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43

Wyatt

T he clinic is quiet, the only sounds coming from Jax's movements as he cleans and bandages the bite wound on my shoulder.

"Stop fidgeting," Jax scolds, pressing a gauze pad firmly against the torn muscle.

I grunt, more from impatience than pain. "It'll heal on its own. Just leave it."

My mind is elsewhere, still processing everything that happened in that clearing. Brad's defeat. His confession. The unexpected prize I now have to decide whether to claim.

"The wound from the wolfsbane knife is healing nicely," he observes, gently probing the scar tissue on my back. "But you need to take it easy. The poison weakens tissue for weeks afterward, even after the symptoms fade. This fresh bite doesn't help."

I grunt, and Jax spears me with a sharp look.

"Your wolf has had enough healing to do lately. There's no harm in giving him a helping hand. Maybe you could try not to get in a fight for at least another few days?" he says.

"It wasn't exactly my choice," I mutter, though we both know that's not entirely true. I engineered that confrontation, even if Brad was the one who accepted the challenge.

Jax gives me a knowing look as he applies a pungent salve to the bite. "You deliberately provoked an alpha while still recovering from wolfsbane poisoning. I'd say that was very much your choice."

I can't argue with that logic.

The door opens, and Naomi slips in, her eyes immediately finding mine. The relief on her face tells me how worried she's been, despite knowing my injuries aren't serious.

"How is he?" she asks Jax, moving to stand beside me, her hand automatically finding mine.

"He'll live," Jax says dryly. "Though he's a terrible patient. Won't sit still long enough for me to do my job properly."

"I'm right here," I remind him, squeezing Naomi's hand. "And I'm fine."

Jax snorts, applying a fresh bandage with slightly more pressure than necessary. "Fine, is relative."

I roll my eyes but don't argue. The truth is, I barely feel the pain. My wolf is too self satisfied, too triumphant, to register such minor discomfort. We won. We protected what's ours.

"The bite will heal completely within a day or two," Jax explains to Naomi. "It's clean, and his body is already fighting any infection. But he needs rest. The wolfsbane isn't completely out of his system yet."

Naomi nods, her expression serious as she absorbs this information. "I'll make sure he rests," she promises, giving me a stern look that says she means business.

I have to hide my smile at the idea of my mate thinking she can force me to do anything I don't want to do. But the truth is, I'd do just about anything she asked.

The door opens again, and Blake enters, suit immaculate, hair perfect, his tall frame filling the small room.

"Brad has been remanded to council custody," he begins, his voice measured. "He'll be transported to the northern holding facility this evening."

"And then?" Naomi asks, her voice steadier than I expected.

"A formal trial, once all evidence has been gathered." Blake's gaze is direct. "Your testimonies will be required, both of you. And your sister's."

Naomi nods, though I feel her slight tremor.

"What about the pack?" I ask, cutting to what's really on my mind.

Blake's expression doesn't change, but something shifts in his eyes. "That brings me to my next point. The Northern Ridge Pack has been informed of Brad's predicament. As expected, there's... uncertainty."

"They don't want a rogue as their alpha," I state, not a question.

"Some don't," Blake acknowledges. "Others are simply afraid of change. But by our laws, the pack is yours if you choose to claim it."

Naomi's hand tightens on mine. "And if we don't?"

Blake considers this. "Then a new leader would be selected from within the pack, or another suitable candidate found."

"What about the competition?" Naomi asks. "I'm still in it."

Blake's mouth quirks slightly. "Dean and I discussed this. Brad wasn't wrong. If you were to win, Naomi, you could combine the packs. Bring them both together."

We look at each other, stunned.

"Or, if you lose, and you turn down this opportunity, you end up with nothing. So, think it over," Blake continues. "There's no need for an immediate decision. The beta, Aaron, is maintaining order for now. But they'll need a definitive answer soon."

He turns to leave, then pauses at the door. "For what it's worth, I believe you would make excellent leaders for that pack. Both of you."

"What about the council?" I ask, the question that's been weighing on my mind finally surfacing. "Rowan's death..."

Blake turns back, his expression grave but not unkind. "I've already spoken with Councilman Torres. The investigation will be thorough, but fair. The evidence of Rowan's abuse, coupled with Brad's own admissions about knowing and doing nothing... it works in your favor."

He doesn't offer platitudes or false promises, and I respect that. But there's something in his tone that suggests he's on our side, that he'll advocate for leniency if not outright exoneration.

After he's gone, silence falls between us. Naomi moves to sit beside me on the examination table, her shoulder pressing against my good one.

"Well," she says finally. "That wasn't how I expected today to go."

A laugh escapes me, surprising us both. "No, definitely not part of the plan."

She turns to face me, those blue eyes serious now. "Do you want it? The pack?"

I consider the question carefully. "I came here to win a pack. To prove I could be more than just a rogue. To build something of my own." I meet her gaze directly. "But not like this. Not by taking someone else's, even if he deserved to lose it."

