I sip my wine, and just when I thought the tent couldn’t get any quieter. I think Annabel shits herself beside me. She definitely has some kind of gas, and cute blondes fart too, I suppose.
Chelsea is stock still, but not Tiffany. She stands as proud as I do, showing the other female that we won’t be intimidated, and I’m grateful for her in that moment. She’s definitely my pillar of strength.
I almost shit myself along with Annabel when the female throws her head back and barks a laugh.
“Ha, you’re funny. I like you. I look forward to seeing how you fight at the games, former dud...”
She pats my back, and I almost go flying forward, but somehow I manage to stay on my feet.
Now the female vanishes into the crowd, taking her equally large lackeys with her. Once she’s gone from earshot, I whisper, “Who the hell was that? Why is she so big?”
Tiffany smirks. “That’s Agatha Rodriquez of the Southern Pack. Their females are all built like that. Large females mate with larger males, and that’s how large babies are born.”
“Holy shit...” I reply.
“Yeah.”
“Oh my Goddess, Ylfa. You actually stood up to her. No one looks Agatha in the eye and survives...” Annabel peeps.
I twirl toward the small blonde. “No one? What about Natasha? Did she ever try?”
Annabel and Chelsea exchanges a look, then peer my way again. Chelsea smirks. “Nope. I’m afraid Natasha was just a big fish in an even bigger ocean in this tent... She was way out of her league here.”
I can see that now. Before I met Agatha, Natasha was the toughest female I had ever known, and I didn’t think any female could ever compare.
But it appears I was so very wrong. Agatha would have wiped the floor with her. Like she surely will with me.
Regardless, I can’t think about that now. I have to focus and not let cavewomen like Agatha get to me. Besides. She said she liked me. Liked me enough to use me as a toothpick maybe, but still. I have to take comfort in that.
The other females stay away from me now. Well, except for one, and holy goddess...
She’s a goddess.
She’s stunning. She sits atop a velvet cushion on a raised dais, surrounded by servants, and she has taken the termqueena little too far.
She’s smiling at me, giving me a wave, and it looks like she’s flirting with me. Her long dress is the color of lilac as it drapes over the side of the dais like water. Two handmaidens feed her grapes from a bowl, and another two fan her with large ferns.
But her eyes never leave me.
Her eyes are the exact color of her dress, and I never thought I’d see a purple-eyed wolf.
“Who’s that?” I ask.
Annabel, Chelsea, and Tiff look at the exotic female, and Annabel’s eyes widen as if she has seen a celebrity.
“Persephone Waters. She’s gorgeousandstrong... She’s from the Eastern Pack.”
Gorgeous she truly is. While elegant, she still holds a certain, graceful strength. I see it in the wiry muscles of her toned arms and legs, and she’s definitely one to look out for.
“Should we go over?” I suggest.
Tiffany and Annabel glance at each other. Chelsea answers this time. “We could, but remember she only acts sweet to your face. She and Natasha never got along. She wants to see how you compare to her. See if you’re any less of a threat...”
“Less of a threat?”
Chelsea smiles tightly. “As I said, Natasha wasn’t such a big fish out in this ocean. Out of all the queens, she was the least harmless, and that’ssayingsomething. But maybe the Northern Pack can have a queen strong enough to outshine the rest for once.”
My eyes bug at her words. “You mean me?”