Chasing the alphas son, p.6
Chasing the Alpha's Son, page 6
FIRE AND ICE
We leap into action––fifty-odd wolves drop their robes, rise into the air, and shift in unison.
Bones snap. Muscles tear. Teeth become fangs. Fingers become claws.
The ice creaks as we all land, digging our nails into the surface.
I take a second to adjust to my wolf form. It’s been a while and my senses need a moment to catch up. There are already wolves clutching their torches in their jaws and tearing them from the ice. Clayton’s golden-coated wolf takes an early lead, heading out onto the lake. Fluorescent colors float around me. The scents of the other wolves and the overpowering smell of Jasper behind me spin my mind in circles. My wolf’s instinct is to turn and pounce on him. But I take command, overriding my natural impulse.
I’m already behind; the other wolves have run on ahead. Was this a mistake? The others are stronger, faster, more accustomed to shifting. My legs are quivering.
“What are you doing?” I hear Jasper call from behind and twist my muzzle so I can see him. “Run, Bonehead!”
With a snarl, I clasp my fangs around the base of my torch and tug it free. Then I’m off. It takes another moment to get my bearings on the ice. Even with my claws it’s more slippery than I anticipated. But once I’ve found a technique that works, landing on the tips of my paws and digging in, propelling myself forward, I’m off.
My wolf lungs fill with cool, frostbitten air, my nostrils flare, and I swear I can smell every atom floating by. Each wolf out on the ice has a different scent and, being at the rear of the pack, I’m battered by them all as I run.
Up ahead the first marker point erupts into brilliant yellow flames and the crowd behind me roars. The speakers blare and Tobias’s voice reverberates in my ears. “Clayton Bridgers has lit the first of the braziers!”
Not him!
Determination floods my veins and I pick up speed. My legs stretch and push as I fly forward. My superspeed kicking in. I had thought it was a blue-moon-specific trait, but it seems anytime Jasper is involved, my physical prowess increases. I make a mental note to do some research on the subject when this is over—depending on whether or not I survive—and press on.
Gradually, I begin to overtake people, the other wolves who don’t have my speedster capabilities fall behind.
Another burst of flames up ahead—this time an electric shade of blue—tells me the next brazier has been lit.
“Olivia Castillo, our beta’s daughter, has lit the second fire!”
Great! Go Olivia! She’s been weird and kind of rude lately, but I’d rather watch her mop the floor with Clayton than let him win.
We keep running straight, following the line of torches as more are lit. Olivia and Clayton are in a constant tie for first place, blue then yellow then blue again, one beating the other each time. I’m not even sure why the rest of us bothered bringing a torch along for the run—at this rate we won’t have a chance to use them!
More of my competitors fall behind me as I make up time. I catch a glimpse of Todd and Simon, their wolves noticeably familiar, up ahead. They’re matching each other’s speed but constantly barging into each other, trying to knock the other over.
There’s a howl from up ahead and I’m shocked to see the trail of wolves ahead of me diverging from the path. Clayton and Olivia are still in the lead, only now they’re running perpendicularly to the island.
What? I thought we were heading straight there and back?! And then I remember Tobias saying there would be some surprising turns along the way. Well…surprise!
The turning point comes into view but we’re all going too fast for the corner. I do my best to control my speed and slow down. Two wolves ahead of me overcompensate as they round the bend, their legs slip out from under them, and they tumble sideways, spinning across the ice before coming to a stop. One of them tries to stand and rejoin us; the other doesn’t move.
I gulp and dig in my claws as I round the corner.
There are only ten or so wolves left ahead of me, but as I try to regain my pace I notice I can only see six, then five, then… They’re disappearing up the bank of the river into the trees.
Where are we going?
The braziers light the path that leads to the shore and then into the snow-covered woods.
Scrambling up the boulder-laden shore is a struggle—a wolf to my side slips and disappears into a crevice—but once I’m in the forest I can really let my legs go to work.
