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Wyatt

“ L ook at how tall he is. I bet he could crush a man’s head with one hand.”

My head feels like it's about to explode as the weight of their stares and hushed whispers make me feel claustrophobic. A small crowd of curious spectators, here to watch the games and mingle with the competitors, has gathered around me. They mean no harm, but after two days without sleep, I'm not in the mood for twenty questions or to be treated like a freak show.

Standing at nearly seven feet tall with shoulders broad enough to fill a door frame, I'm used to the second looks and fearful glances. My dark hair falls just below my jaw, and the scars that mark my body tell stories of survival as a homeless teen that none of these pampered pack wolves could understand.

The long scar on my forearm is from three wolves who cornered me during my first winter alone. The round mark on my shoulder is courtesy of an alpha who caught me stealing food and decided teaching me a lesson was more important than feeding me.

Years of constantly moving and working whatever hard labour jobs I could get have hardened my body into solid muscle. The shifters currently gawking at me should be used to seeing impressive physical specimens, but even among the alphas all gathered here to compete in the games, I know I stand out.

And being a rogue adds to the sense of danger they feel when they see me pass by.

But I’m the last person here that anyone needs to be concerned about. I’m not here to cause trouble. All I want is a pack to call home, but if no pack will accept me, and no alpha is willing to have a wolf as strong as mine under their command in case I turn on them, I'll just have to win my own.

Now that Jamie, my sister, has found her fated mate and her place here as Luna, she's more relaxed than I've ever seen her. It’s making me more than a little envious. Her fight is over while mine feels like it’s just beginning as I watch my competition moving through the thronging crowd.

Winning the Alpha Games is not going to be easy. The Games were common generations ago, a way to let wolves compete for territory without the bloodshed that nearly wiped us out. In recent years, packs have passed down through families, inherited rather than won.

But without any family to take over a pack in his region, Blake Steel has revived the practice, hoping it’s a fairer way of promoting a new alpha than awarding it to whomever is in the council’s good books. The Games consists of challenges to test strength, skill, and leadership. The winner gets a territory to lead, respect from the council, and a chance to build something lasting. At the end of the competition, the losers go home empty-handed, or in my case, back to having no home at all.

Which is why I need to focus, but my wolf is on edge.

Is it being around so many people after years of living on the fringes of society? Maybe. Does he sense a threat I haven’t picked up on yet? More than a possibility with the amounts of hard looks and sneering comments I’ve been getting from those who think a rogue isn’t fit to lead a pack and should’ve never been allowed to enter in the first place.

"What was it like living as a rogue?"

"Are you officially part of the Reynolds’s pack now?"

"Are you still going to compete now that you're no longer homeless?"

It's a struggle to keep a scowl from my face as best I can while I politely respond to the extremely personal and invasive questions being thrown at me. Most of them, I don't have answers for, because I don't know yet myself.

Should I continue to compete, knowing nobody wants me to win? Maybe I should put down roots here with Jamie.

Except, deep down, I know that won't work. Not for the long term.

Over the heads of the shifters surrounding me, I watch Dean carrying my sister away, who’s giggling like a schoolgirl, as he slings her over his shoulder and marches from the field. She doesn't need me to protect her anymore, not like before. She has everything she's ever wanted, and I'm happy for her.

Staying here under Dean, even if he gave me a senior role within his pack, wouldn’t be enough for my wolf. We'll either be an alpha or a rogue. I don't think there's any in between for us.

And I like Dean. The last thing I want is to end up in a fight with my new brother-in-law because my wolf has decided he doesn’t want to take orders from anyone.

With a polite nod, I excuse myself from the group peppering me with questions and drift slowly through the crowd toward where the next round of the Alpha Games is due to begin. Most are just here to watch, but it’s easy to spot the competitors normally standing taller than the rest, expressions serious, nerves starting to take hold.

Packs from all over have sent people to watch. The excitement is tangible. Fresh scents mix in the air as wolves from all territories gather to see who'll be the next alpha. Most came for the spectacle. Some are here hoping to find their mates in the thronging crowds. This is the largest shifter event to be held for years, and it has the feel of a huge celebration. I can’t even imagine what it will be like for the final.

But among the competitors, there are lots of people with points to prove. That they could have been alpha too, if not for their birth order. They long to escape, after living in the shadow of their older siblings for too long, and wish to strike out on their own. For them, this is serious business.

