the winner."

Immediately, the arena erupted into a wall of sound, raw and thunderous, shaking the air.

Students surged to their feet. Elira’s friends screamed her name until they lost their voices.

The professors stood, stunned, proud. Alpha Cyprus smiled. Lady Maren stiffened.

Regina dug her nails into her palms until she bled once more. Princess Kaelis’s face drained of colour.

Elira didn’t hear any of it for a moment. She simply knelt there, chest heaving, letting the realization wash over her.

She was the champion. She had done it. She had won.

Selene whispered softly, "You have risen, Elira."

Elira lifted her head, the sunlight catching the streaks of soot and sweat on her skin, and saw her name being chanted by thousands.

"ELIRA! ELIRA! ELIRA!"

Then, her gaze drifted to the faculty stand—Zenon’s eyes shone with fierce pride. Lennon grinned widely. Rennon bowed his head in quiet triumph.

Elira’s lips trembled into a smile. Today... truly belonged to her.

---

The cheers were still shaking the arena when the Vice Chancellor stepped forward again, raising both hands for silence.

Slowly, but reluctantly, the roaring crowd quieted.

Elira stood in the centre of the field, her chest rising and falling with slow, tired breaths, her fire now dimmed but still glimmering faintly beneath her skin.

"Students," the Vice Chancellor announced, voice ringing powerfully, "and honoured guests... the Academy recognizes your Champion."

Then, she turned toward Elira. "Elira Shaw, you are this year’s Combat Victor."

A wave of applause crashed forward again. Elira bowed her head slightly, stunned all over again, unable to hide the emotion flickering across her face.

The Vice Chancellor continued, "As tradition demands, the Champion will deliver the Closing Address at tonight’s Founders Day Banquet—a speech that represents the spirit of ESA, courage, and excellence."

It felt like the entire world froze.

The students erupted once more into deafening cheers, but not everyone was cheering.

Up on the royal pavilion, Kaelis jerked sharply in her seat. Her face completely drained of colour.

’The Closing Address? HER speech? HER moment? Given to... Elira Shaw?’

Her hands gripped the armrests so tightly her knuckles turned bloodless. Next, she leaned forward, fury making her voice tremble.

"What is the Vice Chancellor doing? That speech is reserved for the Student Council President!"

Her father, the King, remained calmly observant beside her.

"She is the victor of the combat," the King said, unmoved. "Tradition outranks titles."

Kaelis’s jaw clenched so visibly that the nearest dignitaries looked away.

Meanwhile, at the faculty stand, Lennon nearly jumped out of his seat, grinning from ear to ear.

"I knew she would do it!"

Rennon nodded, his eyes bright with pride and relief. "Her mother would have been proud."

Zenon, arms crossed, merely exhaled a slow breath. But the faint curve of his lips betrayed him.

Elira had exceeded even his expectations.