Chapter 8 #3
“You—” He takes a staggering step toward me.
“You don’t go into heat?” Anger cracks like lightning across his face, his ire turning from me to Revyn in a heartbeat.
“He’s never brought you into—” Cutting himself off, Alistair curses under his breath and shuts his eyes.
“Of course he fucking hasn’t.” When he opens them, his eyes glow as bright as the sun and pierce my heart.
I’ve never been ashamed of the fact that I don’t go into heat, but something about Alistair’s obvious disdain about it unlocks something inside of me. I bare my teeth at him. “The winner can choose anyone to bed during their heat?”
The shifter beside him rolls his eyes. Another alpha, possibly from the same pack as Alistair. “That’s what the Right of First Choice means.”
I incline my head. “Then you’ll have no objection to me claiming your heat, will you, Alistair?”
Revyn grabs my wrist hard enough to hurt. “What are you doing?”
“Showing off.” If Alistair can’t catch me, he won’t be able to kill me no matter what he sees on the mountain. In wolf form, I’m faster than Revyn. I can win the damn race. Then no one will look down on me for not going through seasonal heats.
Addressing Alistair, I smile sweetly. “Unless you haven’t had a heat cycle yet, Alpha?”
His gaze burns even hotter at the bastardization of his future title. “Fortunately for you, only my true mate will know that pleasure.”
I throw my arms out and look around at all the people gathered. “And where is your true mate?” I ask dramatically. “Because to me, it seems that you’re as undeserving of one as the rest of us.”
True mates are rare as fuck. I’ve never met a fated pair, and I doubt I ever will.
Revyn jumps in before I can dig myself a deeper grave. “You don’t have to run.” He cups my face and turns it away from Alistair, a hint of desperation threaded through his voice. “I’ll run. I’ll win. And then I’ll choose you before Alistair can dare say your name.”
I scoff in Revyn’s face. “Alistair wouldn’t—”
Except when I peer over Revyn’s shoulder, Alistair’s jaw is set with equal parts determination and damnation.
If he wins the race, he’ll choose me as his partner .
. . and be at my door the second my body dares go into its first heat.
The thought brings a scarlet flush to my cheeks.
There’s no way Alistair would ever fuck me, even if I begged during heat fever.
That alone will be as humiliating as it is unbearably painful.
“Don’t shift,” Revyn begs me. “Please.”
Our lips brush, and his scent wraps around me in a comforting embrace.
“I don’t have a choice.” I’ll be damned if I let Alistair or anyone else think less of me.
Pulling away from Revyn, I undo the laces of my corset and let it drop.
My boots are next, then my pants, my shirt, my panties.
Every piece of clothing falls away, and I roll my shoulders back, mentally preparing for my shift.
It’s been many moons since my last shift, but gods, am I ready.
When I finally look up at Alistair, he’s frozen in place, the last shifter to undress.
He’s as beautiful as he is haunting, the copper tones of his hair reflecting in his eyes as he stares at my naked body.
Something darkens in his gaze, and he doesn’t just look like an Alpha’s son seeking vengeance—he looks like a predator sizing up its prey.
Adrenaline courses through my veins and sends mixed signals to my brain. Desire pools between my thighs, raising my temperature to scorching and making me sweat.
I need to get the hell away from Alistair Dire. Now.
Thankfully, he must agree. He closes his eyes and takes a shuddering breath, likely as disgusted with his reaction to my body as I am to his.
Without another word, he turns around and runs, barreling past the bonfire and through the wide-eyed crowd.
When he reaches the tree line, he finally shifts, tearing through his clothes as his body transforms.
I don’t get to see his wolf form. Something inside of my chest snaps, and pain radiates from the breaking point, burning so intensely that I barely notice the other shifters turning as they follow their alpha like sheep masquerading as wolves.
Each and every one of them flees after they shift, leaving Revyn and me to bring up the rear.
“I am not losing this race,” I vow, gritting my teeth through the pain.
Nothing else matters right now except the pulsing need turning my blood into liquid fire.
My body isn’t cooperating with my brain, and it takes far longer than it should to begin the transition into wolf form.
Revyn stays with me the entire time, eying the cuts and bruises on my body with concern.
I don’t have to tell him that I’ve broken a rib; he already knows.
When I finally get my breathing under control, my instincts take over. My bones snap, my muscles twist, my skin pulls. Fur sprouts along my spine until it covers my entire body, and I pant into the cool night air.
The forest comes alive as my senses heighten, and I shake off the rust as I stretch my limbs. Gods, it feels good to be free again. As soon as Revyn completes his shift, we move as one, bounding across the field and breaking through the trees, hot on the heels of every other shifter in our year.
That bastard thinks he’s going to win this race, but he’s dead wrong. If anyone is going to spend a heat cycle alone, it’s not me—it’s the asshole who thinks he can humiliate me and get away with it.
Get ready, Alistair Dire.
This wild wolf is fucking coming for you.