Page 24

24

Wyatt

I hold his stare, my pulse pounding. My wolf is fighting to be let out, clawing at the edges of my skin, my instincts screaming to end him.

I force my voice to stay even. “Whatever you think you’re planning with Naomi, it ends now.” The urge to stake my claim is strong, but there’s more going on than I know.

Brad chuckles, shaking his head. “You really think you have a say in that?”

I don’t answer.

His smirk turns cruel. “Let me make this simple for you, rogue. You might even be her mate.” He spits the word like it’s a slur. “But you don’t belong here. A no-rank mutt with nothing to offer her?”

I stiffen. That’s not what Naomi thinks, I know that, but his words sting, hitting close to the bone. Years of hearing the same thing, over and over, chips away at your confidence.

"You have no idea what she needs," I growl. The words rumble from deep in my chest, vibrating in the air between us. "You've never actually seen her, not the real Naomi. You just see what you can use."

Brad's eyes narrow, but that practiced smile never wavers. "And you think you know her after what… a few days of playing challenge buddies? I've watched her for months. I know exactly who she is and what drives her."

“She might enjoy her bit of fun…” he sucks in a long inhale, and I want to rip his face off rather than let him breathe in Naomi’s scent, even if it is mingled with my own. “But she has other priorities. I mean, you’re not marked yet. Why do you think that is?”

He doesn’t know for certain; I remind myself. He might be fishing for information, but he doesn’t know for sure that she’s mine. If I confirm as much, she becomes a target for anyone who wants to get at me.

“She’s just using you to get through. She knows you’re so desperate to believe she’ll go through with the mating, that you’ll do anything for her, including let her win.”

"You're wrong," I say, my voice dangerously calm. "And you're scared. I can smell it on you."

The flicker of uncertainty in his eyes tells me I've hit a nerve. For all his posturing, Brad knows he's losing control of the situation. Maddie's escape, Naomi's resistance, my unexpected appearance in the Games. None of it was part of his plan.

I shake my head. "I'm done talking to you."

I turn to leave, sick of looking at his smug face, my wolf ready to snap his neck just to shut him up. That would be hard to explain, though, so getting away from him is the best course of action.

“She’s going to be mine, mutt. That glorious wolf. The extended packs. That body.”

That’s it.

I growl, ready to round on him, but agony explodes through my back.

Choking on my breath, a sharp, searing pain lances through my body, straight down to the bone as I spin, enraged. I stagger forward, trying to lunge for him, but my legs almost give out as fire spreads from the wound, eating through my veins like acid.

As Brad watches on, stepping back out of reach, I stretch one hand behind me instinctively. My fingers brush the hilt of a knife buried deep between my shoulder blades, right where I felt that strange burning sensation earlier. The smell of sizzling skin fills my nostrils as the weapon's coating reacts with my blood. I keep my hand wrapped around it despite the searing pain, refusing to show weakness.

A silver knife.

Pulling it out with a roar, I raise it in front of me, and one sniff confirms what I thought. It’s a knife dipped in wolfsbane.

The blade gleams wickedly in the morning light, its edge coated with a greenish substance that bubbles where it meets my blood. My vision waivers as the poison enters my system, but I fight to stay upright, to keep my eyes fixed on Brad's face.

He didn't stab me himself, he wouldn't risk getting his hands dirty. But the satisfaction in his eyes tells me this was his plan all along. The confrontation on the path was just to keep me distracted while someone else approached from behind.

Brad steps back, wide-eyed, watching and waiting to see the poison take effect.

“I’m not letting you steal this from me,” he says, voice eerily calm, his expression stone cold.

"You won't be taking what's mine," he says, voice eerily calm as he adjusts his cuffs. "Neither the pack nor the girl. A shame, really. You might have made a decent enforcer if you knew your place."

When I drop to my knees, sinking into the soft earth, a victorious smile tugs the corner of his thin lips.

Then he walks away. Just walks away, like he didn’t just stab me.

My vision blurs as I watch him casually stroll back toward the packhouse. He pulls out his phone and makes a call, speaking too quietly for me to hear over the buzzing in my ears. But the cold efficiency of his movements tells me everything I need to know. This was planned, calculated. And now, he's moving on to the next phase while I bleed out in the dirt.

He expects me to die right here, bleeding out in the dirt, and he wants to be nowhere near me when it happens. The next round of the competition is about to start on the other side of the territory. After last night, nobody will come out here looking for me.

When I don’t turn up, they might think I’ve run away or been kicked out.

I reach for the mate bond, trying to send a warning to Naomi. But the connection feels muted, like trying to shout underwater. The wolfsbane is interfering with more than just my healing, it's dampening my bond with my mate.

I drop forward onto my elbows, gasping as the poison burns through me, my vision tilting. The world is slipping sideways, my breath coming in ragged bursts, the metallic taste of blood thick on my tongue.

My wolf howls, wanting to heal me, but the wolfsbane hampers my supernatural powers. It’s choking him, suffocating my instincts, and dulling my senses.

No. I’m not going out like this. I’m not letting him get his filthy paws on my mate.

I claw at the ground, digging my fingers into the cold, damp soil, forcing my body to hold on.

"Naomi," I rasp, her name a prayer on my lips. The thought of her in Brad's clutches, manipulated and controlled, fuels a rage that burns even hotter than the poison.

The knife lies beside me, its silver blade now slick with my blood. I wrap my fingers around it, evidence that might save us both if I can just stay alive long enough to show it to Dean.

But I’m losing the fight. Losing control.

I attempt to push to my feet, but my limbs won’t listen. My muscles lock up, and I fall into the dirt once more, my face pressing into broken leaves and twigs. The earthy scent of the forest mingles with blood, lots of blood, filling my nose.

The forest grows silent. Even the birds have stopped their morning songs. The edge of the clearing where Brad ambushed me is barely visible now, the trees swimming in and out of focus as the poison takes hold.

Jamie... I need to reach her. If I die here, Brad wins. Naomi will never know what happened to me. She'll think I abandoned her, just like everyone else in her life.

With the last of my strength, I reach for our sibling bond, praying she'll sense my distress before it's too late.

“Naomi,” I mutter, rolling onto my back, shouting in pain as my weight presses down on the gaping wound in my back.

My fingers claw at the ground beneath me, the only part of my body that I seem to be able to move now, as I blink up at the sky and stare as it slowly changes from bright blue to grey to black.