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33

Naomi

“ H ave it your way." Brad steps back as his shift overtakes him.

I stand on shaking paws beside my mate and summon every ounce of courage I have.

This is it. This is my chance to show Brad that he’s severely underestimated me.

The creek rushes between us, Wyatt trapped on one side with Brad, and me isolated on the other. My mate stands wounded but defiant, his massive black wolf still intimidating despite the bitter scents of blood and poison in the air.

My wolf isn’t just big, she’s protective. Brad might think I’ll shrink away from a fight, but not this one. Not when my mate’s life is on the line.

This is my moment of truth. Brad has always underestimated me, seen me as nothing more than a prize to be claimed or an obstacle to be eliminated. He doesn’t know what I'm capable of. But this competition has shown me I can do more than I ever thought possible.

Before I jump, a blur of movement catches my attention, a wolf materialising from the undergrowth to stand beside me, his stance protective and challenging. His coat is the colour of polished mahogany, his build lean but powerful. Even without seeing his face, I recognize him instantly.

Eli.

His hackles are raised, a deep growl rumbling from his chest as he stares across the creek at Brad. The message is simple. I am not alone.

Across the water, another form erupts from the undergrowth, a wolf with a sandy brown coat, smaller than Brad, but moving with impressive speed. For a heartbeat, I fear it's another enemy, another competitor, joining the hunt for us. But then the newcomer plants himself firmly beside Wyatt, hackles raised, and teeth bared in challenge.

Dash.

His compact, muscular body vibrates with tension as he faces off against Brad.

It seems Wyatt has made some good friends.

Brad's advance falters, his cold, calculating eyes assessing the new arrivals. The odds have shifted dramatically. What was supposed to be a simple execution of an already wounded rogue has become a standoff against multiple opponents. His head swivels between Dash and Wyatt, then across the creek to where Eli and I stand, ready to join the fight.

The air crackles with tension as Dash shifts back to human form. His transformation is remarkably fluid and controlled. Standing naked and unashamed before an alpha, he plants his feet wide, arms crossed over his chest.

"You're not challenging him for his mate, not like this," he says, his voice steady despite standing before an angry alpha. "Not with him injured."

Wyatt’s nose points toward the trees behind us. He wants me to go while Brad is distracted. The wolf at my side heeds Wyatt’s instructions and bumps into me, nudging me toward the treeline.

Brad snarls, then completes his shift back to human form. "This doesn't concern you."

"Maybe not." Dash agrees. "But I'm making it my concern. And there’s nothing in Dean’s rules to say that competitors can’t support their opponents as well as hunt them."

"You'll lose your place in the competition for this interference," Brad warns, his tone deceptively casual. "This is a fair hunt during a sanctioned event. I'm simply following the rules."

Dash's laugh is hollow and bitter. "I saw you run straight past three other competitors to get here," he retorts, his disgust clear. "And I heard what you said about forcing a claim. Even if the old rules allow it, that's barbaric. No decent wolf would stand by and let it happen. Especially when you’re trying to weaken her first by killing her mate."

My heart swells, knowing that Wyatt has other people supporting him.

Wyatt begins his own transformation, and my heart aches watching him struggle through it. The shift that should be fluid and natural becomes a grueling ordeal, bones cracking audibly, muscles spasming as they fight against the poison still coursing through his system. When he finally stands on two legs, he sways dangerously, and I have to resist the urge to leap across the creek to steady him.

"Give it up, Brad," he says, his voice hoarse but steady. "This has gone far enough."

Brad’s eyes swing between the two males in front of him, and to the wolf at my side. He’s not giving up just yet.

"Naomi," Wyatt says, his voice barely carrying over the rushing water. "You need to go. Now." His eyes meet mine across the creek, their depths containing a universe of things unsaid. "We've got this."

I hesitate, every fiber of my being rebelling against the idea of leaving him. Abandoning my mate while he's injured feels wrong on the most primal level.

"I'll be fine," he continues, as if reading my thoughts. "But my race is over." His gaze holds mine, unwavering, despite the obvious pain etched in every line of his face. "Dash is here. I'll be okay. But you need to finish this. You can win, Naomi."

My eyes search his and find nothing but determination, unshakable confidence in me, and the knowledge that he won't change his mind.

"Go." He gives me a gentle push from his powerful aura through the bond, but I see him faltering.

I search his face for any sign of deception, but find only stubborn determination and absolute faith in me. He's uncertain he'll survive this. The realization strikes me like a physical blow, but I force the fear down, refusing to let it paralyze me.

"Go," he repeats, his voice stronger now. The mate bond pulses between us, carrying his determination, his pride, his love, all wrapped in an urgent command to run.

