Page 15

15

Naomi

T he halls hum with quiet conversation, and silverware clinks against plates as the remaining competitors gather for a civilised dinner.

The numbers are thinning with every round, and only the real contenders remain at this point. We’ve dwindled sufficiently that we can all fit inside the packhouse dining hall once more, so we’re having our first sit down meal of the competition. At least, the first for anyone who could skip the first round because of alpha lineage.

That means it’s Wyatt’s second, but I’m confident he enjoyed the first one about as much as he’s enjoying this. Which is not at all.

The tension in the air is thick. The friendly small talk and camaraderie feel forced.

All the people in this room want to win. The pressure they’re under, whether it’s from themselves or their families, is intense. The games have been gruelling, dragging on over multiple days and testing everyone's patience.

Like every aspect of our experience so far, I’m sure it’s part of Dean’s plan. Tempers are fraying, and even the seemingly best-behaved wolves’ true colours are showing as everyone’s patience wears thin.

There’s no masking who you really are when you’re being watched all the time for days on end in a high-pressure situation like this.

Ryan Williams snaps at a server, not even attempting to hide what an asshole he is, and Dean growls from the head of the table, reminding everyone that he’s always watching, and that he won’t tolerate his pack being disrespected.

Afraid of attracting any unnecessary attention, I keep my head down and focus on the food I’m not really eating, hoping no one notices the tightness in my posture, or my lack of appetite. I just want to be left alone.

But of course, he doesn’t give a shit what I want.

Without asking if it is taken, Brad slides into the empty seat beside me, his broad shoulder brushing mine as he leans too close and rests his hand on my arm.

My stomach churns at the contact, my wolf wanting to put him in his place for touching a female that’s not his, but I force my expression into something resembling a polite smile.

Whatever happens, I cannot publicly disrespect him. Not here, surrounded by alphas and future leaders who will all side with him if it comes down to it. Especially when they don’t understand why his touch repulses me so much. They don’t know I have a mate, and they don’t know what a vile person Brad is.

“Naomi.” His voice is charming and practiced, but there’s a sharpness underneath, a warning not to act up. “I stopped by your room to congratulate you on getting through and couldn’t help but notice you were… occupied. I heard about the unpleasantness at the showers with the rogue. You have such a kind heart, but you don’t need to fight other people's battles.”

I swallow hard, fingers curling around my fork. “Sticking up for Wyatt wasn’t unpleasant. He’s my friend. It was the right thing to do.”

“Of course, of course.” Brad’s smile becomes brittle, not happy about being corrected.

I keep my voice even, and low enough that only he can hear. “Ryan was trying to stir up trouble, but it was all too public. If they fought Wyatt there, Steel and Reynolds would be sure to hear of it, and Wyatt would be out. Then I’m screwed.”

My skin crawls at the deception. I shouldn’t have to lie about Wyatt. It makes me feel gross to even pretend I’d ever use him like that to advance.

“Ah.” Brad hums thoughtfully, the penny dropping far too slowly for a sitting alpha. “So, you’re agreeing to using him, then? Smart girl.”

Feeling like a piece of shit, I don’t correct him. Just let him think I’m manipulating Wyatt and need him to get ahead. I don’t care what he thinks as long as it keeps him off Wyatt’s back.

From across the room, I can feel Wyatt’s gaze, the weight of it like a hand on my spine. I lean forward to pour a drink that I don’t want so that Brad’s falls away. He twists in his seat to look at me, but I stare forward, ignoring him, hating how he’s blocking me from the rest of the room and invading my personal space.

In and out, in and out. I focus on my breathing to stay calm.

Wyatt’s sitting with Jamie, whose expression is tight as she watches Brad drape himself across my chair and play with the ends of my hair. I scoop it up into a messy bun and lean away from my alpha, desperate to distance myself from him.

Jamie probably hates me. If Wyatt has told her anything about us, even just that we have a crush on each other, she must be looking at me now, thinking I’m an absolute bitch.

As my heart rate picks up and panic takes hold, I force myself not to look at them anymore. If I meet Wyatt’s eyes, I’ll break.

Brad shifts, and his hand suddenly appears in front of my face, a small velvet pouch dangling from his fingers. “For you,” he says, loud enough for nearby tables to hear. “Just a token of my… appreciation.”

The tiny bag swings back and forth, and I hesitate much too long to be considered polite.

I want to refuse. Every instinct inside me screams to shove it back at him, to stand up and walk away. But I can feel the room watching, waiting to see if I’ll accept his public declaration of affection. My options are to accept it or embarrass my alpha in front of his peers, which doesn’t seem like a good idea, either.