I could respect it if I wasn’t here to dash their dreams and take them for myself.

The stroke of slim fingers down my bicep snaps me out of my trance, and I grab the hand roughly without thinking, my body automatically going on the defensive as my fingers wrap hard around the delicate wrist.

“Oh my, you are a big boy.” The woman standing in front of me purrs as I slowly release my grip and peel her hand off my skin. “I like a bit of danger every now and then,” she adds, holding onto her wrist and rubbing it, staring up at me with a heated look in her wide eyes.

Her friends, a nearby group of she-wolves, stare at us, waiting to see what I’ll do. Instead of giving them a reaction they can gossip about over dinner plates, I ignore her and stare out across the field, trying to figure out what has me so distracted.

Scratching my arm absently to brush away the scent left behind from that unwanted touch, I frown as my wolf brushes up against my insides, getting more and more aggravated. He doesn’t like it. He doesn’t want that female’s scent anywhere near us. His protests are so relentless that I pour some water into the palm of my hand and scrub at the skin just to calm him down.

And then, when I get a faint whiff of her on my skin still, I pick up some grass and scrub it even harder.

“Happy now?” I growl, and then immediately wish I’d said that inside my head when a small boy in front of me jumps and clings to his mother’s skirt. “Sorry,” I mumble, dipping my head to look less intimidating before moving on.

I wind my way through the crowd, looking for Eli and Dash, my housemates for the duration of the competition. Dean let them stay after they gave up their chance to help an injured wolf they found out on the course.

They're good people and don't act weird around me, which is refreshing. Considered long shots because they don’t come from alpha blood, we’ve got something in common. Nobody wants to see them win either. It seems maintaining the status quo and keeping packs within the family is foremost in everyone’s minds.

Or everyone’s except mine, because I can’t seem to focus on anything.

"Quite the fan base you've got already. Do people always just walk up and stroke your muscles?"

I stop dead in my tracks, my wolf going still for the first time in years, as everything around me seems to fade away.

That flirtatious voice. That smooth, honey voice that sends fire licking up my spine is heavenly. I feel like I know it.

My heart rate picks up, and my palms sweat as I turn slowly, knowing already that this, this moment, is going to be pivotal in my life.

Lifting a hand to shield my face from the sun, I lock eyes with the most beautiful she-wolf I've ever seen, with blue eyes the colour of a summer sky. Her dark hair cascades down her back in loose waves, catching the sunlight like silk. Full lips curve into a smile that makes my heart stutter in my chest. She's not petite, standing several inches taller than the average female, with curves that would make any wolf's mouth water.

She’s perfect. And the way she’s staring at me, eyes wide and bottom lip pulled between her teeth as she takes in my thick arms, I hope she thinks the same.

But it's not just her appearance that hits me like a punch to the gut. It's her scent, vanilla and wildflowers, and something deliciously spicy underneath that makes my nostrils flare as I breathe her in.

My wolf rolls over, tongue lolling out the side of his mouth like an over-excited puppy.

That’s what he was so worked up about. He knew she was here.

"I'm sorry about my friends. I hope they didn’t make you uncomfortable." She dips her gaze apologetically, her thick, dark lashes fanning against her cheeks, which are flushed slightly pink now.

When she meets my eyes again, electricity crackles between us, like the calm before a storm. The noise of the crowd fades away, and it’s just us.

She’s all I see.

"They didn't do anything too wrong. Some people are just... fascinated by me. I'm used to it."

They stare, do a double take, but most mean no harm.

“You shouldn’t have to be.” Her eyes blaze, a faint glimmer of anger shining in them. “With so many people around, the scents are so jumbled. It was only when she came back with your scent on her hand…”

She trails off, teeth gritted, and I smile to myself. She’s not happy with her friend for touching me either. It’s not just me that feels like this is something else.

More. Everything.

“I washed it off.” I admit. “My wolf didn’t like it. Hated it, actually.”

That seems to put her at ease, and her features soften again as she takes a step closer. Tilting my head, I try to get a read on her. She's not scared of me, which is a good start, but I don’t want to spook her.

"Your wolf is a smart boy," she praises, and it's my turn to react as her words warm my insides. “But she’s right, you are a big boy.”

Her gaze travels across my shoulders and chest, and she nods, a sexy smile toying with her pretty features.

