108 | RISING TO THE OCCASION

Early the next morning, after a fitful sleep in one of the empty tents provided by the Reiniers, Mom and I make our way with the majority of the Pack to the start line. I stretch out my sore muscles, grumbling under my breath at the lack of caffeine in my system, and wonder if this is part of the triathlon. The starting point, in the very center of the Reinier’s territory, is marked by a banner and paper ribbon tied between two posts. The participants of the race are already lining up, stretching out their long limbs and wearing simple and worn clothing that won’t be missed if they get shredded or wet.

“Remember,” Paris calls out from the end of the line where she waits with the others. I make my way over to her and Ryker, the two of us on either side of the Reinier Alpha like body guards - just like old times. “You can be in a team, but it must be declared and noted before we start. So make your final decision, and we’ll be starting in a few minutes.” She gestures to Ivy, who’s waiting beside the gathering crowd of non-participants now buzzing with excitement. Ivy’s got a clipboard in hand, patiently waiting as a few of the runners jog up to make their team-declarations before returning to the start line. I know Ry already ‘declared’ our two-person-team to Ivy last night before I could back out of the race.

“The first part of the race is done in human-form,” Paris reminds everyone, stretching her legs and arms as she goes over the rules for clarity. “We’ve got a few Enforcers stationed along the path to ensure equality and fairness,” She drones on in an almost bored tone, though some of the Wolven around us snicker and mutter under their breaths. “If you’re caught, you will be disqualified. The second portion of the race is swimming, to the marked buoy and back. That may be done in either form, but once you get to shore, you must be in wolf-form but cross the finish line in human form. If you can’t switch back before getting to the finish line,” She gestures to the paper ribbon set up behind us. “You will be disqualified. Any questions?”

“The prize for first place,” One of the males at the end of the line starts, his French accent making his words thicker and more melodic-sounding. His eyes, a startling amber with a thick ring of black around the outer edges, are locked firmly on my cousin as she stiffens beside me. There’s a fierceness in the way he’s eyeing her that makes me feel uncomfortable, a possessiveness that goes beyond anything that should be there. Almost like he already considers Paris to be his - but not as an equal - more like a possession or property. “You never told us what we would recieve.” There’s a suggestive glint in his eyes as his amber gaze slowly roams down Paris’ body. A growl rolls through the Reiniers around me, my own wolf annoyed and angered by his forwardness.

“It will add to the prowess of the winner in my eyes,” Paris keeps her expression neutral and body relaxed as she raises a hand, silencing those in her Pack. “I will hand out the prizes depending on the intentions of the winner.” She adds in a slightly stiffer tone, but some of the other Wolven gathered along the line hum in approval. I know some, if not most, of them are more interested in having a good time rather than wooing Paris.

“I look forward to receiving such a prize.” The man’s words send chills through me and I fight my initial urge to shift and rip out his throat. Beside Paris, Ryker lets out another growl, and I worry he’ll do just that, but Paris claps her hands together.

“Let’s start.” Paris calls and gestures to Ivy. The young Beta begins a countdown from five. At two, I crouch, rolling my neck one last time, and spring from the starting line with the other thirty-something runners.

We’re all barefoot, preferring to feel the earth beneath our feet like the animals we are, kicking up loose bits of gravel from the marked path that goes deep into the surrounding Reinier territory. Both Ry and Paris explained the course and paths in the race. The start is in the very center of the territory, but leads in a sort of curling circle that wraps around from the middle to the outer edges in three widening rings. Once we run those paths, we’re supposed to end up at the shore and swim out to the marked buoy where two Wolven, Paris’ Enforcers, will be waiting and monitoring us. One at the shore and one at the buoy. From there, when we’re racing back through the same path we’d run before, more Enforcers will be in the trees and surrounding undergrowth, watching for disqualifications.

The term ‘team’ is misleading in the race. Unlike typical triathlon teams, all member of the ‘team’ must go through each portion of the course together. The only part where a ‘team’ might be a better bet is if one of the Wolven in the team gets to the finish line before the others. Then all members of the team will be at whatever place their first teammate arrives at the end. But at the same time, if one of the team members is disqualified, the whole team gets disqualified with them.