A burst of blue flame erupts ahead and to the left, lighting up the trees and startling a family of deer. I adjust my direction and chase the light. The wolves in front of me are struggling to climb a rocky outcrop, and I know if I get stuck beneath them I’ll never catch up, which is when I spot it: a fallen tree resting like a seesaw on a boulder.
I hope it can hold my weight.
Without thinking I spring onto the trunk and sprint nimbly toward the uprooted end. I pick up speed and leap into the air, arching over the wolves below and landing at the peak of the outcrop. The wolves below snarl and huff but I don’t have time to help them up.
Another fire erupts between two massive oaks to my right, and I know which way to go.
For a stretch the trees spread out, giving me clearer passage through which I hurtle. Todd and Simon are just up ahead, but their constant headbutting is slowing them down. They look up, shocked, as I pass them.
It’s just Olivia and Clayton ahead of me now and I almost can’t believe it. I mean, I knew I was fast—or at least, I was fast sometimes. And part of me always thought I had a chance of placing high enough to win a spot on the trip. But I’m starting to believe that I could actually win this thing.
Take that, Jasper!
The crunch of paws tearing through the frosty undergrowth grows in volume until a wolf finally comes into view. He has the coat of a goddamn golden retriever but the physique of an alpha. Clayton.
We’ve never spoken—not properly—and I’m pretty convinced he doesn’t know I exist. But I want to beat him so bad it hurts.
My breaths grow ragged as I speed up once more, gaining on Jasper’s childhood pal.
The woods are dark, and I have no idea how Olivia knows which way she’s going, but I can follow the bioluminescent trail of her scent.
Clayton glances behind and snarls when he sees me catching up. His lips curl into an unpleasant grimace and it’s almost as if I can see the gears shifting in his mind. Before I know what’s happening, he’s digging in his paws and skidding to a stop. He spins and growls.
But I’m not put off. I keep running. If he wants to stop and threaten me into quitting, he really has no idea who I am.
When I don’t stop he barks, and as I grow near he twists, digging a paw into the soil and flinging a clump of icy dirt into my eyes.
I rear back, snarling, shaking my head and pawing at my face. When I finally regain my vision, Clayton is disappearing into the forest.
That little bitch!
Who throws dirt at their competitors? What is this, kindergarten? If this is who Jasper is friends with, no wonder he doesn’t know how to act like a normal person.
I growl lowly and, even more determined than before, take off.
By following the asshat’s scent, I’m able to keep track of the path. Another fire erupts and I make my way toward it. Eventually the path turns back toward the lake, and I race through the tree line and down a jagged shore to the ice. We’re behind the island now and Olivia is out on the ice, nearly halfway there, with Clayton only a little ways behind.
Clayton glances back only once, but he’s clearly not happy to see me making up so much time. From the string of braziers burning blue, Olivia pretty much has this in the bag, yet Clayton seems determined not to let me come a distant third.
Up ahead, Olivia reaches the island; there’s no shore, just a boulder-riddled path leading to a rocky wall, and finally a flat patch of grass. Olivia is stealth and agility, bounding from boulder to boulder. Clayton picks up his pace as she reaches the top and disappears. I do too but Clayton growls, huffs, and slides to a stop. He turns again, the flames of his torch reflected in his eyes.
Why is this dick so obsessed with me not winning?
Thump. One of his back paws slams the ice. Then again and again.
What is he doing?
I close the distance between us and he just stands there…thumping. I’m coming up on him but he’s blocking my path. If I try to go around he’ll only take off and I’ll never catch him. So I skid to stop a few meters from where he stands. His lip curls and I swear, even though wolf faces don’t really work this way, he’s grinning.
He thumps his paw again and this time I hear a crack. The next time, a web of black lines appear under his foot—black jagged lines that spread out farther with every thump. Clayton lifts his foot again, but this time he jumps, landing with the weight of his whole body, and the black lines become full-on cracks.
