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WILD GAMES

Chapter 1

Camille

I 'm halfway to the Reynolds’s territory checkpoint when I first detect it, a whisper of something that shouldn't be here.

Most wolves would miss it entirely, but I've spent six years training my senses to identify magical residue. This trace is faint but unmistakable, like metal filings beneath honey, an underlying sourness that makes my wolf stir uneasily.

Someone's been using magic. The kind the Council prohibits.

I’m surprised anyone else could spot it.

I slow my SUV, rolling down the window to better analyse the scent. It's several days old and carefully masked, which makes it even more suspicious. Amateur work, but not entirely careless.

My phone buzzes with a message from High Alpha Councilman Torres: Remember, complete discretion. Observe only until we've identified the culprit. It may not be one of the competitors.

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. This isn't my first covert investigation, but The Alpha Games are prestigious; a new spin on an old way of doing things, and a magical cheating scandal would put an end to using them to appoint new alphas in the future.

No pressure then.

A bridge appears as I round the bend. There’s no welcome sign, nothing to mark this as a border other than the guard with a clipboard, signing in new guests and issuing passes. There’s no ramped-up security or anything to indicate they're even aware of anything unusual happening in their territory.

Good. The fewer people who know, the better chance I have of catching whoever is attempting to manipulate the Games.

If that’s really what they’re trying to do.

I park and step out, smoothing down my casual attire, looking every bit the curious wolf shifter coming to see what’s going on. Nothing about me screams council investigator, and combined with my young age, it’s rare anybody suspects a thing.

I'm merely a wolf who loves to train hard and wants to come and witness the best of the best compete. Which I do. If I wasn’t sent here on a mission, chances are I would have tried to score a pass for the final, anyway.

"Welcome to Reynolds territory," says the young female wolf manning the checkpoint. "Name and pack?"

"Camille Black. Fern River."

She hesitates for a second, detecting no trace of deceit in my scent or demeanour, and nods.

“Dean mentioned he was expecting an important guest.” She scans me from head to toe, obviously trying to figure out what about me marks me out as special in her alpha’s eyes.

"I work in the Western region. We have a similar situation coming soon, a pack with no heir. Alpha Reynolds has kindly allowed me to observe the Games’ format for potential implementation back home."

The half-lie rolls off my tongue with practiced ease. We have a similar situation about to occur and a similar competition may be an option, but hopefully, with less drama than this one’s had.

Reynolds is the guinea pig that every other region will learn from. He’s going to share the challenges he’s experienced, hoping everyone else can avoid them. Although any competition where charged up dominant shifters are forced to battle it out is going to result in some ruthless behaviour. No amount of preparation will get rid of that.

The guard smiles, satisfied, and waves a hand toward the path up the hill. A couple walks hand in hand ahead of me, admiring the view over the river and the ancient trees. They’re clearly here for pleasure, not business.

"Enjoy your stay. Someone will find you and escort you to Alpha Reynolds shortly."

The Reynolds’s compound is impressive, with rustic cabins blending thoughtfully throughout the natural landscape, training arenas visible in the distance, and the imposing main packhouse crowning a gentle rise.

Competitors and staff move purposefully between buildings, the atmosphere charged with anticipation. Everyone is busy. There is none of the hostility I expected to feel from this previously isolated pack.

"Ms. Black?"

I turn to find a tall, sandy-haired wolf approaching, his posture marking him clearly as the pack's beta despite his casual clothes. His eyes, a surprising amber shade, hold a sharpness that suggests he misses very little.

"You must be Callum," I reply, shaking his hand firmly.

He dips his head with a slight smile. "Alpha Reynolds sends his regrets. He has a pressing matter to attend to but will be done shortly. He's asked me to get you settled."

As we walk toward my assigned accommodations, Callum speaks casually about the Games’ structure and the remaining competitors, joking about the issues they’ve had so far with crowded cabins and voracious appetites, causing them to run out of food. He talks about everything except for the magic. It's only when we're crossing an empty stretch of path that he drops his voice.

"Blake Steel arrives back tomorrow. The situation has... escalated, and we only have a few days before the next round to catch whoever’s involved."

I keep my expression pleasant, as if we're discussing the weather. "How many incidents now?"

"Seven. Increasingly disruptive. Whoever's doing this is either getting desperate or careless." His jaw tightens. "Things are heating up.”

My blood chills. If this isn’t someone who knows what they’re doing, this could end up becoming dangerous.

Callum scans our surroundings carefully. "Officially, you're here observing how the Games have worked. Only Dean, Blake, Lynn, our pack manager, and I know your real purpose. And Jamie, Dean's mate, of course."

The rogue who stole the angry alpha’s heart. I can’t wait to meet her.

"The fewer who know, the better. If word gets out that an investigator is here, we’ll never catch them."

