Page 1 of Savage Games

1

Wyatt

“Look at how tall he is.I bet he could crush a man’s head with one hand.”

My head feels like it's about to explode as the weight of their stares and hushed whispers make me feel claustrophobic.A small crowd of curious spectators, here to watch the games and mingle with the competitors, has gathered around me.They mean no harm, but after two days without sleep, I'm not in the mood for twenty questions or to be treated like a freak show.

Standing at nearly seven feet tall with shoulders broad enough to fill a door frame, I'm used to the second looks and fearful glances.My dark hair falls just below my jaw, and the scars that mark my body tell stories of survival as a homeless teen that none of these pampered pack wolves could understand.

The long scar on my forearm is from three wolves who cornered me during my first winter alone.The round mark on my shoulder is courtesy of an alpha who caught me stealing food and decided teaching me a lesson was more important than feeding me.

Years of constantly moving and working whatever hard labour jobs I could get have hardened my body into solid muscle.The shifters currently gawking at me should be used to seeing impressive physical specimens, but even among the alphas all gathered here to compete in the games, I know I stand out.

And being a rogue adds to the sense of danger they feel when they see me pass by.

But I’m the last person here that anyone needs to be concerned about.I’m not here to cause trouble.All I want is a pack to call home, but if no pack will accept me, and no alpha is willing to have a wolf as strong as mine under their command in case I turn on them, I'll just have to win my own.

Now that Jamie, my sister, has found her fated mate and her place here as Luna, she's more relaxed than I've ever seen her.It’s making me more than a little envious.Her fight is over while mine feels like it’s just beginning as I watch my competition moving through the thronging crowd.

Winning the Alpha Games is not going to be easy.The Games were common generations ago, a way to let wolves compete for territory without the bloodshed that nearly wiped us out.In recent years, packs have passed down through families, inherited rather than won.

But without any family to take over a pack in his region, Blake Steel has revived the practice, hoping it’s a fairer way of promoting a new alpha than awarding it to whomever is in the council’s good books.The Games consists of challenges to test strength, skill, and leadership.The winner gets a territory to lead, respect from the council, and a chance to build something lasting.At the end of the competition, the losers go home empty-handed, or in my case, back to having no home at all.

Which is why I need to focus, but my wolf is on edge.

Is it being around so many people after years of living on the fringes of society?Maybe.Does he sense a threat I haven’t picked up on yet?More than a possibility with the amounts of hard looks and sneering comments I’ve been getting from those who think a rogue isn’t fit to lead a pack and should’ve never been allowed to enter in the first place.

"What was it like living as a rogue?"

"Are you officially part of the Reynolds’s pack now?"

"Are you still going to compete now that you're no longer homeless?"

It's a struggle to keep a scowl from my face as best I can while I politely respond to the extremely personal and invasive questions being thrown at me.Most of them, I don't have answers for, because I don't know yet myself.

Should I continue to compete, knowing nobody wants me to win?Maybe I should put down roots here with Jamie.

Except, deep down, I know that won't work.Not for the long term.

Over the heads of the shifters surrounding me, I watch Dean carrying my sister away, who’s giggling like a schoolgirl, as he slings her over his shoulder and marches from the field.She doesn't need me to protect her anymore, not like before.She has everything she's ever wanted, and I'm happy for her.

Staying here under Dean, even if he gave me a senior role within his pack, wouldn’t be enough for my wolf.We'll either be an alpha or a rogue.I don't think there's any in between for us.

And I like Dean.The last thing I want is to end up in a fight with my new brother-in-law because my wolf has decided he doesn’t want to take orders from anyone.

With a polite nod, I excuse myself from the group peppering me with questions and drift slowly through the crowd toward where the next round of the Alpha Games is due to begin.Most are just here to watch, but it’s easy to spot the competitors normally standing taller than the rest, expressions serious, nerves starting to take hold.

Packs from all over have sent people to watch.The excitement is tangible.Fresh scents mix in the air as wolves from all territories gather to see who'll be the next alpha.Most came for the spectacle.Some are here hoping to find their mates in the thronging crowds.This is the largest shifter event to be held for years, and it has the feel of a huge celebration.I can’t even imagine what it will be like for the final.

But among the competitors, there are lots of people with points to prove.That they could have been alpha too, if not for their birth order.They long to escape, after living in the shadow of their older siblings for too long, and wish to strike out on their own.For them, this is serious business.

I could respect it if I wasn’t here to dash their dreams and take them for myself.

The stroke of slim fingers down my bicep snaps me out of my trance, and I grab the hand roughly without thinking, my body automatically going on the defensive as my fingers wrap hard around the delicate wrist.

“Oh my, you are a big boy.”The woman standing in front of me purrs as I slowly release my grip and peel her hand off my skin.“I like a bit of danger every now and then,” she adds, holding onto her wrist and rubbing it, staring up at me with a heated look in her wide eyes.

Her friends, a nearby group of she-wolves, stare at us, waiting to see what I’ll do.Instead of giving them a reaction they can gossip about over dinner plates, I ignore her and stare out across the field, trying to figure out what has me so distracted.

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