The teasing lilt in her voice does something primal to me, sending fire through my veins. My wolf presses against the surface of my skin, desperate to get closer to her, but I’m more cautious.

Does she really want me? A rogue? Maybe this flirting is some kind of trap, or a dare.

“Naomi, are you coming?” Her friends call out to her, and when she turns her face away, my nerves pick up.

I don't want her to leave. Not yet. I’m already hooked.

After a shy glance at me, she shakes her head.

“Just give me a minute. I’ll catch up with you.” She ignores their raised eyebrows and teasing winks.

My wolf howls with delight inside me. She’s choosing to stay here. With me.

“Are you feeling confident about today?” I ask, keen to keep her talking just so I can admire her more. There are lots of beautiful women here, and plenty that have made it clear they're here to have some fun with the contestants, but nobody like this.

“Ha. I was until I met you.” Her eyes linger on my arms before she forces them back to my face. “I’m sure they have some pretty nasty tricks up their sleeves for us, but it should be fun. And hopefully, that will give me a shot of sneaking through.”

That it should.

Callum's voice booms out through the microphone, warning everyone to get to their starting places now, because the competition will start on time.

"Shit." Going up on her tiptoes, she scans the crowd, but there are too many wolves and too many scents to pinpoint her friend's location. “They’re gone.”

Her mouth twists as she drops back onto the flats of her feet and frowns.

“Guess you're stuck with me,” I say tentatively, trying to gauge how eager she is to get away. "I’ll look after you.”

The promise is out before I even know what I'm saying. It’s true, but it sounds a bit too intense when we’re still standing in a crowded field.

My wolf spins in circles anxiously inside my head, waiting for her to respond. I feel like punching the air when she nods.

She's only standing beside me, not begging me to mark her, so I need to get a grip on my excitement. But it still feels like a win.

"Okay, that sounds good. But if you're holding me back, I'll cut you loose. I can't have you slowing me down, big boy." She tries to look stern, and I laugh, relieved she’s not making her excuses and running away.

"Ruthless. I like it." A soft rumble vibrates from my chest, catching both of us off-guard, and she grins again, before her cute blush returns.

Fuck, that's so hot.

Outwardly, she looks cute as a button, but she's all alpha-female, and to be underestimated only at your peril. She wouldn't be here if she wasn't tough. It’s a sexy combination.

As I gesture for her to go first, I feel a surge of joy at the prospect of competing together. I'm going to enjoy seeing what she can do.

The other entrants around us surge forward, and we're swept along with the other wolves, all being herded toward the stations dotted around the outskirts of the field.

“Out of the way, rogue.” A big alpha hits me with a shoulder as he barges past with an entourage.

When he mutters something about the stench and how I shouldn’t have been allowed to cross the bridge, the she-wolf at my side looks like she’s about to explode.

“Easy,” I murmur, rumbling again, but soothing this time. He’s not worth it. They never are.

“I’m going to enjoy watching you kick his ass,” she mutters, and I smile, quite liking her vicious side.

As he stalks away, his friends casting superior glances my way, I shake my head. I’ll never understand their unfounded hatred, but I’m used to it now.

“Come on, we better hurry.”

Each competitor has to complete a circuit of the course, finishing each station or challenge to the satisfaction of the judges, before ending the day with a race through the forest.

And this is just the first task of the day. Dean has some kind of decathlon from hell planned for us later.

Alpha wolves jostle each other, attempting to get to the front of the line. Not that it matters. We all have to complete every task, so the order shouldn’t matter. But let them fight and posture all they want. They’re just wasting energy.

I’ll win quietly and live to fight another day.

And so will Naomi. I have no intention of watching her get kicked out when we’ve only just met.

We're each handed a card with a list of tasks to complete on it and then pointed toward a starting line where four others are already waiting. Up ahead, there are piles of sandbags, one pile for each of us, and then a series of obstacles, from cargo nets to rope swings, each with a note pinned to a post at the start.

Damn him. For someone big like me, crawling under nets is a nightmare.

I look over the sidelines where Dean and Callum stand grinning, side by side, and I know this isn't going to be straightforward. When Dean whispers something to Jamie, her eyes widen, and she looks appalled. They're definitely up to something.

Naomi puts her toe on the line beside me and follows my gaze to Dean. My wolf bristles, not liking her attention anywhere but on us.