My wolf doesn't want to leave our mate, and neither do I, but the determination flowing from him through our bond leaves no room for argument.

With one last look at him, my stubborn, self-sacrificing mate, I turn and bolt. My powerful legs carry me swiftly through the forest, each stride putting distance between us. Eli follows, a shadow at my flank, ensuring Brad doesn't pursue.

The forest blurs around me as I push myself to my limits. Each bound takes me further from Wyatt, and it feels like physically tearing myself in two. The mate bond stretches between us, still there but strained by pain and distance. I focus on that connection, that invisible tether that binds us together, reminding myself why I'm doing this.

Brad's voice carries on the wind, the words reaching me despite the distance. "I told you she was just using you," he taunts, voice dripping with satisfaction. "If she really cared, she'd never leave her dying mate behind. She got what she wanted, a path to the finals. Now she's discarding you."

Pure hatred surges through me, so intense, I nearly stumble. The urge to turn back, to tear Brad's throat out with my own teeth, is almost overwhelming. But Eli nudges me forward, his presence a silent reminder of what's at stake.

"She won't make it to the finish line," Brad's voice fades as we put more distance between us. "Not with every eliminated competitor hunting her. And certainly not when you die and the bond breaks."

I can't hear Wyatt's response, if there is one. Fighting against every instinct screaming at me to go back, I push forward, trusting Dash to keep my mate alive until I can return.

Then, without warning, a hot lance of agony tears through my back. I stumble, a cry escaping my throat as I nearly crash to the ground. It's not my pain, it's Wyatt's, transmitted through our bond with such intensity that for a moment, I can't breathe.

The wound is getting worse. The poison is spreading. Through our connection, I can feel him weakening with each passing second.

Suddenly, this isn’t just a race to the finish line, it’s getting help for my mate. There will be healers waiting at the finish line. Wolves like Jax with the skills and medicine to counteract wolfsbane poisoning. The sooner I reach them, the sooner they can help him.

The forest blurs, trees flashing past me as I tear through the underbrush, faster than I’ve ever run before, leaving Eli struggling to keep up. My father once said a critical quality in any alpha is the ability to face adversity. To know when to fight and when to make the harder choice.

Sounds of pursuit behind me reach my ears, crashing underbrush, panting breaths, the distinctive rhythm of wolves on the hunt. I glance back to see shadows moving through the trees behind us, gaining ground rapidly. Without warning, a large male wolf burst onto the trail, cutting directly toward me with bared teeth.

Eli reacts instantly, spinning back to intercept the attacker. They collide in a blur of fur and fangs, rolling off the path and into the undergrowth. I don't slow to see the outcome. Eli gave me this chance, and I won't waste it.

I've learned a few tricks from watching Wyatt. How to evade. How to mess up your scent trail. I cut sharply left, then backtrack through a patch of strong-smelling wild herbs before I double forward again, creating a confusing trail of scents.

The distant sounds of combat echo through the forest. Every instinct screams for me to turn back, to help my allies, to find my mate. But I force myself onward, remembering Wyatt's words, his faith in me, and what's truly at stake. His life.

Up ahead, the forest begins to thin, sunlight breaking through the canopy in bright shafts. Between the trees, I catch glimpses of brightly colored flags fluttering in the breeze, the northern boundary markers. The finish line. Relief surges through me, giving my tired legs new strength.

I'm going to make it.

A vicious snarl from behind shatters my moment of hope. I glance back to see a massive gray wolf gaining ground rapidly.

Ryan. His eyes gleam with malicious intent as he closes the distance between us, jaws snapping at my hind legs.

This isn't just a competition, this is personal. He doesn’t want Wyatt, or apparently me, to reach the finish line.

I pour every ounce of remaining strength into a final sprint. The boundary is tantalizingly close, just a few more seconds, and I'll be there. But the male wolf is faster than I anticipated. He lunges forward, teeth grazing my haunch in a stinging bite that nearly sends me tumbling.

Instinct takes over. Instead of continuing to flee, I pivot sharply, all my fear and rage channeling into a counterattack. My wolf, larger and stronger than most realize, crashes into him with full force, sending him tumbling backward with a surprised yelp. His body slams against a boulder with a satisfying thud, momentarily stunning him.

Without waiting to see if he'll recover, I turn and sprint the final distance, bursting through the treeline into the clearing beyond. But my heart sinks as I face not the flat ground I expected, but a sheer rock wall rising before me.

"Oh, come on!" I shift back to human form, snatching a pair of shorts from the supply bin thoughtfully placed at the base of the wall. "Fuck you, Dean," I mutter, glancing nervously over my shoulder as I assess the rock face before me.

