Page 73 of Savage Games

So the rumours are true.The fight wasn’t random.He’s been dealing with a hate campaign from the cowardly wolves who know they can’t beat him, fair and square.

"Pissed all over his bed and clothes," Dash adds, his normally playful expression hardening with disgust."Like fucking animals.Wyatt's stuff was destroyed.They shredded everything."

I stare at them, horrified.The few possessions Wyatt owns, likely everything he's accumulated during his years as a rogue, deliberately ruined.The cruelty of it makes my blood boil.

“Of course it was,” I mutter.I can guess who orchestrated it, or at the very least, planted the poisonous seeds in the minds of some shifters now standing at the start line with me.My stomach knots."Did you report it?"

Dash’s lips curl into a sneer as he stares down at Ryan Williams, who’s standing with arms folded at the other end of the line, laughing with three other competitors.It doesn’t take a genius to figure out whose scent was in the room.Ryan’s expensive athletic gear and perfectly styled hair scream carefree privilege, but his eyes tell a different story; cold, calculating, watchful.When he catches me looking, he smirks and whispers something to his companions, who all turn to stare at me with matching sneers.

Them.They did it.

"Dean knows."Eli confirms, a dangerous gleam in his eye.I have a feeling if it weren’t for the risk of losing his place in the Games, he’d be going after them himself."Wyatt said he'd sleep in the forest last night.Didn't want to bring more trouble on us."He looks genuinely worried as he stares deep into the shadows of the huge, dark trees."But he should’ve been back by now.He wouldn’t miss this."

He’s right.He wouldn’t.Even if he’s mad at me, he’s doing this for a bigger purpose.It’s a home for him, yes, but also for others he knows need it.

"He's been talking about this round for days," Dash adds."Said it would be his chance to really show what he can do, that being in the forest is where he excels."

I nod, the knot in my stomach tightening.Wyatt would never voluntarily miss this opportunity, no matter how hurt or angry he might be with me.

"Could he have left?"Dash asks hesitantly."After everything that's happened, maybe he just...decided it wasn't worth it?"

"No," I say, with more conviction than I should show."He wouldn't leave without telling someone.Especially Jamie."

They nod, but the worry doesn't leave their eyes.They’re thinking the same thing as me.If he’s here, then where the hell is he?

"If you see him," Eli says, "tell him to find us.We've got spare clothes for him after...you know.And we have his back."

Their support, even when Wyatt represents the biggest threat to their chances, is a testament to how decent these guys are.

"I will."I promise, anxiety climbing another notch.“Thank you.”

As they walk away, movement near the edge of the gathering catches my eye, and the scent that drifts to me on the breeze has my wolf sitting up to pay attention.

Maddie, my sister, stands partially hidden behind Lynn.She's actually here, out in public, and not locked away or under guard.

The sight of her sends relief washing through me.My sister is alive and relatively well.She's lost weight, her cheekbones too prominent in her pale face, and dark circles shadow her eyes.But she's standing on her own, her chin held high, despite the slight tremor in her hands.

Our eyes meet, and when she gives me a steady nod, relief washes through me.She’s okay.Her face is drawn with the strain of recent weeks, but her eyes are clear, alert.She looks stronger than I’d expected.

MADDIE:Naomi.I've been so worried.You okay?

NAOMI:I should be saying that to you.

I keep my expression neutral while our thoughts race back and forth between us.

NAOMI:What are you doing out here?You need to stay out of Brad’s way until I win this thing and get us both out.

Guilt flickers across her features.

MADDIE:I can't do this anymore.I’d prefer to tell them everything and take my chances rather than live like this.

NAOMI:Are you sure?

MADDIE:Whatever he’s up to, you can’t let him win.

Her mental voice carries more strength than I've heard in months, traces of the spirited sister I grew up with, the one who existed before Rowan systematically broke her down.

I want to hug her, to physically reassure myself she's safe, but Callum, who’s speaking in hushed voices at the side of the starting line, catches my attention.He glances around the gathered competitors, then at me, a question in his eyes, and I shake my head.

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