Page 96 of Rogue Games

“For fucks sake,” I mumble, climbing over the downed trees that surround the ring and into the centre. Reaching for the closest wolf, a dark brown animal with glowing icy blue eyes, I grab a hold of his ear and yell as loud as I can. “Shift or I’ll throw you out of this competition so fucking fast your head will spin.”

In an instant, I’m holding the ear of a pissed off but subdued looking twenty-year-old male.

Behind me, I hear the vicious growl of the other animal, still lost to its blood lust. This is more than two young men getting carried away, there’s a hatred here that has nothing to do with the games.

As I twist to block his attack, my stomach drops, and the blood in my veins turns to ice.

Freddy’s on his hands and knees in the middle of the ring, clutching the fluffy teddy he was trying to show me earlier.

The wolf is crouched, claws out and fangs bared, ready to launch itself at the man by my side, unseeing the toddler about to push to his feet between us.

His paws leave the dirt just as Freddy stands to full height and puts himself right in the wolf's path. I shift, going from man to wolf in a heartbeat, and jump, trying to meet the beast mid-air, to push him backward before they collide.

The dark wolf is huge compared to the fragile boy, and he’s in a frenzy. He might attack not knowing who or what got in his way.

Everything is a blur as I crash into the dark grey wolf, but it’s a fraction of a second too late.

He’s already hit Freddy, although the force of my weight barrelling into him stops him getting the full brunt of the impact. I send the wolf flying into a nearby tree stump instead of landing on top of him.

Rolling across the clearing, my back hits the ground hard, and I grunt in pain, momentarily winded. Rolling onto my side, I drag a shaky breath into my spasming lungs and blink hard, trying to get eyes on Freddy.

Maggie crashes through the crowd and pulls him up off the ground, cradling the back of his head as she checks him over.

But beside him, unmoving, is Jamie. She’s sprawled in the middle of the clearing, between where the wolf launched his attack and Freddy. There’s a line of red slowly developing on the side of her fitted white top, and more worryingly, along the pale skin of her neck, dripping into the dirt below.

Time stands still as I scramble across the ground, shoving the crowd that’s surged forward out of the way. I hear the whispers, each voice registering in my brain, as I reach down and brush her dark hair away from her face to check if she’s breathing.

She saved him.

Jamie jumped in the way. She ran out of the trees. It’s like she appeared from nowhere.

I don’t know how she even got here so fast.

She doesn’t move, knocked unconscious by the force of the blow. A red mark on her temple is the only evidence on her face of the bang to the head that she took. But the scent of her blood is getting stronger, and I feel sick to my stomach as I look down and see the long gash running from the back of her shoulder, almost around to her collarbone.

That’s a lot of blood.

His claws caught her neck.

He could have taken her head off.

“Jamie,” I whisper, clamping a hand tightly over the wound to stem the flow of blood. I ignore the mind-links flying through my subconscious. My pack is doing as it should, a well-oiled machine springing into action in an emergency, getting supplies, calling for help, and clearing the area.

I can’t focus on anything other than my mate.

Lifting the hem of her shirt with my other hand, I examine the other nasty claw mark running down her side, but it’s nothing life-threatening.

Ava falls to her knees beside me and presses her hands down on that wound, while Maggie passes Freddy to one of the bystanders and starts pulling out bandages and gauze from the medical bag that’s just been thrust at her.

I keep my hold on her neck firm, trying not to panic as blood continues to seep out through my fingers, the puddle beneath her spreading wider and soaking my leg where I kneel in the dirt.

This blood is coming out too fast.

Maggie takes one look at the pool of blood and pales, swallowing hard.

This is bad.

“Fuck man, I’m sorry…” one of the wolves’ steps forward and moves to help but I snarl at him and he wisely shrinks back.

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