A Werewolf's Unexpected Mate-Chapter 163: Kinetic Catharsis
[Ace’s POV]
I tuned out the noise of the crowd, the weight of the bets, the stall owner’s smug face. My world narrowed to the smooth wood of the ball in my palm and the side of the small table holding the pyramid of cups. I focused on the exact center point of the table’s side panel, calculating the angle and the precise amount of force needed to knock it over.
Without a word, I drew my arm back and threw. The ball flew faster and struck harder than Ovelia’s attempt, hitting the target with a sharp *CRACK* that echoed in the sudden hush. 𝘧𝓇ℯ𝑒𝓌𝑒𝑏𝓃𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭.𝒸ℴ𝓂
The table shuddered violently. A few cups from the top and middle of the pyramid wobbled and clattered to the surface. But the base held. The table itself remained upright.
A collective groan of disappointment rose from the section of the crowd who had bet on me, mixed with cheers and mocking laughter from those backing the stall owner. I looked at the owner. He was smirking again, pressing the ice pack to his forehead with one hand while giving me a condescending, one-shouldered shrug with the other. His attendant, Dane, merely watched with a neutral, unreadable expression.
From my own group, there was no sound. No groans, no encouragement. When I glanced over, I saw them simply watching. Ray’s head was tilted in analysis. Ann’s gaze was fixed on the table, as if recalculating. Ovelia’s hands were clasped tightly under her chin. Gale just looked bored, but his arms were crossed tightly. They were waiting. Trusting my next move, or simply observing the outcome.
I adjusted my wire-rimmed glasses with a slow, deliberate push of my finger. I picked up a second ball, tossed it high into the air, and caught it with a soft smack against my palm. I met the stall owner’s smug gaze and gave him a slow, cold smile designed purely to irritate.
"Have that silver wolf stuffed toy ready, old man," I said, my voice calm and clear, cutting through the background noise.
He opened his mouth, no doubt to deliver another taunt.
He never got the chance.
My arm blurred. The second ball left my hand not with a throw, but with a whip-crack release. It struck the exact same spot on the table’s side, but this time, the impact wasn’t just a hit; it was a transfer of kinetic energy so precise it bypassed the table’s stability. A deep, resonant thud echoed through the wood. The entire structure toppled backwards, and the pyramid of ten cups cascaded off in a clattering waterfall of wood to the floor.
Then, the crowd erupted. A wave of cheers and shouts of disbelief rolled over us. Those who had bet on me roared with triumphant joy. Those who had bet against us groaned and cursed, their bitter complaints swallowed by the louder tide of victory.
"Ha! You got lucky—!" the stall owner began, his face flushing with anger and denial.
I didn’t let him finish. I snatched up the third and fourth balls, one in each hand. In a single, fluid motion, I threw them in rapid succession—*thwack-thwack!*—each striking the center-side point of the remaining two tables with identical, percussive precision.
Two deep, shuddering booms echoed through the stall as the kinetic force traveled through the table legs and frames. The table holding thirty cups toppled over completely, landing on its side with a heavy whump as its cups spilled and rolled. The grand table with fifty cups swayed, groaned, and then tipped sideways in a slow, massive arc, crashing down onto the platform. An avalanche of fifty wooden cups erupted in a deafening, glorious racket of clattering wood.
Silence.
Absolute, stunned silence blanketed the crowd. The only sounds were the last few cups rolling to a stop.
I picked up the fifth and final ball. I tossed it casually into the air, caught it, and looked directly at the stall owner. His mouth hung open, his eyes wide with disbelief, darting between the three fallen tables and me, unable to process the swift, total demolition of his game. The ice pack was forgotten in his hand.
"I still have one ball left," I stated, the words clear in the quiet.
I drew my arm back and threw the ball directly at him. It wasn’t a malicious throw, but it had enough speed to demand respect. He fumbled, his reflexes kicking in, and caught it against his chest. He stared down at the ball in his hands as if it were a foreign object, his face a mask of pure, uncomprehending shock.
[Ovelia’s POV]
For a long, breathless moment, no one made a sound. It had happened so fast—the three sharp cracks, the tables falling, the cups scattering like dropped toys. My mind was still processing the blur of Ace’s movements.
Then, from beside me, Ray let out a low, rich chuckle. He reached over and clapped Ace on the shoulder, the sound firm and grounding. "Nice job," he said, his voice full of warm approval.
Those two simple words broke the spell.
"PROFESSOR A WINS! HE WAS RIGHT! HE SAID HE’D WIN AND HE DID!" Filafelia’s voice, shrill with triumph, pierced the air. She was jumping up and down on her crate. "EVERYONE WHO WON, COME CLAIM YOUR ORIGINAL BET FROM THE BARREL BEFORE WE DIVIDE THE POT!" she bellowed, already scooping up her own hefty pouch. "AND DON’T ANY OF YOU DARE LIE ABOUT WHAT YOU PUT IN! I MEMORIZED EVERY BET! PLUS," she added, pointing a dramatic finger, "WE HAVE A LIVING LIE DETECTOR RIGHT HERE!" She pointed directly at Ray.
Ray, playing his part, merely raised a hand in a casual wave, his expression one of amused readiness. The crowd laughed, a nervous, excited sound.
The crowd’s silence shattered into the loudest, most exuberant cheer yet. The sound was a physical wave of excitement. I turned to Ace, and found he was already looking at me. A pure, uncomplicated joy surged through me, so intense it felt like my heart might burst.
"Ace, you won!" I shouted over the noise, laughter bubbling up uncontrollably. I threw my arms around his waist, hugging him tightly. He stiffened for a fraction of a second, then his arms wrapped around me, strong and secure. "You won! You won!" I chanted into the warm fabric of his shoulder, giddy with his victory, with the shared, breathless thrill of it.
