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Wyatt

" W AIT!" Jax shouts, and every head turns toward us, a stunned silence falling over the gathered crowd.

The next moments blur together.

Naomi ran toward us, her face drained of colour. The weight of my body nearly toppled Jax as my knees gave out. Naomi sliding under my arm, taking some of the load, the contact sending a jolt of energy through our bond that briefly clears my head.

Through the haze of poison and pain, I see her face, pale and drawn, her blue eyes blazing as she takes my weight. The moment her skin touches mine, the mate bond sends a surge of warmth through my veins that temporarily pushes back the darkness threatening to engulf me.

The world comes into sharper focus, allowing me to take in the scene around us, the competitors frozen in various stages of pre-race preparation; the alphas gathered at the front with expressions of concern; the spectators whispering behind their hands.

"Wolfsbane," Jax is saying, his voice tight with barely suppressed rage. Some competitors take a step back, his reputation as being unhinged, making them wary.

"He needs medicine," Naomi insists, and I want to reassure her, but my tongue feels too thick to form words properly.

"Naomi," I mumble, her name the only thing that’s clear in my mind.

"I'm here," she says, and the steadiness in her voice belies the fear I can smell rolling off her. "I've got you. You're going to be okay."

I want to believe her, but the poison is still burning through me, fighting against whatever remedy Jax administered, and I can feel myself slipping again.

No. Not yet. Not when Brad is right there, watching with those calculating eyes.

"Maggie's special blend. She says it counters the wolfsbane long enough for your own healing to kick in," Jax mutters.

The liquid burns like fire going down. My stomach revolts, but I force it down, knowing it's my only chance.

I grab the flask from Jax and take another long swig, letting the contents slide down my throat without gagging.

Jax stares at me like I’ve got two heads. “That’s too much. I don’t know what that’ll do to you.”

With enormous effort, I lift my head, focusing on Dean and Blake, who've approached with expressions of grim concern.

"He needs medical attention," Dean says, already turning to issue orders. “Jax, bring him to the clinic. I’ll come and see you both after the challenge.”

He gestures for Callum to continue on; the whistle rising to his lips, eyes wide, as he stares at the scene unfolding before him.

"No," I rasp, the word coming out stronger than I’d expected. "I'm competing."

A ripple of disbelief passes through the crowd. Even Naomi tenses beside me, her grip on my waist tightening.

The crowd's reaction tells me everything I need to know about how I must look, shock, disbelief, pity. Even some men who've been trying to get rid of me since day one seem concerned, including Ryan.

But I don't care what they think. I've dragged myself through worse, survived on less, kept going when things seemed bleaker.

This is no different.

"Wyatt," she begins, her voice low. "You can't… not like this."

"I can," I interrupt, forcing myself to stand straighter despite the agony it causes. "And I will."

Dean studies me, his expression unreadable. "You're in no condition to run," he says flatly.

"Then I'll crawl," I counter, meeting his gaze steadily. "But I'm not forfeiting."

A tense silence falls. I can feel the weight of everyone's stares, hear the whispers circulating. The rogue has lost it. He's delirious. He can't possibly compete.

But I see something else, too. The flash of fear in Brad's eyes when he realizes I'm not as dead as he'd planned. The way his gaze darts between me and Naomi, calculation and rage warring in his expression, he obviously wanted me out of the way, for this event, specifically.

Brad stands among the other alphas, but unlike them, whose concern seems genuine, his expression cycles through a series of emotions too quickly to mask—shock, fear and anger. He didn't expect me to be standing here. He expected me to be dead in the forest, my body not discovered until after this challenge was complete. And now, he's recalculating, trying to salvage whatever plan he set in motion when he drove that knife into my back.

“He can’t compete in this state.” Brad insists, looking around him for support.

I'm not about to give him what he wants.

A male shifter, Kain I think, standing off to the side, silently observing with arms folded across his chest, shrugs. “If he wants to compete, let him. He’s a grown man, if it kills him, it’s his own damn fault.”

Unlike the others, there's no malice in his assessment, just a simple acknowledgment of my right to make my own choices. Foolish though they may seem.

There are nods among the gathered crowd. They agree, eager to see if I can pull this off.

"This is ridiculous," Jax mutters beside me. "They’ll catch you and finish the job."

"Not today," I tell him, my voice low enough that only he can hear. “Not while Naomi’s still out there. It’s a hunt, Jax. And she’s unmarked.”

The implications hit Jax like a physical blow. His eyes widen, then narrow dangerously, flashing amber as his wolf surges forward. "The bastard," he breathes, barely audible.

I nod, the motion sending fresh waves of pain down my spine. "If I'm not there to protect her, to claim her..."

"Then he can do it during the hunt and call it part of the challenge," Jax finishes, understanding dawning in his eyes as he helps me get to my feet.

“Take your places on the starting line,” Callum shouts, reluctantly getting the show back on the road.

With painstaking effort, I straighten to my full height, ignoring the way the world tilts and sways around me. The bandage Jax applied pulls against the wound, the ointment burning like fire against my skin, but it's working, helping my wolf fight back against the poison.