This psycho is trying to kill us both!
If I don’t move now, I might not make it to the island, so I leap to my right, but Clayton jumps as well, leaving more cracks where he lands. I bark at him and he snaps his jaws as a warning. You shall not pass!
With a huff, I jump back to the left, but Clayton mirrors my movements.
Cracks are now appearing of their own accord, starting as a thin pencil-drawn lines and opening up until they’re scrawled in Sharpie.
Clayton barks and whines, baring his teeth and shaking his muzzle. And then the bonfire erupts.
We stare in the direction of the island as blue sparks fly into the clouds. Flames reach above the tops of the trees toward the pale moon. Olivia’s done it—she’s lit the final fire.
Clayton howls in agony. His chance of winning is slipping away. He huffs at me like it’s my fault he’s wasted his time antagonizing me.
I growl in response and watch as Clayton turns, sprinting toward the island, his tail whipping behind him.
Without wasting any time I take off after him, but I temper my speed when I hear the ice creaking. A large chasm opens up in front of me and I skid to stop. I try to find my balance, moving as little as possible. More cracks and more creaks ring out from all around. The ice is no longer stable.
Beside me, a patch breaks free and like a whale breaching the surface, it tips sideways. Black, deathly water flows at a surprisingly speedy pace below. The ice whale is swiftly pulled under.
I need to get to sturdier ground, but when I move another crack opens. And another. Surrounded by jagged cracks, I spin in circles as more and more patches of ice are sucked down by the undertow.
Black holes of rushing water appear between the cracks. But I can see where the ice is holding solid, closer to the island. If I can make it there I might survive. So I leap and land on an ice platform, nearly tipping it over as I do, but managing to stay upright. Again, I launch myself into the air, only just managing to land safely, and take off once more before my platform is dragged under by the current. I land scrambling for secure footing on a less than solid piece of ice. I’m one jump away from the edge, and my platform is starting to sink.
With all of my strength, I ready myself and pounce, but as I do the ice under my feet slips away and I don’t move more than a foot or two. I flop forward, my legs running in the air, grasping at nothing—looking like one of those doggy-fail videos on TikTok—and I splash land in the river.
Falling into freezing water does feel like a thousand knives stabbing you all at once. My breath is stolen the instant I break the surface, and I’m pulled under by the rushing current. I struggle against it, flailing my limbs like it’s doing any good. But I can’t find the surface, I don’t know which way is up. In a second I’ll be pulled beneath the ice, and then there’ll be no way out. I’ll be trapped. And everyone will be right. I never should have entered this stupid competition.
All these thoughts are rushing through my brain as the ice seizes my body and I stop struggling. My feet stop kicking. My vision blurs and darkness closes in around the corners of my eyes.
And just when I think it’s all over, I feel the pinch of teeth at the back of my neck. I’m jerked back into action. My legs take up thrashing again as the bite at my scruff tightens and I’m pulled from the water.
The wolf who’s saved me tosses me across the ice, knocking any wind I still had in me clear of my body.
I lie there panting, coughing, spluttering, too weak to stand, to even lift my head enough to see who my rescuer is.
As I pass out, Jasper’s midnight wolf leans over me; his green eyes stare down at me, brimming with worry.
I sit shivering in my robe, waiting for the fire to rid my body of icy chills. Jasper sits on a log across from me, on the far side of the fire. He hasn’t looked at me since I came to warm up.
After being pulled from the water, the first thing I remember is waking up on the pier. Jasper was the first person my eyes were able to focus on. He was pulling a robe over his bare shoulders. Then walking away.
I sat up, my head spinning as a couple of team medics fussed about me. After they’d checked my pulse and made sure I wasn’t actually a zombie, they gave me a tin mug of hot cocoa and told me to warm up by the fire.
The race was done. Olivia won, with Clayton in second place, although I personally believe he should have been disqualified for cheating. Apparently, attempted murder isn’t against the rules, according to Tobias. I guess that’s why so many people used to die doing this.
