Page 22 of Wild Games

This is powerful stuff. Whoever did this wanted to cause maximum confusion, stripping wolves of their most basic tracking ability to ensure they would definitely be able to win and progress.

Or make it obvious enough that someone is tampering with the events that the entire Games get called off.

“Why though?” I mutter, squatting down and taking some scrapings of the area and sealing the affected slivers of bark in a special evidence bag before sliding it into my inside pocket.

I’m so focussed running over the various motives for sabotaging the Games that I don’t hear someone approach until they’re almost at the edge of the clearing.

Only a slight breeze across the back of my neck has me sitting up and paying attention right before a deep voice breaks the silence.

“Talking to yourself? That’s rarely a good sign.”

11

CAMILLE

Kain emerges from the shadows between ancient pines, his power preceding him like a wave.

My wolf watches his approach with wary interest. Unlike Ryan, who’s all swagger, bold attitude and pumped-up muscles, Kain’s energy is striking in a different way. He’s not brash or cocky; instead, his composed demeanour commands respect. He’s a bit of a mythical character among enforcers, the man who gets drafted to help handle wolves dealing with moon madness or turning feral.

So what is he doing here?

“Just thinking out loud,” I reply, fixing a pleasant smile on my face. “Sometimes talking through a problem helps me work through it.”

If he thinks I’m odd for talking to myself in the middle of the forest, he doesn’t show it. His expression remains neutral, though I catch the way his gaze takes in my position near the contaminated markers, and how my hands are shoved into my jacket pockets to hide the evidence bags tucked inside.

“And what problem are you struggling with today?” He moves closer with deliberate steps, not quite threatening, butdefinitely testing my boundaries.” Maybe it’s something I can help you with.”

I can’t figure out if he’s talking about the case, Jax, or both.

His wolf’s demeanour is so different from Jax’s wild energy, controlled and calculated, and it makes him almost impossible to read.

As he eases closer, I take a step or two away, toward a large tree, to re-establish my personal space. The bark is rough under my palm, and I can still sense the faint traces of magic clinging to it. Looking at Kain, I wonder if he can pick it up too.

Maybe that’s why he’s out here.

“The course setup is interesting.” I gesture vaguely at the marked trees around us. “I’m just trying to understand how it all works for when it’s our turn.”

Kain looks out into the dark forest, then back at me, scepticism clear in his dubious expression.

“It’s a bit late for you to be arriving now to observe the Games. They’re almost over. I take it you’re not just here for your pack, but in a professional capacity.”

He stops in front of me, just outside acceptable conversation distance, forcing me to look up at him.

“Is that not professional enough?” I ask with a smile, not volunteering anything. We’ve never been formally introduced, so it’s quite possible he’s just testing a suspicion by throwing out a comment to see if I’ll bite. But I’m not that green.

The canopy overhead filters the late afternoon sun, casting shifting patterns across his face.

“And these scent challenges were completed days ago. Wandering the woods alone now isn’t going to tell you much. You should have been here to see them.”

I shrug, looking past him at the marked trees to visualize how the wolves completing this challenge would have becomeconfused at this point, but I’m unable to pick up a clean scent or even tell which direction it went.

“Maybe. But I still like to understand how things work. I may as well make myself useful when I’m here.”

Kain leans back, arms folded, and gives me a wry smile, like he’s in on the joke. “Yes, though I can’t help but wonder why an observer needs to complete such a... thorough examination… when they can create any challenge they want to test their own alphas.”

There’s no direct accusation in his tone, just mild curiosity, but it still makes my pulse quicken.

He knows that’s not the real reason I’m here.