Page 2 of Wild Games
I raise an eyebrow, and she laughs, explaining, “It just means you won’t have to fight for a front-row seat at the events.”
Slipping it around my neck, I give her my friendliest, most disarming grin.
“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.” And for added girl-bonding effect, I force myself to add, with a wink and some practiced enthusiasm, “And if I happen to find my mate while I’m here, then that’s an added bonus.”
The half lie rolls off my tongue with ease. Wedohave a similar situation about to occur, and a similar competition may be an option, although hopefully with less drama than this one. Reynolds is the guinea pig that every other region will be able to learn from, including the challenges he’s faced, and attempt to pre-empt the same issues.
Although that’s easier said than done.
Any competition where charged-up dominant shifters are forced to battle it out for power and land is always going to result in some ruthless behaviour.
“Why do you think I tookthisjob? Everyone has to go by me.” The guard chuckles before smiling, satisfied, and then waves a hand toward the path up the hill, gesturing for me to go ahead. “Just follow the path to the packhouse. Someone will find you and escort you to Alpha Reynolds shortly.”
The Reynolds compound is impressive. Rustic cabins blend thoughtfully with the natural landscape. The forest is old, filledwith ancient trees that feel almost mystical, and touched with enchantment of the good kind.
Not the type of magical presence I’m hunting here today.
There are modern training arenas visible in the distance, and the imposing main packhouse comes into view as I crown a gentle rise. Competitors and staff move purposefully between buildings, the atmosphere charged with anticipation. Everyone is busy. There’s none of the hostility toward the new arrivals that I expected to feel from a previously isolated pack.
They all seem invested in making the Games a success. The pack’s cubs play happily with the children who’ve arrived from other regions. When I close my eyes and reach out, looking for the kind of poisonous vibrations I can normally feel when a pack is divided and bitter, there are none.
This pack is united in support of its Alpha, making sabotage from inside seem less likely. While not completely off the list, that’s one angle that’s immediately pushed further down the pecking order.
“Ms. Black?”
I turn to find a tall, sandy-haired wolf approaching, his posture and confidence marking him clearly as the pack’s beta, despite his casual clothes. His eyes 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 tells me all about the Games structure, and the remaining competitors, joking about the issues they’ve had so far with over-crowded cabins and voracious appetites causing them to run out of food.
He talks about everything except the magic.
For a moment, I wonder whether Dean has kept this from his own beta. It’s only when we’re crossing an empty stretch of path that he drops his voice and indicates that he’s in the loop about what’s been going on.
“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, we suspect. Three for sure. Increasingly brazen.” His jaw tightens. “Things are heating up as we get to the business end of the competition. We’re afraid they’ll go too far, and someone’s going to get hurt.”
My blood chills. If this isn’t someone who knows what they’re doing, this could end up becoming dangerous.
“That’s why I’m here to help. We’ll find them.” I sound more confident than I feel. With so many people coming and going from the territory, so many mingling scents and big personalities, as well as competing political agendas, there are endless potential suspects.
Callum scans our surroundings carefully. “Officially, you’re here observing how the Games have worked. Only me, Dean, Blake, and Lynn, our pack manager, know the real purpose of your visit. And of course, Jamie, Dean’s mate.”
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 a council 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, leaner than the others and moving with a precision that speaks of years of discipline, executes a perfect takedown of a competitor nearly twice his size. Smiling, he extends a hand and pulls the otherman 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 suspect, or a potential target.