Page 35 of Rogue Games

“I know, it stinks, right? He came by to give me some shit, tell me again what a bad idea it is for a female to enter the competition. How he doesn’t want me here.”

Dean’s gaze snaps to me, and his eyes narrow.

“What a dick. I thought he was better than that,” Wyatt comments. “Don’t be long. I can’t promise there’ll be any food left if you spend all morning up here doing your hair.”

“Yeah, what a dick.”

Wyatt leaves for real this time, and I turn to look at Dean. He’s mad, but I don’t care. When he opens his mouth to speak, I stomp to the bathroom, snatching my clothes off the chair as I pass.

“You let yourself in. I’m sure you can let yourself out.”

17

JAMIE

The atmosphere is electric as the competitors make their way to the starting line. My wolf is as giddy as a pup after its first shift. She loves being surrounded by so many other wolves after years looking on from the fringes. Feeling how much joy she gets simply from being here makes me sad that she’s been missing this connection so badly.

Wyatt insists on being here as early as possible, constantly pointing to the sky and throwing grass in the air, muttering about the weather. Reluctantly, I trail behind him, ignoring the stares I get as we walk along the well signposted path. Some are curious, some are suspicious. All are paying a little bit too much attention for my liking.

That damn dance. It put me right in everyone’s firing line, and as the only female competing in the first round, I was enough of a target already.

Everyone has decided I’m trying to sleep my way through to the next round, and so I’m the brunt of lots of crude jokes and leering glances.

I want to scream at them all that it was just a dance, just an act. But after the way Dean behaved in my room this morning, and how much I liked it, I don’t think that’s strictly true.

“Maybe if you turned off the resting bitch face, they wouldn’t stare at us so much. Or if you stopped throwing yourself at the alpha,” Wyatt teases, keeping his smile in place while I struggle to get out of the heavy mood that’s been weighing me down all morning. “I thought we were here to find out what he’s hiding. I doubt it’s under his bed.”

Closing my eyes, I bite back the urge to tell him where to go.

“I wasn’t flirting,” I hiss, pinching him hard on the arm to get him to keep his voice down. “It was just dancing. And if I keep the resting bitch face up, maybe they’ll stop trying to intimidate us and leave me the fuck alone.”

With a look of exasperation, Wyatt just shakes his head and faces forward. “Except, you don’t want to be alone. Your wolf wants to make some friends.”

He’s right, but he’ll never understand. It’s the same everywhere we go. Wyatt gets begrudging respect because of his sheer size, whereas I need to fight and scrap to be seen at all, while getting the brunt of the abuse they’re not brave enough to say to his face.

They’ll be thrilled when I don’t make the cut. I really don’t want to give them that satisfaction.

Again, my wolf rises inside me, determined to show what we can do. She’s stronger than they think. My mother was mated to an alpha, after all. The competition here is fierce, but my wolf is thrilled by the prospect of pitting herself against the best. At least half the field will get cut today. I don’t need to win; I only need to make sure I’m not going home.

That will give me more time to keep digging for answers. And more time with Dean.

I shove that thought away.

Around us, more wolves gather. Some are laughing and joking, others are in the zone, intense stares on their serious faces.

“Just dancing, eh?” Wyatt teases when he catches me going up on my toes trying to see above the sea of big, burly alphas for the only man my wolf pays any attention to.

My fist connects with Wyatt's shoulder just as the tall alpha appears from a side path and joins the procession toward the lake shore. He scans the area near the starting line, checking everything is in place. I wait for him to look my way, or acknowledge me at all, but he doesn’t, even though he knows I’m here. Instead, he focuses on Callum beside him, speaking in hushed tones, while his sharp gaze moves back and forth over the boisterous competitors, always watching.

I get a shove from behind, and Wyatt catches my elbow to stop me stumbling forward.

“Hey!” Callum shouts from his spot at the front, glaring hard at whoever laid their hands on me. “Do that again, and you can go home right now.”

Dean’s beta shows why he has his position as a blast of his dominance hits the wolves nearby. He’s not as easy-going as he appears to be.

“I’m fine,” I mutter, giving him a nod of thanks, repeating the same reassurances to Wyatt and tugging on his arm to stop him staring daggers over my shoulder. “I’m fine, Wyatt. Focus.”

When he finally faces the right way, I release him and let out a shaky breath. One crisis averted. When I lift my head, my eyes lock with Dean’s, and although he says nothing, lips pressed together in a thin line, I can feel the anger welling up inside him. He takes a half step forward, then stops, catching himself, and returns to his conversation with Callum.

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