Alpha Graeme’s reputation truly precedes him. No one would dare touch him. The only reason Rune gets away with it is because he’s rumored to be descended from Vikings.
Viking blood and shifter blood would make a deadly cocktail of genes for sure, and I shiver at the thought.
The whole of the Western Pack have that Viking look too, and I make a mental note to stay far away.
Their beta is almost twice the size of Brent.
The games at the gathering are normally tense. Already, packs are picking fights with each other, spilling blood just to assert their dominance.
I just hope that I don’t get chosen. I don’t want to fight Vikings, thank you.
Alpha Graeme snarls at Rune, pulling out another piece of folded paper. Then he reads the name, “Chelsea Saunders.”
I cringe as the vile female raises her hands, rushing up to the stage to the sound of cheers. They have nothing on Ylfa’s though, and I almost laugh at the irony when I think back to the time she egged the crowd on, making them turn on my mate. Yet look at her now...
She’s lost all her previous grandeur, and she truly has become a sheep. But she’s a capable fighter—as she demonstrated last night at the party—and for that reason, I’m glad she was chosen.
At least she’s on our side now.
She takes her place beside Ylfa, too afraid to meet the other female’s eyes. I don’t miss the little glare my mate throws her way, making sure Chelsea knows her place.
I bet Chelsea regrets spilling green paint on her back in Kindergarten. Nothing but a savage bully who takes delight in other people’s suffering.
We still have five more places to fill, and I swallow back a lump.
Please, God, please don’t make it be me...
Now I’m praying to the human Christian God as I tighten my hand around the golden cross. It hides inside my pocket.
Alpha Graeme pulls out another name, then calls out the next lucky contender.
“Annabel Duffy.”
The tiny blonde squeals, running up to the stage to join her pal Chelsea, and what are the chances thatbothof Natasha’s minions will be called before her...
I peer at the white-haired female again, and my heart quakes at the sight of her. Her golden eyes are agleam and how pathetic that she can’t even be happy for her two friends.
That’s her problem. Natasha only ever thinks of herself, whereas Ylfa is kind and gracious. She could never hold a candle to my mate.
Ylfa is the true queen of our pack.
At least Chelsea and Annabel seem supportive of each other. They do that annoying thing that girls do, squealing and jumping up and down, and Natasha looks ready to tear their eyeballs out.
How dare they look happy. They should be miserable for her.
Another name gets chosen. “Declan Maloney...”
My stomach roils as the large, dumb male joins the stage, dwarfing Annabel in comparison.
I hate that guy. He gave me a hard time growing up. Although his attitude toward me has changed since the mate challenges, he’s still a jerk.
A jerk who can throw a punch. I should know; I was his unwilling punching bag, and his dad even picked on my dad when they were kids too.
My parents remain in their own cabin on the western slope. They traveled with the convoy, yet they keep to themselves.
All members of our pack have attended the Gathering this year. The Elders advised that it was best after the attack. That’s why there are more wolves than I’m comfortable with here.
The place is packed to the brim.