If I do anything to embarrass him, he’ll retaliate. And Maddie will probably pay the price.

So I smile, small and tight, and tentatively accept the gift. My fingers brush the velvet, and the weight of the room’s attention settles on my shoulders like a mantle.

“Thank you,” I say meekly, the words like ash in my mouth. “You shouldn’t have.”

My wolf wants to destroy it, but ignorant of how much I despise him, Brad smiles triumphantly.

“Always so gracious. But you know I like to spoil.”

It’s a performance, every second. To anyone watching, it looks like I’m accepting his favor. Like I’m his. And that’s exactly the message he wants to send.

Beside Wyatt, Jamie’s expression twists with anger, her hands curling into fists on the table. She knows. She must know about the mating. But she’s also too smart to say anything that will expose Wyatt’s connection to me, and she can’t risk causing a scene at her mate’s event.

I’ve trapped all of us in this careful, awful lie.

Brad leans closer again, his lips almost brushing my ear as he lowers his voice. “It’s good to know you understand how this works, Naomi. You’re a smart girl. Keep it up, and everyone will get what they want. Including Maddie.”

I want to scream. To shift, to sink my teeth into his throat and end this game, once and for all. But I can’t. So I smile again and hope my hands aren’t shaking too badly.

Brad snarls as someone knocks into his chair, causing him to straighten and thankfully take his hot breath away from the side of my face.

“Apologies,” Kain says with a polite dip of his head as he passes, but his smile suggests he’s not one bit sorry. Brad looks like he wants to say something, his face red with anger, but Kain is already gone, melting into the crowds mingling and chatting.

While Brad seethes and focuses on regaining his composure, the conversation around us resumes, but my skin is still crawling. I feel dirty, like his touch has left a stain I can’t scrub off. I want to leave immediately, but that would only make things worse. And he might follow me. People might assume we’ve gone to bed together.

Right here and now, I decide. There is absolutely no way I’m letting this man ruin what I have with Wyatt. And there's no way I’ll pretend to be his mate just so he can get his grubby paws on more land.

He’ll kill me as soon as the dust settles, and everyone else has moved on.

Brad leaves with a smug grin on his face.

“Are you not going to open it?” Amy is practically drooling, staring at the retreating alpha, like he’s good enough to eat. She tips her head toward the velvet pouch still resting in my palm. I have no interest in seeing what’s inside, but apparently, everyone else does.

“Eh…” Everyone at the table stares at me as I open the drawstring and tip the contents onto the table. A necklace. Gold and delicate, with a stone cradled in a crescent moon with a gold setting.

“Ooohhh, he has good taste.” She purrs, picking it up to admire it.

I feel like telling her she can keep it, but it would be the ultimate disrespect. Instead, I hold the pouch open, and she reluctantly drops it inside. I don’t even want to touch it, let alone wear it.

I glance toward Wyatt, but he’s staring at his plate, frozen, his knuckles white around the knife in his hand. My gut twists. His hurt, anger, and jealousy nags at my insides. Even though we’re not marked, I can feel him and how painful that was for him. How betrayed he feels. Again.

I’m going to find him in the morning and tell him everything. We’ll come up with a plan if he’s still talking to me. Even if it means storming Brad’s house and dragging Maddie away from that place in the dead of night.

As plates are cleared and coffee is poured, Lynn, Dean’s pack manager, wanders to the top table and pauses near Dean, speaking quietly.

“No Jax?” Lynn asks casually, her tone pleasant but curious as she looks pointedly at the empty seat at the end of the table.

Dean shakes his head, exhaling an inaudible sigh. “His wolf’s struggling. Too much competitive energy in the air, and you know how he gets. He’s been staying inside during waking hours.”

I’ve heard rumours about Wyatt’s step-brother. That his wolf is out of control after years of beatings at his father’s hands. More of an attack first, ask questions later kind of animal. It can’t be easy for him being around all these wolves if he struggles with other dominant shifters.

“Poor kid.” Lynn clicks her tongue sympathetically. “He’s missing out. He could have won this thing.”

“That’s the last thing he’d want,” Dean says, shaking his head. “How do you run a pack if you can’t handle dinner?”

Lynn spots me watching and gives me a small smile. She seems nice. Kind. Maybe if I told her about Brad, she’d convince Dean and Blake to take me seriously. She saw him at the last round, and she picked up how uncomfortable he made me.

With a wave, she hurries off. I don’t think I’ve seen her stand still for more than five minutes. She’s always rushing around, sorting everything out. Maybe she could sort me out, too.

My focus returns to the gift bag in my hand. Its real weight is the message: You belong to me, and everyone here knows it now.