"It wouldn't be taking," she says softly. "It would be saving. Those wolves have been under Brad's thumb for years. Maddie's not the only one who’s suffered."

Images flash through my mind, wolves flinching when Brad raised his voice, the careful way they watched their words around him, the relief in their eyes when Blake announced his removal. A pack isn't just territory and buildings. It's people. People who've been living under the leadership of a man willing to let his own brother torture his mate.

The thought settles in my mind, reshaping how I see the situation. Not conquest, but rescue. Not claiming, but rebuilding.

"What about you?" I ask. "You entered the Games for a reason too."

Her smile is sad but determined. "To get away from Brad. To find safety for Maddie and me." She shakes her head slightly. "I've already got that now, thanks to you."

"Not just me," I remind her. "You stood up to him, too. You told the truth when it mattered."

"We all did." Her hand finds my face, gentle against my cheek. "But the question remains, do we want this pack? Would we be good for them?"

I cover her hand with mine, feeling the bond between us pulse with shared purpose. "I think we would. Together."

Her smile widens, some of the sadness leaving her eyes.

A knock at the door interrupts us, and Jamie pokes her head in. "Sorry to intrude, but Maddie's asking for you, Naomi. She's overwhelmed with everything."

Naomi nods, pressing a quick kiss to my lips before standing. "Get some rest. We'll talk more later."

As she leaves, Jamie enters fully, settling into the chair beside the examination table. Her expression is a mixture of pride and concern.

"So," she says, studying me carefully. "Alpha Wyatt. Has a nice ring to it."

I grunt, adjusting my position to ease the ache in my shoulder. "Not official yet."

"But it will be," she says with certainty. "You were always meant for this, you know. Even when we were kids, before everything went wrong. You were born to lead. Remember what Dad used to say?" she asks quietly, recalling our father, who died when we were young, before our old alpha decided I was too much of a threat to keep around. "A true alpha isn't made by blood or birth, but by how he cares for those who depend on him."

The memory hits me with unexpected force, Dad's deep voice, his hand on my shoulder as we watched over the younger pups during a pack run. I hadn't thought of that in years.

"You've been taking care of me since we were kids," Jamie continues. "Keeping me safe, making sure I had enough to eat, even when you went hungry. That pack needs someone like you. Someone who puts others first."

The words touch something deep inside me, a truth I've carried but rarely acknowledged. "Maybe."

"Definitely." She reaches out, squeezing my hand. "I'm proud of you, big brother. For how you won. For not killing him when you could have."

I think about that moment, my jaws at Brad's throat, the impulse to end him permanently nearly overwhelming. "It was close."

"But you didn't." Her eyes, so like mine, hold steady. "That's what makes you different from him. From all the others who lead through fear."

The door opens again, and Callum enters, nodding to Jamie before turning his attention to me. Callum hesitates, then says what he came here to warn me about.

"Word's spreading about the pack. About your right to claim it. Some of the other competitors aren't thrilled. Saying it should become part of the Games. A second prize." Callum confirms, leaning against the doorframe. "Others are talking about challenging you themselves, though no one seems eager to be the first to try."

A laugh escapes me at that. "I'd like to see them try."

"You would," Jamie mutters, rolling her eyes. "Just what you need, more fights while you're still healing."

My wolf pushes forward, territorial over the pack I haven't even officially claimed yet.

"It shouldn't," I point out. "I didn't win a pack through the competition. It's not a consolation prize for someone who doesn't win."

"It's yours by right of challenge," Callum agrees. "The old way. It's actually more legitimate in some alphas' eyes than winning through the Games."

Maybe this is how it was supposed to happen. Not through a structured contest, but through the messy, unpredictable reality of standing up for what matters.

"I think the others will back off once they see how the council rules," Callum adds. "No one wants to get on Blake's bad side, especially not over a pack with Brad's stink all over it."

"Such a poet," Jamie teases, but there's truth in his words. Brad's reputation will follow the pack for some time, making it less desirable to ambitious wolves looking for an easy claim.

"Their loss," I say, meaning it. "That pack deserves better."

"Get some rest," Jax says, returning to check my bandages once more. "Blake says you have time."

As they leave, I settle back against the pillows, letting my eyes close. My wolf, satisfied and content for perhaps the first time in years, slumbers just beneath my skin.

I've found my place. With Naomi. Everything else is just details.

But as exhaustion pulls me toward sleep, the weight of responsibility settles over me. A pack isn't just a prize to be won. It's lives to protect, a community to nurture, wounds to heal. People who've been hurt by Brad's leadership, who might be wary of a rogue stepping into his place.

I think of Brad's cruelty, of Rowan's abuse, of the culture that must have allowed them to flourish. Changing that won't happen overnight.

It would be easier to walk away. To find some unclaimed territory on the fringes, build something new with Naomi.

But those wolves deserve better than what they've had. And maybe, just maybe, we're the ones meant to give it to them.

With that thought, I finally let sleep take me, dreams of a future I never expected, filling my mind.