9. Ylfa
It’s sunset by thetime all the teams have been picked.
Eight packs will compete this year, each with eight representatives, and my stomach fills with butterflies.
It’s the same feeling of anticipation I experienced when I competed with Natasha and her bitches, but now three of those bitches will be fighting alongside me.
How the tables have turned.
We gather in the strategy tent. It’s large enough to house all eight teams competing in the games. It gives each pack a chance to prepare and go over tactics, and my heart won’t stop pounding.
Enforcers guard the walls of the tent so no fights break out.
We huddle at the northern side of the tent. It’s our official meeting place after all, since we’re the Northern Pack.
All the teams are spaced out. It’s to prevent eavesdropping, of course. Wolves have heightened senses, so we need to speak in hushed tones.
Obviously Brent is the leader as beta. All the other betas will be in charge of their teams too, and to be under Brent’s leadership makes me and Silver all giddy inside.
But we’re not doing much talking yet. All the other teams are discussing strategies. I huddle to one side with Patrick and Hunter. Chelsea and Annabel stand close, too. Declan and Tiff stand side by side, yet they don’t talk.
I glance at Brent. He really needs to step up and play the leader here, or we’ll lose.
Patrick’s still in a state of shock. Hunter nudges him with his elbow, offering him some of his drink.
“Here, to take the edge off...”
My mate glances at the drink, takes a few moments to decide, then yanks it from Hunter’s grasp. He swigs it back like a man who has spent thirty days in the Sahara Desert.
Chelsea and Annabel laugh at him, but it’s hardly malicious. So I let them be.
Not even Silver rears her head.
She once called Chelsea a sheep, but that doesn’t seem to be the case anymore. It seems the raucous female finally has some balls orovaries.She stood up to Natasha. They both did.
Brent glowers at Patrick as he passes Hunter his flask, and now he storms over. “What are you doing, drinking? This is not the time.”
Hunter rolls his eyes. “Relax, beta. It was only a mouthful. No need to get your knickers in a twist.”
Chelsea and Annabel giggle louder, and Brent barks at them. “Shut up!”
And shut up, they do.
I snap at last, and both females look at me, surprised. “Don’t talk to them like that. What else are we supposed to do but stand here? You’re the leader, so act like it. We need to discuss a strategy.”