My teeth hurt. My ankles hurt. My shoulders felt stiff. My joints screamed at me as I struggled to keep my paws planted. Soon they’d refuse to obey at all. I felt the rope slip in my teeth and bit harder. Dirt caked my tongue. I let it slide down my throat and kept pulling.
In front of me, Carter was crouched and leaning backward, trying to gain ground and move us farther away from the center line. The losing line. Instead, a surge of new tension came through the line and he was pulled forward. One step. Two.
No tension came from Brent behind me. The rope felt slack where it left my jaw and led to his. I’d been afraid of this the moment I’d learned I’d need a team. His jaw had closed over the rope enough to make it look like he was trying. Other than that, he didn’t move. It didn’t surprise me. Carter did. I’d chosen him mostly to mess with Regan’s head, since it was the only real weapon I had left. The fact that he was actually helping, instead of only pretending, was a bonus.
It wasn’t enough.
Two against three. Carter and I couldn’t hold it.
Sweat burned my eyes. My throat began to close around the dust in my mouth. With a final yank that sent my shoulders rattling in the socket, I lurched forward. I knew the second Carter’s paw crossed the center line. The crowd went wild. Chaos reigned in their shouts and clapping and then as if by some invisible cue, Regan’s name emerged as a single chant.
“Regan. Regan. Regan.”
The roar was deafening. The one word became two syllables as they drew it out, celebrating her victory. I saw her out of the corner of my eye, already human again. Head lifted, eyes clear, shoulders back; every bit the leader they proclaimed her to be.
I was … nothing.
Future beta.
But second to them meant last.
I didn’t wait for my cue before shifting back to two legs and heading for the small door stage right.
“Hey.” I turned at the sound of Carter’s voice. He stared back at me with dark eyes, liquid and depthless. “I’m sorry. I should’ve … I tried. I hope you know that.”
“I do,” I managed. His apology, the fact that he even felt a little badly, made a lump rise in my throat. “Doesn’t matter. I was finished the moment they told us to pick teams.”
He didn’t respond, but it wouldn’t have mattered if he did; Brent was already gone. Back to the stands to high five the others. Carter looked past me, silent. I shook my head. We both knew Brent had been a prop.
I left Carter standing there and walked away without looking back. I didn’t allow myself to think of Owen somewhere in the crowd. If I did, I knew I’d picture the disappointment on his face. Or worse, pity.
I shoved the wooden door shut with my shoulder and, for once, the smallness of the room didn’t bother me. Not if it meant the solitude I needed to compose myself.
It was the smell that alerted me. Acrid and sweet, like metal. It permeated the small space and seeped through my nostrils, down my throat, until I tasted it over the dust that coated my tongue. My head came up, my eyes scanning.
The room was empty. Nothing but wood walls and a dirt floor.
Something wet fell onto my nose. I shook it off, startled, and looked up. A dagger hung upside down from the wood-planked ceiling, its tip buried deep in the splintered bark. Something wet and dripping clung to the knife blade, impaled by it. I cocked my head to the side, staring, trying to understand. Another drop fell. It hit the dust floor, two inches from my foot. I jerked back and stared. My nose twitched as my brain finally identified the scent. I’d only been this close to it one other time. The day I’d hunted in the woods. With Regan.
Blood.
I backed into the corner of the room, shifting back to my wolf before I’d even realized it. My eyes had gone wide and the fear in me, the human-like terror, warred with the wolf’s anger and confusion. Unable to open the door with my paws, I huddled into the far corner. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t scream. I opened my mouth. The sound that came out was a howl.