"I've heard he's got some surprises planned. Don't suppose he's given you any tips?" my gorgeous she-wolf asks, leaning her body closer to me and letting me draw in a big lungful of her scent.

"No. He's been too busy banging my sister," I mutter grumpily, regretting the words as soon as they're out. Maybe that was too coarse for a classy she-wolf like this.

But I needn't have worried. The gorgeous brunette beside me laughs and shakes her head, eyes twinkling with mischief. "Ew. I'm sorry I asked."

Happy she doesn't seem excited by Dean, my wolf relaxes again and refocuses on the job at hand. Show off and impress our mate. Win a pack. Secure a new home. Become an alpha, so everybody knows I'm not a bad guy.

And for the first time, he adds new goals to the list. Impress this she-wolf. Find a luna. Things I never thought were on the cards for me until now.

"Good luck," I say, genuinely hoping this goes well for her. Not just because I want the chance to spend more time with her, which I do, but because she's been nice to me when nobody else has. And that speaks to her character. She'd make a good leader.

"Naomi," she says formally, sticking out a hand for me to shake. "And good luck to you, too."

"Wyatt," I reply, rolling her name around in my head and deciding I like it. It suits her.

"I know, everyone’s talking about you," she says shyly. "But you're forever more known as Big Boy to me."

A genuine laugh bursts from me as I reach over and wrap my fingers around hers, and I get curious stares from those around me who have been keeping their distance until now.

When my hand touches hers, tingles shoot up my arm, and we both freeze, eyes wide and hearts racing.

"Was that...?" she mumbles, extending her fingers in front of her and looking as shell-shocked as I feel.

Tales about the tingles fated mates get when they touch are passed on from generation to generation, but to experience it is truly magical.

I stand up straight, momentarily stunned, and flex my hand. The ghosts of electricity that danced across my skin still linger.

"The first five competitors to complete the course advance to the next round,” Callum’s voice is loud, but it barely registers with me as I turn my hand over and stare. "Ready, steady, go!"

A pistol goes off, and everyone else charges away from the starting line, including Naomi. But my feet are still rooted to the ground, my body too stunned to move.

It can’t be. But… those tingles.

It wasn’t my imagination. She really is mine.

When I don't run, and she notices I'm not at her side, she twists, slowing down to shout back over her shoulder. "Wyatt, what are you doing? Come on!"

My eyes flash to hers at the use of my name, and the snap of power from her command crackles over me, waking me up from my trance.

This woman was born to be a Luna, alright. My Luna.

She waves frantically at me to follow her, still only jogging instead of bolting away like she should be. Naomi can't afford to waste time. She's not as powerfully built as the males, so speed will be her key advantage.

“What the fuck are you helping him for? Let the dumb fuck stand there and lose if he wants,” another male hisses, hitting me a hard shoulder as he runs past, and I make a note of his race number. I won’t forget how he spoke to my mate.

But that’s for dealing with later. Now, I have more important things to focus on. My mate.

"Naomi, what are you doing? For fuck’s sake, RUN!"

An angry shout from the crowds catches my attention. A tall man in a tailored suit glares at her in rage-filled disbelief, pointing toward the end line. He throws his hands up in exasperation, his face turning puce with pent-up fury.

A glimmer of recognition tickles the back of my mind. I’ve met this guy before. Years ago. It’s there but won’t come to me. If I could pick out his scent among the hundreds of others, I’d know.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me. Move your ass," he yells, and my wolf’s hackles go up. Yeah, we’ve definitely crossed paths before.

Naomi’s features pinch in a mixture of discomfort and embarrassment at being spoken to like that so publicly, and I’m furious on her behalf.

This man has no idea how perilously close to danger he is right now. His disrespectful tone makes me want to charge straight over there and ring his neck. I take a tiny step toward him, but my sensitive hearing picks up Naomi's plaintive ‘no,’ and I whip my head toward where she stands, her eyes pleading with me to leave it.

“Please don’t.”

Awareness of my surroundings kicks back in, and with all the crowd's attention on me, including the alphas judging this competition, I decide now is not the time or place.

I have a pack to win. And I'm going to fucking do it because that goddess is going to be my Luna.

And then that guy, whoever the fuck he is, is going to find out what happens when you’re rude to my mate.