“She’s right.”
Declan sweeps in, stopping beside Patrick. My mate flinches away from his former bully.
I glare up at the blockheaded male. He’s large and bald with tattoos running down his arms. He could almost resemble an overgrown teddy bear, but he’s far from loveable. Paddy has the former black eyes to prove it.
“I can help with the other packs. I’ve fought them for years. I know all their tricks and moves...”
I consider the large male. He’s several years older than us, so he’s been coming to the games much longer. He’s competed in two games already, so he’ll be a huge help.
Brent has fought in every game since becoming Beta, but he often keeps to himself. He never tries to make friends, whereas Declan has friends across other packs.
Declan’s not all blood and violence. We spotted him last night playing a game of poker with several large males from other packs.
There is Chelsea and Annabel too. Natasha often socializes with the other queens, but it’s all a façade. She can’t stand them anymore than they can stand her.
However, she hasn’t been invited to the queen’s tent this year, a super exclusive club. I was invited instead, and it looks like I can be of some help to us after all.
Several females are competing this year as I glance around, spying the many formidable foes. Some are even big enough to put Natasha to shame, and I try to keep my focus.
I’m okay. I have Silver, a gift from the moon. There is no other wolf like mine.
It gives me an idea, and now I peer over at Chelsea and Annabel. They stand at attention, giving me their respect, but I don’t want their groveling.
I just need their assistance since I’m new to being popular, and they’ve followed Natasha for years. If I can get inside the queen’s tent, I can bring them with me so they can give me the dirt on the other females. Tiff can come along too, but I get the feeling that’s she through with stuck-up bitches. She spends all her time alone now.
Brent sighs and palms his face. “Fine. Tell me who to look out for.”
Declan glances around, pointing his hand. “That fine chap over there. His name’s Ivor. A real tough guy. He’s silent but never misses a beat andgoodat poker... He’s the beta of the Western Pack.”
We glance at Ivor. Another Viking God, just like his alpha. He stands a head taller than his fellow team members, his cold, blue eyes flickering around the room.
I shiver. Even Brent looks a little put out by him. “Well... I know where I stand with the other betas. I’ve fought them for three years...”
I roll my eyes. What a way to rub it in.
Brent notices my disrespect, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he peers at Chelsea and Annabel.
“You two, here...”
The two females do as the beta asks, and we finally have our first huddle. My heart picks up a beat. I don’t fail to notice the shudders of my teammates, too. Even Patrick looks a little excited, but it’s probably the whiskey.
“You know the other females of the packs, right?”
Chelsea and Annabel glance at each other. “Yeah,” they say in unison.
“Well, you can both help Ylfa. I know she got invited to the queen’s tent this year, so the three of you can head over later.”
I smile. Even though it was my idea first, I’ll feed his ego, and let him think that it was his.
Chelsea and Annabel regard him with widened eyes. “But... we never got invited...” the latter says, her small, baby-like voice tugging on my heart strings.
Brent throws her a scathing look and the female wilts. He’s so much taller than; he could tone it down some.
“Natasha didn’t, yet Ylfa did... You don’t follow her anymore. From now on, you follow Ylfa. Understood?”
They tense for a moment, seeming unsure. I can tell they still feel devoted to Natasha, and not out of respect but fear.
But they have nothing to be afraid of. Tiffany defied Natasha, and she’s still alive.