Page 74 of Rhett

Imani laughed. “Chickenshit.”

“No, pig shit,” Nyx said.

The contestants entered the stall, and the pigs were released.

“Go, Imani!” Quinn yelled, cheering her on from the sidelines. “Get that pig.”

I laughed until my stomach cramped as I watched two men try to catch one of the pigs, only to end up facedown in the muck.

I turned to Rhett. “Maybe you should have tried.”

“Hell no. I learned a long time ago not to play in pig shit.”

Nyx and Imani were hilarious as they tried a two-woman strategy to corral a pig, which was an epic fail. They both ended up facedown in the muck.

Nyx wobbled to her knees while Imani rolled over faceup.

“Get that pig, baby,” Quinn said.

The crowd cheered, “Imani. Nyx,” over and over.

They both got to their feet, covered in muck.

I chuckled. “I can’t watch any more of this.”

Rhett shook his head. “Once you see one slippery pig contest, you’ve seen them all. Let’s take a stroll over to the axe-throwing contest to see how good you are.”

We walked over to an area set up with throwing targets and a bunch of axes. Three men were lined up in front of each target with three axes lying in front of them by their feet.

“Oh, that’s Emmett and Mack,” I pointed out.

“The third is Jasper,” Rhett informed me.

A referee said, “Go!” and Emmett, Mack, and Jasper picked up their axes and threw each one with spot-on precision, hitting the center of the target.

“They’re good.” I clapped loudly, then eyed Rhett. “Why don’t you try?”

“I’ll try if you try.”

“I’m game.”

We walked up to Emmett, Mack, and Jasper, who greeted both of us. None of them compared to Rhett’s bad-boy veneer, but they were certainly handsome, with bodies that looked like they were sculpted out of marble.

Are all male shifters genetically blessed with good looks and well-honed bodies?

“Stand here.” Rhett positioned me on a spot, then took his place. “This is the twelve-foot line.” Mack handed each of us an axe.

“Here are the rules,” Jasper told me. “Each game is five throws. You get the highest point value that the blade of your axe touches. Our bull’s-eye is worth six points, and each surrounding ring decreases to five, four, three, two, and one points. On the last throw, you can call the eight-ball.”

Emmett spoke next. “The target has a small circle with an eight in each corner. If you call the eight-ball on the last throw and hit one of them, you score eight points. If you hit anywhere else, it’s worth zero. At the end of the game, the higher score wins.”

“Is there a superninja technique to doing this?” I asked Rhett.

“Since you’re a beginner, hold the axe with two hands, bring your axe back directly over your head as if throwing a soccer ball, then bring your arms forward, releasing the axe at eye level.”

Emmett said, “Go.”

Rhett’s axe hit the bull’s-eye. My axe landed three feet from where I was standing in the dirt. “Shit.”