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Ze’ev seems to be. I’m starting to wonder if Arwan will be as well.

I don’t need more distractions when I’m trying to survive Violet or Ferra coming at my throat with a sharp object.

“Ze’ev is a hybrid,” he informs me, making me shoot up a brow. “So, yes.”

That part I knew. But if I’ve been following Monster Isle dynamics accurately, all hybrids are royals.

Which means…

“Ze’ev is a royal?” I ask, finishing my thought. “But, wasn’t he from a pack that was wiped out?”

Godric coughs. “It’s complicated. But that’s his story to tell. That’s all I can say.”

A frown pulls down on my lips. Ze’ev isn’t much of a talker, but I don’t press the issue. “Is the heat always this strong?” I ask instead.

“The infusion pushed you into the beginning stages,” he explains. “Usually it’s enough to help a candidate select her sponsor, but you already did that the moment you stepped onto the isle.”

“Is that unusual?” I wonder aloud.

He nods. “To my knowledge, that’s never happened before.”

“Is that why I’m special?”

He smiles. “That’s one of the reasons.”

It would be nice if he elaborated, but I know he won’t. “Will it get worse?”

He frowns. “It’s supposed to get worse. That’s what the Monster Games are for and that’s why there’s a chase to the castle, and combat—to see if your sponsors are strong enough to protect you from those who have gone feral because of the number of candidates in a full-blown heat. There’s one more infusion given right before the games begin.”

The way his jaw flexes suggests that he’s concerned about what another infusion will do to me.

Or maybe what it’ll do to him. I assume that, as pack master, he has to be there.

And if I already responded this strongly to the first one, I might not even make it across the stretch of land to the finish line.

But that bit of information gives me hope, too.

The games will lead me straight to the castle.

Just like Ze’ev had said.

I make a mental goal to find out exactly which Rinhold family member is there. Arwan keeps his secrets close, but if he knows something, I’m determined to get it out of him.

“You should be getting rest,” Godric informs me. “I don’t get to choose your opponent tomorrow. And this time, you won’t be using a wooden sword. It’ll be a real one.”

“It can’t be any worse than what I went through today,” I say as I massage my jaw. It has healed, but I don’t think I’ll ever forget the sensation of a shifter snapping it.

He raises one brow. “And what happened today? I had assumed your heat was what had drawn Ze’ev across the wall.”

He doesn’t even know.

I stare at him and debate keeping it to myself, but he’s going to find out about the bodies. “You held a pack meeting, yes?” I press. “That wasn’t a meeting at all, was it? It was the challenge.”

He gives me a nod. “Correct. I didn’t want to worry you with the details.”

That’s fair enough.

“How well do you know Bianca?” I ask carefully.