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This is a very different side of the royal I haven’t seen before. Arwan’s perfectly kempt hair is now disheveled from how many times he has swiped his fingers through it. His silver rings glint in the moonlight as he does it again, dragging away tufts of hair only for them to fall again over his eyes.

His jaw flexes as he catches me watching him. “Eyes ahead, little queen,” he says. His voice is low and husky, but there’s also a tendril of trepidation that doesn’t match his usual nonchalance.

We take one of the exit gates this time. Two shifters guard it and give us curious glances, but Godric doesn’t offer any explanation.

For all they know, I’m going to be executed.

As their nostrils flare when we pass and Godric growls, I bite my lip.

Damn shifter senses.

The pack master has made sure I smell like a walking sex beacon.

Maybe to drive Ze’ev mad? To see how far he’ll push it with Arwan?

The trio seem to have tolerated one another, but Arwan had said that Ze’ev wouldn’t get within a hundred miles of him. Clearly, that was due to some sort of vendetta.

Not sure why he’d risk it now.

“Stay,” Godric growls with an Alpha’s authority that has my knees locking. “Not you,” he says more softly to me.

My legs unhinge as the males at the gate stare at me with their mouths open, revealing sharp canines. Bright rings around their irises glow as if their inner wolves register exactly what I am.

An unmated female on the brink of a fresh heat. And Godric hadn’t done anything to hide my scent. Instead, he’d washed off all of Arwan from my skin and replaced it with his own claim. Not even sex has fully bonded me to my mates. I have a feeling that King Njord must offer some sort of blessing at the conclusion of the Monster Games for that little perk, but I’m certainly not up for grabs, as far as Godric is concerned.

Because whether or not I’ve rejected him, his wolf still marked me as his.

My cheeks blush as I recall that particular experience.

“Why would you have unmated shifters guard your gate?” Arwan says with exasperation as we venture into the forest.

“Because there are more unmated shifters in this pack than mated ones,” Godric answers, then sniffs the air. “The wind is shifting. You’d better go downstream until we meet up with Ze’ev.”

Arwan nods, then vanishes into the shadows as if he were never here at all.

It’s creepy as hell when he does that.

“How do the three of you know each other?” I ask, earning a raised brow from the pack master.

“That’s not my story to tell,” he says.

I release a little growl, which seems to amuse him. “Then tell me your story.”

“You know my story, little moon,” he says. “I took over this pack and avenged my mother.”

“Was your original pack the same as Ze’ev’s?” I ask.

“Not the same, but related,” he says vaguely.

So helpful.

He releases my elbow as I shake him off. The throb between my legs is incredibly distracting, and now I regret choosing the fighting leathers over wearing a dress. Every single step is agony as the fabric presses against my swollen flesh.

“I think you’re aware that Ze’ev isn’t a very big talker. It would be easier if you would just tell me,” I grumble as I crouch and take a break, swiping the back of my hand across my forehead.

Damn, why is it so hot?

Godric crouches at my side and runs his finger over the bracelet Arwan had given me. He lifts the little moon charm and then lets it drop. “This once belonged to Ze’ev’s mother.”