We pass a training area where several males are sparring, their movements fluid and powerful. One of them who’s leaner than the others but moves with precision that speaks of years of discipline, executes a perfect takedown of a competitor nearly twice his size. He extends a hand, and smiling, pulls the other man back to his feet, but I don’t miss the steel in his gaze. This guy is no pushover.

"That's Eli," Callum says, following my gaze. "His brother, Dash, was eliminated during the hunt, but Eli's been surprising everyone."

I nod, filing the information away. Anyone performing above expectations needs close observation, either as a potential suspect or another target.

As we continue walking, a sudden presence prickles against my awareness. It's electric and immediate, and powerful enough to make my wolf snap to attention.

I turn slowly, scanning the treeline.

A figure stands at the forest edge, partially shadowed by pines. Even at this distance, the raw power emanating from him is palpable. Tall, broad-shouldered, and with an intensity that seems to distort the air around him.

Our eyes lock, and something inside me stills. My wolf, normally so disciplined, surges forward with unexpected interest.

"Who is that?" I ask, keeping my voice deliberately casual while my hand instinctively shifts toward my concealed blade.

Callum follows my gaze, his expression shifting almost imperceptibly. "That's Kain. He's... a friend of Blake's. Doing well too. He’ll go right down to the wire."

"Which pack is he from?" I press, not bothering to hide my suspicion.

"You'll have to ask Alpha Reynolds," Callum replies, his tone making it clear the subject is closed for now. "Your cabin is just ahead."

The mysterious figure, Kain, continues watching us for another moment before melting back into the trees, his departure as silent as his presence was commanding. Something about him feels familiar, though I'm certain we've never met. I'd remember someone with that kind of presence.

My assigned cabin is isolated enough for privacy but close enough to the central grounds for me to observe everyone’s comings and goings. Inside, it's basic but comfortable, with a bed, kitchenette, and a small desk by the window that faces the forest.

"Alpha Reynolds would like to brief you properly once things settle down," Callum says, depositing my bag inside the door. "Dinner is served at the main lodge at seven, but I can have food brought here if you prefer."

"I'll go to dinner." I glance around the cabin and set my small backpack down inside the door. This is perfect.

"What about the alpha’s brother? Does he know?"

Something flickers in Callum's expression. Concern, perhaps. "Jax was the one who spotted it. But he’s… otherwise occupied. I’m sure you’ll get the chance to speak with him at some point."

The way he says it piques my interest. "That’s impressive. Most alphas I know wouldn’t have detected this low level."

Callum checks his watch. "I should get back. The files you requested are in that folder on the desk. Everything we've documented so far."

Once alone, I unpack my gear and relax for a brief moment after the long drive while flicking through the papers on my desk.

The folder Callum left contains detailed accounts of the seven incidents, with times, locations, and whomever may have benefited. I study them carefully, looking for patterns. This isn't random experimentation. Someone has a specific agenda.

I change into fresh clothes and pull out the small wooden box carved with protection runes that comes everywhere with me. Inside rests a silver chain with a wolf charm, a gift from Raven on our sixteenth birthday, back when we both thought we knew what the future held. I should have thrown it away years ago, after watching his mate bond snap into place with Jane while I stood frozen, the life I'd imagined crumbling around me.

Working beside Raven afterward, watching his happiness bloom while pretending I wasn't dying inside, had been the hardest thing I'd ever done. The day Torres offered me solo field assignments had been my salvation. Now, years later, I still prefer to work alone, with no partner, no complications, and no chance of disappointment.

Tonight, I pocket the protective jewelry instead of wearing it. Does that count as progress?

As twilight deepens, I step onto the porch to get a better feel for the territory before dinner.

Leaning against the railing, I extend my senses, letting my wolf help me catalog the sounds and scents of our temporary home. In the distance, lights appear in windows across the compound. The murmur of voices, laughter, and the rhythmic sounds of continued training from die-hard competitors.

And something else.

My skin prickles with sudden awareness.

Someone is watching me.

I remain motionless, giving no sign I've sensed them. My wolf rises close to the surface, alert and strangely eager. The sensation is coming from the dense trees to the east of my cabin, beyond the well-lit paths.

"Might as well come out," I say conversationally into the darkness. "I know you're there."

Silence answers me, but the weight of the unseen gaze intensifies. I breathe deeply, catching a faint scent on the night breeze, both wild and dangerous, like midnight storms, and undertones of something primal that makes my wolf push against my control with unprecedented force.

Mine, she whispers, the possessive thought so unexpected, it almost makes me lose my grip on her.

"What the hell?" I mutter, forcing her back down.

The presence retreats abruptly, as if equally startled by the connection. The forest swallows whatever, whomever, was watching, leaving only the lingering trace of that compelling scent.

I return inside, locking the door with hands that aren't quite steady. Ten years as an investigator, six as a specialised enforcer, and nothing has rattled me like that brief, unseen encounter. My wolf wants to go out and find whomever that was. Her mate. He must be here. But me, I’m terrified.

Whoever was watching me from the shadows didn’t come forward to claim me, and I can’t face that heartbreak again.