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Istumbled over the iron threshold, banging my arm on the doorjamb in the process, but I barely felt the pain. The flight from my territory to the North American alpha’s had been a blur, my mind consumed with one thing.
The Contention.
Rage burned through my veins at the way Branson callously tossed me away to another pack, submitting me as his contestant in the most ridiculous tradition in pack history.
No doubt he thought I’d die here. He wanted me silenced forever, so I couldn’t speak out against him to the pack any longer. What better way to keep his hands clean than for me to die in the Contention? That sent my rage spiraling into genuine fear. I’d managed to keep it at bay the entire helicopter ride, but as one of Holden’s men led me down a dark stairwell that opened into a long hallway lined with locked metal doors, panic set in. Was this where they would keep me?
I was already being treated like a prisoner. When the man opened one of the doors, gestured inside, and said, “Wait here,” I almost lost my shit.
It was a square room with plain white walls and a single bed in the corner. That’s it—definitely a prison cell. At least it wasn’t tiny. In fact, I could probably fit comfortably in there while fully shifted. Which meant these cells were designed to contain a full-grown wolf. I stood no chance of escaping.
The man nudged me forward, then slid the door shut behind me, and I fought for control. One deep breath in, then out. Over and over until I slowed the erratic beating of my heart so I could think past the instinctive fear. I couldn’t fall apart, not yet. I needed to be prepared for whatever might happen next.
Pacing the cell, I rubbed my arms for warmth. How could this have happened? My brother’s murderer had locked me up. The horror of it was enough to buckle my knees, but I forced myself to keep moving. Back and forth.
Who knew what kind of crooked, vile men these were? Holden hadn’t looked like a cold-hearted murderer—I’d straight up told him I chose death over him, and he’d just stared at me—but that didn’t change the fact he’d killed Nico, and countless others. He’d killed Branson’s beta right there in front of the office.
Despite my best effort to stay strong, I sank to the bed and wrapped my arms around my legs, resting my head on my knees, tears tightening my throat once again. I hadn’t even said goodbye to Jenna. Who knew what she was thinking, if she’d even been told. Holden must truly be a cruel man to not even let me see my only remaining family member when I might not make it out of this stupid Contention alive.
I didn’t know much about how it worked, but I knew enough. Plenty of stories had been passed down over the years of how cutthroat and violent the competitors could be, and how some would even resort to killing to advance.
And it was allowed! That was the even crazier part. How nuts must these people be to continue such a tradition? Fighting to the death for the honor of marrying the future alpha?
I shuddered at the idea. It was the last thing I would possibly want. Yet here I was, stuck as a competitor. My options weren’t great. While I didn’t want to fight to marry Holden, I didn’t want to die.
The sound of a door opening in the distance, followed by faint footsteps, had me jumping up, doing my best not to look as terrified as I was.
Distinct male voices were speaking as they drew near, the footsteps stopping outside my cell door. My heart jumped into my throat as the lock clicked and the door opened.
Four men stood in the hallway, all towering over me. I stepped back involuntarily, overwhelmed by their presence. These were strong shifters, all of them. Powerful, every one of them radiating a dominance Branson couldn’t hope to command.
Holden stepped inside the cell first, followed by a sandy-haired man about the same age. The two others were older men, one similar to Holden in stature and features. He had to be Bridger Wilder, the North American alpha.
My gaze settled on Holden, who held his hands up the same way he had when I’d fallen at his feet and screamed at him in defiance. Was he going to punish me for it now?
I studied his face, trying to get a read on him. But his deep-set eyes were unreadable beneath his golden-brown brows drawn tightly together. His square jaw, sharply defined by a close-trimmed beard, was clenched tight as he stared back at me.
A jolt of electricity raced over my skin as my wolf surged to the surface. The impulse to shift was strong, and I bristled, fighting it off. Not that I’d be able to shift with the cuffs still firmly in place, but I was ready to fight if I had to.
Holden’s eyes narrowed on me, then dropped to my wrists. For a moment, his gaze flickered, his face softening slightly. He stretched a hand towards mine, and for one weird second, I thought he was going to brush his fingers over my wrist, but then he yanked it back abruptly, shaking his head.
“Kayden Johnson?” His voice was rougher than I remembered, though much of our first encounter was a blur.
I tipped my chin up, not willing to show weakness. I’d done enough of that already. “Yes?”
“You’ve been selected to compete in the Contention. Do you agree—”
“Do I have a choice?” I countered, anger rising once more. Who did these people think they were to dictate my life?
“Participation is mandatory,” the older version of Holden said, moving to stand beside his son. Almost as if I didn’t control my body, my head bent, and I dropped my eyes to the floor. Damn. The power of a true alpha was overwhelming, all-consuming. I found myself wanting to participate just to please the alpha of all alphas.
But that was ridiculous. I ground my teeth together and raised my eyes once more. “And if I refuse?”
The room went deathly silent. How many times had someone spoken so defiantly to this man? Probably not very often, and if they did, they might not live to tell the tale.
Holden cleared his throat and placed a hand on his father’s shoulder. “Can we talk outside?”
The other two men hadn’t spoken, but all four filed out of the cell, shutting the door behind them.
