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A short, sharp whistle sounded in the distance. Holding my breath, I silently climbed as high as I possibly could, as the five Enforcers I hated most in the world came running in human form through the clearing.
“She ain’t out here, Trevor,” the lowest of the five whined. Lyndal. He was a cowardly suck-up, always sneaking out of shifts and cutting his training runs short. Ranked wolves were supposed to be stronger than unranked, but Lyn wasn’t anything like Trevor, or even Grant. “Everybody else is done searching. I heard your dad say she probably took her chances with the rogues. We oughta go back and rest before the party.” Lyndal was so out of breath he was wheezing, and the others turned looks of disgust on him.
“Stop bitchin’, Lyn. And my dad was the one who said we had to keep looking. You know they have the Council meeting at the end of the Games. He thinks she could try and speak at that.”
“Why? What can they do about it? She’s Southern,” Lyn grumbled. The others all laughed at him. I knew he was turning red; Lyn always did before he blew up at his friends, and got his ass handed to him.
“You never paid attention in class, didja Lynnie?” Trevor said, as they started walking away. “The Council Alphas make the rules for all the packs. And the Conclave is the only time a trash shifter like Flor could ever get the chance to bitch and moan about stuff like the Hunt. Which we all know is some twisted shit.”
“Yeah, illegal as fuck. But it’s fun.” Lyn turned his head to the side and spat into a nearby bush. “Tell you the truth, I wouldn’t even want the bitch if I caught her. But chasing her is the best part of being Southern.”
Trevor grunted in agreement. “Bitin’ her would be better. I like the ones that fight. And she’s got more fight in ‘er than ten other girls.”
“I’m gonna catch her,” Lyn muttered. “Catch her, and wrap that red hair around my fist, and make her suck my dick every damned day of my life.”
My stomach churned, and I held my breath as Grant laughed. “You won’t catch her. Anyway, Trevor’s got dibs.”
Lyn cursed. “I’ll claim some other’n then.”
“You do that. Just don’t let whoever it is mark you, like Alpha Callaway told us. Then you can still fuck whoever you want, and it doesn’t burn through the bond.” He snorted. “Not on your side, anyway.”
“Shut up, you stupid fuck.” Trevor punched Grant in the gut, and the grunt was all that covered up my gasp. It was always males who marked the females in our pack. I’d never even heard of a female returning a mating bite.
If it meant her mate would be in pain when she had sex with another male, no wonder they weren’t teaching that. That would make things even.
Though maybe not. Lots of our female shifters slept around. Even after they mated, some of the lower ranked women did it so they could afford food and medicine for their kids. If they couldn’t get money that way, more poor shifter kids would starve.
“Why can’t we fucking shift again?” Grant whined.
“Those asshole Heirs. I heard they got all pissy we were allowed, and they weren’t.”
“When are we handing them their asses?” Lyn demanded. “Soon as your dad gives the signal, I’m gonna knock that Northern Heir’s teeth down his throat.”
I froze. Why the hell would Lyn think he was going to fight Glen? Had he signed up for the Games?
Whatever Trevor said in reply was lost in a gust of wind in the leaves. Lyn’s high-pitched laughter was the last thing I heard before they started running again.
An hour later, I had just started back down the tree when I heard another branch breaking on the ground.
Fuck.
I started back up, but soft laughter chased me. “It’s just me, Flor.”
Heart racing, I peered down. That overbearing, stuck-up Finnick was standing at the base of the tree. I’d never been happier to see an asshole in my life.
“What’re you doing here?”
He didn’t answer, so I sat on a branch and watched as he started unpacking a hamper full of food. A lot of food. There was fried chicken and green beans with ham, and… “Is that mac and cheese?” I was on the ground before I even realized what I was doing.
I used my hand to shovel the first, still-warm bite into my mouth, and let out a moan. “Fuck me,” I mumbled around it. “That’s the best thing I’ve ever had in my…” My words trailed off as I stared up at the male in front of me, who was making the weirdest growling noise. “What? This is the most delicious food I’ve ever eaten. I mean, that wasn’t just scraps off someone else’s plate.” I grinned up at him, but stopped eating for a moment at his expression. It was the strangest combination of anger, grief, and… longing? “It’s not your dinner, is it?” I held the bowl out to him. “There’s plenty left.”
“No. It’s what was left that I could take without anyone noticing.”
I shrugged and went back to eating. “Food’s food to me. But I appreciate it.” I did. Nobody but Del had ever given two shits whether I ate or not.
He sighed when I started wiping the edges of the mac and cheese container with my finger and licking it clean. “Just because we’re shifters doesn’t mean we must act like animals.” He dropped a rolled-up napkin next to me. Inside was a set of silverware.
“Thanks, assmunch,” I said with a cheesy thumbs-up, which I promptly licked. “D’you come out here just to bring me food and an unwelcome lesson in table manners? Or is there some news?”