I'm nowhere near full strength, but I'm alive, and I'm standing.

For now, that has to be enough.

The forest ahead blurs and refocuses as I concentrate, the trees seeming to sway slightly even though the air is still. My body feels distant, disconnected, dragged along by sheer will. But beneath the physical agony, my wolf is growling, pushing forward, ready to fight, not just for survival but for what is rightfully ours.

"You understand that there will be no special accommodations," Blake says, his tone making it clear this is my last chance to back out. "No allowances for your... condition. This is an anything goes challenge. It could be dangerous."

I nod once. "I understand."

Another pause, then Callum shouts, "On your marks, people."

Relief washes through me, though I'm careful not to show it. Jax shoves me toward the line, muttering dire predictions about my imminent death the entire way. I ignore him, focusing instead on Brad, who has moved to confer urgently with another alpha, his composure finally cracking.

Brad has made his way over to Ryan Williams, grabbing the younger wolf's arm insistently. Whatever Brad is saying, Ryan wants no part of. His expression is one of clear disgust as he jerks his arm away and growls something I can't quite hear. Even Ryan, who's made no secret of wanting me gone, seems to have drawn a line at attempted murder.

When Ryan shakes off his hold, Brad runs a hand back through his hair anxiously. Good. Let him squirm.

The other competitors give me a wide berth as I take my place on the starting line. Some look afraid, others suspicious, as if my presence here is some kind of trick. Eli and Dash nod at me from further down the line, their expressions a mix of confusion and concern.

“Just for the record, I think you should tell Dean.”

I shake my head. Right now, I don’t have enough proof. It’s my word against his. And I want to deal with Brad myself, when I’m strong enough to face him head on.

As Jax steps away, Naomi moves to my side, her face still pale with fear.

"What are you doing?" she whispers fiercely. "You can barely stand."

"I know what he wants, Naomi. The pack and you. But he’s not getting either."

Her eyes widen slightly, and her face turns pale.

"Think about it," I continue, each word an effort through the pain. "A competition where alphas literally hunt you through the forest? Where anything goes? Where the marking of a female in the heat of the moment could be explained?"

Understanding dawns in her eyes, followed by horror and then fury. "The necklace, the public displays..." she whispers, connecting the dots. "He's been setting this up all along, in case I didn’t agree."

I grimace as I take a deep breath, each inhale pulling apart the wound as quickly as my wolf can heal it.

“He knows you’re not going to mate him willingly, not when you’ve met your fated mate. So he’s using this challenge as cover to do it.”

Naomi stares up at me, wide-eyed.

“Do not let him get anywhere near you. No matter what happens. Whatever he says. Whatever happens to me.”

Naomi nods.

“Say it. Promise me.”

“I promise.” She's shaking with anger now, her wolf pushing closer to the surface, eyes flashing with golden fire. "I promise. But Wyatt..." she hesitates, glancing around before leaning closer. "If anything happens to you, if he tries to hurt you again..."

"Focus on yourself," I interrupt, knowing exactly where her thoughts are heading. "I’ll be fine."

I grab her shoulders and kiss her, hard and desperate, not caring who sees. The touch of her lips sends a jolt of energy through me, like a shot of pure adrenaline straight into my heart. For a moment, the pain recedes, the poison's fog clears, and I am simply a man kissing the woman he loves before going into battle.

The whispers around us rise to a crescendo. The competitors, the spectators, even the alphas can't miss the significance of that kiss.

“READY.” Callum shouts, drawing us back to this stark reality, and we turn to face the trees.

Naomi reaches out, her fingers tangling with mine. The contact sends a surge of energy through the mate bond, a flash of warmth that temporarily pushes back the fog threatening to engulf me.

"Don't die out there," she whispers, and beneath the command, I hear the fear, the concern, the other words she can't say with so many ears listening.

I brush my hand against hers. A ghost of a touch meant to reassure. "Not planning on it."

Her expression remains troubled, but she nods, stepping into position.

“STEADY.”

The competitors spread out, muscles tensing, eyes fixed on the forest ahead. I focus on my breathing, on staying upright and the steady thrum of the mate bond anchoring me to consciousness. The wound in my back pulses with each heartbeat, alternating waves of fire and ice as the wolfsbane battles with Jax's remedy and my own healing abilities.

Under normal circumstances, I'd feel at home here. These woods are like the ones I've lived in for years. But today, with poison flowing through my veins and enemies on all sides, the shadowed undergrowth holds as much danger as sanctuary.

Every breath sends a fresh wave of pain through me, but I use it, let it sharpen my focus rather than dull it. Pain means I'm alive. And as long as I'm alive, I can protect my mate.

Blake raises a hand, the signal that we're about to begin.

"Let's go win our pack," I murmur to Naomi, and despite everything; the pain, the poison, the uncertainty, I mean it.

Whatever happens in that forest, whatever Brad has planned, one thing is certain. I'm not letting him take what's mine. Not the pack. Not the competition.

And definitely not my mate. Even if it kills me.