Page 27 of Savage Games

The sparring intensifies, our bodies moving in a dance, pushing forward and retreating.Naomi is angry.It pours from her like hot lava.And if she needs a punching bag to take it out on, I’m happy to be it.For now.

This isn’t the best way to communicate, or to bond, but we’re only just now getting to know each other.And she hasn’t learned yet that I’m like a dog with a bone.Pushing me away won’t work.Not when I can feel her inner turmoil.

And so instead of talking, we fight.

Each time we make contact, electricity zings through my body.Her scent surrounds me, sweet and spicy with exertion, making my wolf strain against his chains.

I catch her arm mid-strike and use her momentum to spin her around, pulling her back against my chest.

She goes still, her breath coming in short pants that match my own racing heart.My cock stirs, reacting to both being pressed against her tight body and her spirit.She presses back against me.The slightest movement of her ass on my crotch is enough to send my heart racing.As I harden, she releases a breathy whimper that nearly undoes my control.

"Got you," I murmur, letting my breath fan across her heated skin, and my lips brush her ear.“Didn’t I tell you that already, Naomi?I’ve got you.Whatever it is.”

When I trail my hand down her side, my hand gripping her hip and pulling her flush to my body, a shiver runs through her, and she melts against me for just a moment before stiffening.

"Nobody has me,” she says, her tone defiant, and I release my grip slightly, allowing her to turn in my arms.When she looks up, eyes big and worried, my heart breaks.

I run my thumb across her chin and brush her full bottom lip, which trembles.No longer feisty and determined to prove something by kicking my ass, she looks defeated.

Her fingers curl against my chest as she hangs her head.“Wyatt..."

Before she can pull away, a young female wolf approaches at a run, interrupting whatever she was about to say.I curse the poor timing, and the girl glances between us nervously, picking up on my frustration, before holding out a folded note to Naomi.

"From you know who," she whispers, before mouthing the name Maddie while scanning all around.

The messenger is nervous, her eyes darting everywhere as if expecting to be followed.She's young, barely out of her teens, with the gangly limbs of someone still growing into their wolf.Her scent carries fear, sharp and acrid, cutting through the combined scent of our exertion.

Naomi snatches the paper, breaking away from me to read it without me looking over her shoulder.While she quizzes the girl, I try not to eavesdrop but catch fragments about "guards" and "watching the house" that make my protective instincts flare.

The girl has snuck to the Games to deliver this message while supposedly visiting a sick aunt in a neighbouring pack.She needs to hurry back.

I don’t like any of this.

"Shit," Naomi mutters, tipping her head back to stare at the sky while crumpling up the note.Her scent sours with anxiety and...guilt?

"Everything okay?"I ask, reaching for her, wanting more than anything to be her rock.We’re mates.She should be able to lean on me.

Instead, she backs away, shaking her head."I have to go."

"Naomi, wait…"

But she's already rushing off, leaving me confused and concerned.

My wolf protests, urging me to follow, to fix whatever's wrong.But movement in my peripheral vision catches my attention.

Brad is loitering near the entrance, a satisfied smirk on his face that makes my hackles rise.

Two other competitors who gathered to watch me and Naomi spar exchange meaningful looks."They seem close," one murmurs.

I ignore them.My focus split between Naomi's retreating form and Brad's calculating stare.

Something's very wrong, but unless Naomi opens up to me, I’m not sure there’s anything I can do.Instinct tells me to chase after her, to demand answers, but that would only push her further away.

Whatever's going on, she's scared, and not of me.

Unsure what any of this means, I head to the packhouse to get some food, and to steal some for my mate, who once again appears to have forgotten to eat.Long after I’m done, I stand on the steps, waiting for her to return, watching the pups racing on the front lawn.

My chest aches.Less than twenty-four hours ago, Naomi was letting me help her over obstacles and sharing snacks between rounds, her eyes lighting up every time I approached.Now, she won't even look at me.

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