My whole body is aching—from the run and my icy dip, but also because I failed.
Todd and Simon came in joint third. Someone said they were still wrestling each other as they crossed the finish line.
So that’s it then. I’m not going to the Rocky Pack, I won’t be spending the holidays with Jasper. And he’ll be farther away than he was before.
Aisha plops down next to me and leans her shoulder against mine.
“Sorry you didn’t win, dude,” she says. “On the bright side, you didn’t die either.”
“That’s something,” I say, still watching Jasper.
Behind him there’s a smattering of the dispersing crowd. Clayton wanders out of the shadows and up to a couple of other guys. His friends slap him on the back and congratulate him as he runs a carefree hand through his hair.
“It wasn’t for lack of trying though.”
Aisha follows my eyeline and spots him too.
“Ugh, he’s always been ridiculously competitive. He thinks winning is his birthright.”
“Hey Max,” Katie says, appearing out of nowhere.
“Hi, I didn’t know you were here.”
“I sort of kept it quiet.” She’s having trouble making eye contact as well. Do I have a massive zit or something? “I came to support Todd and Simon.”
“You could have said.”
“I know.” She sighs. “I thought if I let you believe I wasn’t coming you might be less likely to race. I guess I was wrong.”
“Well, thanks for the support.” My words are more bitter than I mean them to be, but I almost died, so Katie should probably let it slide.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” she says, fidgeting with one of her bracelets. “And sorry, you know, about the Rocky Pack and all.”
Then it dawns on me. Todd and Simon get to go and bring their mate.
“I hope you have a nice time,” I say, and this time I mean every bitter syllable.
“Max…”
I turn away from Katie and focus on the bonfire. She waits for a moment but I ignore her, waiting for her to run back to the terrible twosome.
“Max, I…” She trails off and I’ve had it.
“What?” I ask. “Why can’t you finish a sentence?”
Katie’s mouth is clamped together, her eyes darting from me to a towering figure I’m only just now realizing is behind me.
Alpha Jericho steps over my log bench and stands in front of the fire; the flames light one side of his face in orange and leave the other in shadow.
Automatically, Aisha and I stand out of respect.
“Please accept my apologies, Max,” Jericho says, every eye in a ten-meter radius staring in his direction. Even Jasper glances up. “I had not intended to put anyone in danger.”
“I’m okay…” My jaw is quivering more than when I was drowning in a frozen river. “Really, it’s okay.”
“You nearly had it, too,” Jericho says with a grin. “You’ve impressed me once again.”
I don’t really know what to say. I’m not sure being a drowned rat is that impressive—and I mean, it’s sort of his fault. He’s a big part of the reason I entered the race in the first place. If he wasn’t pressuring me so hard I don’t even know if I would have put myself in that position. But he’s still my alpha, and the thought of mouthing off at him doesn’t sit well. So I say nothing.
Our little conversation has caught a lot of people’s attention. Jasper is watching his dad with keen intent. Clayton is ignoring his lackeys, waiting to hear what the alpha will say next. Even Olivia is glancing in our direction, looking like she’s just swallowed a bug.
“I’d like to make amends for this evening’s little accident,” Jericho says.
Accident?! Little? I know some people are questioning Jericho’s authority, but somehow I don’t think undermining my almost-drowning is the way to convince people you’re fit to lead.
“There were six available spots in the emissary to the Rocky Pack. Our first- and second-place winners don’t have mates.” Clayton bristles; Olivia’s eye dart to the ground. “Of course, our tied third-place holders and their mate”—he glances at Katie ever so briefly and I can feel her melt—“make the group up to five, which leaves an open space. It would give me great pleasure to invite you to join my son, and the others, on the trip to the Rocky Pack.”
Clayton looks like he wants to try and murder me all over again. Jasper’s eyes are wide and full of quiet fury.
“Max!” Katie squeals. “This is such good news!”
