Page 22 of Chasing The Alpha's Son
“And let you take Katie to the lodge without me? Not a chance, my man, not a chance.”
I force myself to laugh as my bro-y friends continue gibing each other. Then my gaze returns to the frozen river, all the way to the island. It’s a gray blur from this distance. All I want is to be back at home, curled up in my covers, reading a cozy graphic novel about high school sweethearts. The last thing I want is to be out there with a bunch of roided-up wolves. I turn my attention to my fellow competitors. Other than Olivia and Clayton—definitely tough to beat—and Todd and Simon, there are about fifty wolves stretching and hopping from foot to foot on the deck. One dick is doing push-ups. Everyone’s expression is a different shade of nervous or determined.
And then our eyes meet. Jasper is standing at the far end of the pier. Even in this cold weather he looks chic as hell, in a fitted black peacoat, a gray scarf, and leather gloves. Neither of us move toward the other. His stare is cold and accusing as always, but there’s a hint of sadness tugging at the corners of his mouth, as if he’s resigned to some undesirable fate. Once again someone is acting as if the race is lost before it’s even begun.
Everyone is assuming I’m going to lose, that I’m not even going to finish this dumb race. I huff and tense my jaw. I’ll show them. I’ll prove to all of them I have more strength than they know. And I’ll show Jasper just how determined I can be.
“All right competitors,” Tobias hollers, “we will begin the race shortly. Once you’ve all shifted into your wolf forms, I will ask you to take hold of a torch.”
A spark ignites behind Tobias as his helpers light a series of torches that have been jabbed into the ice so they stand upright.
“Each wolf will carry a flame of a different color. You need to carry this flame for the entirety of the race. If your fire is extinguished, you are disqualified. If you are the first to reach a marker point, light the brazier. It will burn the same color you have been assigned, denoting you as the leader of the pack. Be prepared for some surprising twists and turns in the journey. Once you reach the island it will be a scramble to the center, where a large bonfire sits waiting to be lit. The first person to light the bonfire is the winner.”
Jericho takes an attention-grabbing step forward.
“As you know,” he booms, his voice echoing across the lake, “the first three to reach the island will join my emissary to the Rocky Pack, along with their mates. They will join Alpha Morven as he travels to Wolf Point to experience the blood moon. This is a sacred experience and one not many from our pack will have the opportunity to see. Race with that thought in your heart. For most of you this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. For some”—he narrows his eyes at me—“this could be a critical turning point in your lives. Race as if your lives depend on it.”
“What if the ice cracks?” a particularly shivery guy asks.
“The ice is the thickest it’s been all winter,” Jericho responds. “My people have checked the lake and deemed it safe. I know in the past there have been casualties during this race. I assure you that will not be the case tonight.”
For some racers this is comforting, but I’ve been doing such a good job not thinking about my impending doom, hearing about it now is less than reassuring.
“Racers, we will begin momentarily,” Tobias chimes back in. “Once you’ve swapped your clothes for one of the robes provided by the team, please make your way to the ice. There I will ask you to shift and choose your torch.”
We all begin shuffling toward the race organizers, who have matching jackets with the alpha’s insignia printed on them.
I completely forgot we’d be shifting to race. Getting undressed is probably my least favorite thing about wolf culture. Some of the guys have already whipped off their shirts and are pulling the robes on. A couple of the girls have draped their robes over their shoulders and are getting undressed while trying to stay covered. If I don’t get a robe now, I’ll still be undressing when the race starts.
Nudging my way through the cramped pier I make my way to the end. Jasper stands off to the side, his gaze low but unmistakably pointed in my direction. I snatch a robe and turn around, looking for a place to change.
Holding the robe between my knees, I take a deep breath and unzip my jacket. The race team are wandering by with large baskets, and one stops so I can throw my clothes into it. I drop the jacket and, bracing for the cold, pull my T-shirt and sweater off with the same movement. Icy wind hits my chest and stomach instantly as I drop my clothes into the basket.
For a second I wonder if Jasper is still staring at me. Does he like what he sees? What does he think of his pale, skinny mate? Desperate for warmth, I pull the robe around me tightly. I kick off my shoes and struggle not to topple off the pier as I manage to remove my pants without exposing myself.
The other racers are in line waiting to climb down the ladder to the ice. I’m turning to join the queue when Jasper appears at my side.
“Don’t do this,” he mutters.
Not now, Jasper.I need to focus. I need to get my head in the game.
“Max, listen.” He pulls on my arm, and I twist away from him.
“No, Jasper.” A harsh whisper. “I’m doing this.”
“Nothing will be different. At the Rocky Pack, nothing is going to change.”
I meet his gaze.
“We’ll see about that.”
I turn and follow the last of the competitors down the ladder. The ice burns the soles of my feet it’s so cold. It’s hard but slippery.I hope my claws are sharp enough to get some traction!
Everyone is already standing behind a torch, each burning in a brilliant shade. Green and orange and violet and purple and every vibrant color you can imagine. There’s only one spare place—the smallest of the torches, burning less bright than the others, this trippy shade of black and gray when it flickers, that’s just barely visible in the dark.
Will that thing even have enough gas to get to the end?
It doesn’t matter. It’s the only option left so I take my place. Tobias shuffles into line with the torches, clearly less stable on the ice than he’d like us to believe. Jasper’s presence is a cold shadow on my back.
