Page 4 of Savage Prince

“I can’t,” he says, rolling fully onto his back with a wince. “I don’t think I can even get on my feet by myself, Jules. I lost…a lot of blood.”

“That’s why we’re going to help you,” Layla says, filling my chest with another warm rush of gratitude. “Get his left side, J. I’ll get his right.”

We tuck ourselves under Ford’s arms and leverage him to his feet. He sways for a moment, but eventually recovers his balance and stands up straighter. But it’s when he curses at a panther girl shoving past us on the wall, telling her to, “Watch where you’re going, asshole,” that I know he’s going to make it.

We’regoing to make it.

And then we’re going to make Beck pay with his life.

TWO

ford

If all had gone wellon the swim over, the rest of the course would have been a breeze.

At least for a wolf in his prime.

Most of the obstacles rely heavily on climbing and upper body strength, things that are only challenging for smaller shifters.

But with blood loss making my limbs tremble and pain burn through my damaged shoulder, I’ll be lucky to get through this without passing out or falling back into the ocean churning on either side of the course.

The ground is slippery as fuck, which is probably why the rules mandate we complete the obstacles in our human forms. Claws would come in handy right now, and the trial board clearly didn’t want to make this easy. If they had, they would have given us the choice of what form to take. But they didn’t, and I don’t have enough strength left to shift back into my wolf form, anyway.

Just keeping one, thousand-pound foot shuffling forward after the other is taking all my strength and a heavy dose of willpower. My body feels like a lead suit and my spinning head a helium balloon straining toward the sky.

My entire life, I’ve always been able to buckle down and muscle through any challenge, often against impossible odds, but I honestly don’t know if I’ll survive this. All I want to do is lie down on the slick rocks and sleep. Even thinking about how much I want revenge on Beck for attacking me and putting hands on Juliet isn’t enough to keep the fire burning in my belly.

I’m fading, faltering…

Probably dying, though I try not to dwell on the thought. If I do, it’s going to be even harder to keep going.

Once I lose the last flicker of hope, once the last of my fire snuffs out, it’s over.

Still, there’s no reason to let my damaged bag of bones put the people I care about at risk. I tell Layla and Juliet to leave me behind more than once, but they’re as stubborn as they are loyal.

I also tell them both that I love them, because I do—though in very different ways—and because I don’t know if I’ll get another chance. Here, at what might be the end of my life, it’s suddenly very clear that I haven’t said those three words nearly enough. I should have said them every day, to everyone who mattered, because what else is there?

What else is worth living for, dying for, fighting for?

“It’s not revenge,” I mutter, hoping they can hear me over the crash of the waves and the screaming of the sea birds overhead. “It’s love. And I love you guys, I really do.”

“Yeah, we love you, too, buddy,” Layla says, panting as she and Juliet shove me up a sheer metal wall, covered in seagull shit.

I’m going to die with shit on my hands, which seems funny for some reason. I share the observation with the girls and Juliet huffs, “Stop, you’re not dying. You’re not allowed to die.”

“Not true.” They continue to push me higher, and I curl my shaking hands over the top of the wall. “Everyone dies, but not everyone lives. You gotta live, you guys. Both of you. You gotta tell people how you feel and go after your dreams. Because you’re good people. The world needs more good people. Too many people are just selfish, stupid…dick slices.”

“Dick slices?” Layla echoes.

“Ignore him,” Juliet says, grunting as she pulls herself over the top of the wall in front of me to help ease me down on the other side. “He’s drunk on blood loss.”

“I’m not drunk,” I slur. “I just have love in my heart, Growly. Don’t shun my love while I’m dying.”

Juliet catches me as my feet touch down on the ground beside the wall, holding me up when my knees almost buckle. Then she grips my face in both of her hands and whispers, “Don’t talk like that. I’m serious. I can’t deal with it right now. You aren’t going to die on me.”

“I might,” I whisper back. “It feels…strained inside, Jules. Like the seams are fraying and the pieces might not hold.”

Her eyes blaze into mine. “This isn’t the time for poetry. This is the time for reaching down deep and pushing through to the finish line. All we have to do is get to the top of the cliffs, then you can fall apart with doctors right there to fix you.”

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