But I don’t. And I won’t. Ever. Not even for Maddie.

My sister stood up to her abuser. The last thing she’d want is for me to lie down and take Brad’s shit, and she certainly wouldn’t want me to tie myself to him.

My eyes drift to my mate, who’s sitting stock still. A jolt of electricity passes through me at the intensity of his stare, and the heat in those eyes; it’s a dangerous mixture of anger and lust. The bond pulls at me, urging me to go to him, to let him in.

I get to my feet, the need to speak to him too strong to ignore, just as Wyatt stands abruptly, his chair scraping back on the wooden floor. Jamie reaches for his arm, her mouth moving too fast for me to read her lips, but whatever she’s saying isn’t calming him down.

He’s barely holding it together.

Every second he has to sit there pretending we’re nothing to each other is shredding him from the inside out. Seeing me accept a gift from another wolf was the final straw, it appears.

As he hurries away, I chase after him.

“Wyatt,” I call, as I make my way through the crowd, attempting to head him off as he storms toward the exit.

Hearing his name on my lips, Wyatt turns, his wolf flashing in his eyes, burning gold under the lights.

I catch up and stop in front of him, only a foot away, but feeling a mile apart.

“That wasn’t what it looked like,” I whisper. “I didn’t want to take it, but what was I supposed to do?”

Wyatt stares past me, eyes blazing and fists clenched hard at his sides. The tendons in his neck bulge so far out that they look like they’re going to burst through his skin.

“I need to leave, Naomi. Right now. Don’t stop me.” Spoken through gritted teeth, his words are angry, and his tone harsh.

When I say nothing, not trusting my voice to stay strong as my world crumbles before me, Wyatt dips his head down next to mine, speaking so quietly, nobody else can hear.

“Because if I don’t get the fuck out of here immediately, I’ll claim you right here, in front of everyone who dares to look at you and wish you were theirs, including your joke of an alpha, who’s lucky he still has an arm after that stunt he just pulled.”

My breath catches as my insides coil tightly, and my panties dampen with lust.

Wyatt’s eyes fall shut as he picks up the faint scent of my arousal. “Naomi, unless you want me to fuck you right here, right now, you better run.”

Our eyes lock, and for a split second, I contemplate it.

But I definitely don’t run. And I’m still thinking about it when Wyatt grabs me and spins us so my back is to his front. Marching down the hallway, he crowds me, forcing me to keep walking.

“Wyatt?” My heart is pounding as we move away from the party and deeper into the house. As we pass the bathroom, he all but shoves me inside, slamming the door closed behind us.

“Wyatt?” I repeat, now wondering if I should have listened to him, because the way he’s looking at me with hunger shining in his eyes tells me there’s only one thing on his mind.

Me.

“I told you to run,” he mumbles, stepping into my personal space, eyes fixed on my neck as he brushes a strand of hair over my shoulder, exposing where my mark will go to his eager gaze.

I can’t breathe. I can’t speak. I can barely think as I watch Wyatt ease closer, dipping his head and using his thumb to turn my chin away and give him even better access.

“Right here,” he whispers as he presses a gentle kiss to my sensitive skin, declaring the spot above my clavicle as his. That tender touch is at odds with how he presses himself against me, pinning me against the wall, using one knee to part my legs, and his thigh to rub against my needy clit.

His lips and mouth lavish attention on my neck, sending shivers of pleasure through my tortured body as I shamelessly rub myself against his thick, muscly leg, needing the friction to ease the ache inside me.

He runs rough kisses up my jaw before claiming my mouth like I imagine he’ll claim me, strong, demanding, and without hesitation. I moan as his tongue tangles with mine, dominating me, melting me into the submissive mate I never thought I’d be.

He could ask me for anything right now, and I’d give it to him.

My hand reaches down between us and strokes the enormous erection pressing into my hip. I’m stroking him through his trousers, hard and desperate for him, before I even realise what I’m doing.

“You’re killing me,” he groans, and I know he doesn’t just mean now. He means outside this room, by not mating and marking him. By not letting him help me.

“Fuck me,” I whisper, my voice coming out in a breathy whine. “I want you, Wyatt. I need you.”

It’s a terrible idea. I don’t trust myself to keep my teeth to myself, let alone expect Wyatt to, but my body is ready to get reckless.

Wyatt curses, resting his forearm against the wall above my head and slamming his clenched fist against it hard.

“What are you doing to me?” he mutters to himself.

Again, I ignore the double meaning and rub my breasts against him, my hands sliding under this thin T-shirt and running over every delicious bump and dip of his abs, loving the fire I feel burning under his skin.

“Please,” I whisper, my need for him making me shameless.