The challenge isn't over. There's one last obstacle between me and victory. I launch myself at the wall, fingers searching for holds on the rough surface, muscles straining as I climb. The rock is cool beneath my hands, rough enough to provide grip, but not so jagged that it cuts my skin.

A low growl behind me sends ice through my veins. Ryan has emerged from the forest, blood dripping from his nose where he struck the boulder. His eyes lock on me, burning with humiliation and rage as he prowls forward. If he reaches me, he'll drag me off this wall and finish what he started.

I try to hurry, but my grip slips, and I shriek as I slide down a couple of feet. I get purchase on the tiniest of ledges and cling to the almost vertical rock face once more.

I glance back down, and when I meet the glowing eyes of a seriously pissed off wolf, panic grips.

Ryan rears up, preparing to launch himself at my legs, when a blur of dark silver fur erupts from the trees to my right.

Kain crashes into him with devastating force, sending both wolves tumbling in a snarling, snapping tangle of limbs. Kain gains the upper hand quickly, pinning Ryan to the ground with powerful jaws at his throat. Then, with a fluid grace that speaks of years of practice, he shifts forms.

“Knew you could do it.” He throws on shorts and eyes up the cliff, taking time to map out the best path. Without looking back at me, he climbs. Calm, methodical, and unhurried. Without waiting for a response, he scales the rock-face alongside me, his movements precise and efficient. "Keep going," he adds, not looking back. "I'll warn you if anyone else tries to sneak up on us. You just focus on getting help for Wyatt."

With renewed determination, I turn back to the cliff and focus on my breathing, trying to calm my racing heart. I'm so close now, just a few more meters of vertical climbing separating me from my goal. Despite the burning in my muscles and the stinging of my scraped hands, I push upward, finding strength I didn't know I possessed.

Finally, my fingers curl over the top edge. With one last heave, I pull myself over the lip and onto level ground, collapsing for just a moment as relief floods through me. But there's no time to rest. The boundary line lies just ahead, marked by a row of brightly colored flags. And just beyond the help I need.

Forcing myself back to my feet, I charge forward in a final desperate sprint. As I cross the line, a horn blares, the sound reverberating across the clearing.

I've made it.

Exhausted, I collapse to my knees, gasping for breath. Pointing back toward the trees, I shout his name, but it comes out as an exhausted rasp. “Wyatt.”

Dean is there suddenly, looking behind me and not seeing who he expected. "Where's Wyatt?" he asks, his expression grave.

Kain appears, looking relatively unfazed as he steps across the line, merely tipping his head back and sucking in deep breaths.

Ryan appears shortly after, looking beaten up and pissed off.

Lynn wraps a blanket around my shoulders and gives me a squeeze, but I brush her off, needing to get help for my mate.

"Creek." I gasp, struggling to form words as I fight for breath. "Near the eastern boundary. He needs medical help. Wolfsbane poisoning. It's worse, much worse than I thought."

Understanding dawns in Dean's eyes, followed by a flash of alarm. Without hesitation, he turns to a group of waiting pack members, barking orders in a tone that brooks no argument. They immediately dash into the forest, moving with the coordinated efficiency of wolves trained for emergencies.

I try to follow, desperate to reach Wyatt, but my legs buckle beneath me. The adrenaline that carried me through the hunt and climb is fading rapidly, leaving me shaky and weak.

"I need to go to him," I insist, my voice cracking as I reach desperately across our bond. The connection that's been my lifeline since we met feels terrifyingly faint, a whisper where there should be a shout.

"Let us help him," Dean says firmly, his grip on my shoulders both supportive and restraining. "You stay here with Lynn. We have more of Maggie's medicine to counteract the wolfsbane. He'll be alright, but not if we're dividing our attention between you both."

For the first time, I register the crowd gathered at the finish line, spectators and eliminated competitors cheering my victory. Their faces blur together, their congratulations meaningless noise against the roaring in my ears.

I've secured my place in the final round of the Alpha Games. But the achievement feels hollow, insignificant compared to what truly matters.

The mate bond, which has been my anchor through this entire ordeal, suddenly flickers. Where there should be Wyatt's steady presence, I feel only emptiness, a void that grows with each passing second.

"No." I gasp, terror clawing up my throat. "No, he promised he was okay. I can't feel him..."

Before I can finish the thought, Maddie pushes through the crowd, throwing her arms around me. "You did it!" she cries, her face alight with pride and relief. But her smile vanishes instantly when she sees my expression. "Naomi? What happened?"

"Wyatt," is all I can say. "I think he's dying. The bond… it’s gone."