Without warning, Wyatt yanks my hands away, and holding both of my wrists in one hand, pins them above my head where he has me trapped right beside the door.

“No.”

One simple word, but it breaks my heart. I want him to claim me. I want everyone to know I’m lucky enough to be his. And a selfish part of me wants Wyatt to rip Brad’s fucking head off, even if it means we’ll both be out of the competition with no home to go to and a whole load of trouble coming our way.

“Not like this,” he says, returning his lips to mine, nipping my lower lip and growling when I whimper with need. My core tightness, quivering, needing him to fill me.

Then Wyatt’s hand moves, slowly at first, grazing over my hip, one finger tracing an agonisingly slow path along the top of my trousers toward the sensitive skin on my belly.

I look up and lock eyes with my mate, his wolf shining brightly, but Wyatt clearly running the show. He waits, his expression frustratingly calm while I combust with need.

“Please Wyatt,” I beg.

With a tiny nod, his hand slips inside my trousers, tickling my bare flesh as he travels lower and swipes one finger through my dripping entrance.

“Fuck,” he groans. “I can’t wait to feel you around me.” His deep, sexy voice against my ear makes me squirm. It’s not enough. I’m about to demand more, no longer ashamed of asking for what I want. When he presses one thick finger inside me, and I raise up on my tiptoes, the sensations completely overwhelming.

Tingles explode inside me, and I gasp, digging my nails into the backs of his hands, where he still has them trapped over my head.

“So wet for me,” he says with smug satisfaction as he drives his finger out and in, then adds a second finger to stretch me even further. I’m a moaning, writhing mess when he uses his thumb to brush back and forth across my clit, turning my legs to jelly.

“Wyatt…” I whimper, panting hard into his neck as my toes curl and heat pools low in my belly. “I’m going to… I’m so close…”

I close my eyes, shaking my head against the power of what’s coming.

“Wyatt,” I cry out, and then clamp my mouth shut when I hear voices in the corridor outside.

“Shh, baby.” Wyatt clamps his lips down on mine, and I mewl and moan against his mouth as the pressure inside me builds to a crescendo.

Someone rattles the door handle, and Wyatt kicks out his heel, blocking the door from opening.

Wyatt’s fingers move faster, rubbing my swollen clit and stroking my sensitive insides, pressing against every electric nerve within me.

“Fuck off,” he shouts when someone tries the door again, his considerable power making me bear down on his fingers, filling the tiny room with his dangerous aura.

“Wyatt,” I moan against him, arching my back further, giving him all the access he needs.

I can’t stop. Couldn’t even if I wanted to.

Let them listen. Let them realise what’s going on in here. I’m too far gone, too delirious with pleasure to care.

After some grumbling, the footsteps retreat.

“Relax, they’re gone,” Wyatt whispers against my ear, and I whimper, lost to him. “Come for me, mate.”

Mate.

That one word throws me over the edge.

My emotions swell, building inside me, and pushing me up and over the crest of my orgasm. I cry out, tumbling over the far side, clinging to Wyatt as he bundles me up, smoothing my hair back and kissing my forehead tenderly as wave after wave of pleasure washes over me.

Blinking up at him, too stunned to speak, I let him lift me carefully by the waist, like I weigh nothing at all, and set me on the counter.

Without looking away, he brings his fingers to his lips, still shiny with my juices, and sucks them clean.

“Oh god,” I mumble, scarcely believing he just did that. When his eyes fall closed, and a throaty groan vibrates through him, my insides clench again. That was so fucking hot.

Wyatt leans in close, stretching past me in the small space to wash his hands with an unhappy frown on his handsome face.

“What’s wrong?” Self-doubt creeps up inside me. I haven’t pleased him yet. Maybe that’s what he’s disappointed about. Dropping my hand, I run one finger up the length of his considerable erection through his trousers.

Wyatt growls, deep and dangerous, before straightening and grabbing my hands away once more.

“If you touch me again, I won’t be able to control myself.”

Confused, I pout. “But you… I haven’t…”

Realisation flashes across Wyatt’s face, and he cups my cheeks in his giant hands. “I’m upset at washing your scent off me. If I had it my way, I’d bury my face between your thighs and walk straight back into that fucking party.”

More clenching. More needy moans from me. More clenching of teeth from Wyatt.

“And I didn’t make you come because I expected something in return. I did it because I needed to please my mate. To show her we can do things no other male can.”

The possessiveness and jealousy are clear in his words, and in the way his wolf shines through his eyes.

“Well, I’m impressed, if that helps,” I say shyly.

Wyatt kisses me hard, and dips his head to suck and nibble my earlobe.

“You haven’t seen anything yet.”