Determined to finish the race before the creepy French ally, I push my vamp strength through my muscles as I run. The only rule for this first part of the race was remaining in human-form. That gives me some wiggle room - which is why I think both Paris and Ry wanted me to run in the first place. Though neither said it in so many words, I know this is why Ry got me to agree so readily last night. He, like me, is aware of the position Paris is in because of the other allies. She needs to save-face around them, but at the same time, we both know any winner that’s not Reinier could be a potential threat to the Pack.

What I don’t understand is that, if Paris already knew about the intentions of the other allies - like the creep - why did she even offer the metaphorical carrot for the race? Why is she promising things she knows can get her in hot water with them? Doesn’t she know what they’ll ask for? She should know, more than anyone, that they’ll try to win to get that prize, no matter how difficult and draining the race will be.

Whatever. I just know Ry and I have to get through the race in first place if none of the other Reiniers can. Mom and Craven hung back with Ivy and a majority of the Enforcers, which means that most of the Reiniers running the race are lower-level Wolven. There are ten of the thirteen Reinier allies running. All representatives of each Pack, one to three from each, make up a third of the runners. So if even one or two of the Reiniers can make it through the first two parts of the race, hopefully it’ll increase our chances of coming in first and blocking the allies from getting the first three spots that guarantee a ‘prize’.

I banish my thoughts and force my mind to quiet as I weave through the trees along the path, my vamp speed and strength humming idly in my body as I allow some of the chill to power me. I don’t use much, just enough to keep me in the lead with Ryker and Paris. Though we’re in human-form, the three of us are running almost side-by-side, the way a small Pack might if they were in wolf-form. It’s nearly as easy as breathing, the pace they’ve set, but the three of us stay in the lead by at least five yards.

Without having to tell the others, I know they’ve probably guessed at the strategy most of the others have opted for: slow and steady. We all know most of the lower-level Wolven will probably fail to make the shift after the swimming portion, so most of the participants are reserving strength now. Shifting back and forth between forms can be hard, but for Alphas like Paris and I it’s second nature. For Ry, a skilled Tracker and Enforcer, I don’t doubt he’ll be able to shift back and forth with ease.

What might be a problem is the energy we’ll all be expending while swimming. It’s cold, the middle of winter and the skies are overcast with the promise of snow. The water’s bound to be at freezing, or close to freezing. When Wolven bodies aren’t used to those kinds of temperatures, our internal thermometer will go nuts, pumping more blood and heat to our limbs for longer periods. Most of the Reiniers should be aware of this, having grown up so close to the ocean.

I know that I am, but it’s been years since I’ve had the training to brace my body against the initial shock of the invading chill that is a freezing ocean. It’s one of the things Grandmother had all pups undergo as soon as we could understand commands. Back then, we were pretty much expected to jump into the thawing river on the edges of our lands and forced to swim upstream…or get dragged away. I shudder at the onslaught of those harsh memories as the panic at having to swim like that, in an ocean instead of river, rolls through me.

*Focus!* I remind myself, moderating my breathing as we finish running the human-portion of the course and the dirt becomes sand. I roll my neck as I fall slightly farther behind Ry and Paris as they seem to push faster towards the now visible grey expanse of rolling waves.

I suck in my fear and force each breath in deeper and deeper, mentally coaxing the blood pounding through my body to stretch out to my fingertips and toes. In seconds, steam begins to roll off my now pinkening skin, flushing against the cold air under my worn t-shirt and shorts. My brain threatens to short-circuit as my skin hits the wet sand, but I focus on the forms of Ry and Paris cutting through the knee-deep water a few feet away.

Heavy puffs of steam are curling off them, making the two look like they’re about to combust, but I know they’re used to modulating their body’s internal temperature and are in control. Even as the bulk of their forms disappear under water. Only the tops of their heads are visible now, water rising from my feet to my knees as I continue to race after them. Then the water’s at my thighs, and I have to fight through the signals my body’s raising to turn back and find somewhere warm and dry. I let out a growl as my hips are engulfed and then my chest.

I duck under the icy waves, my whole body flinching as the chill makes my heart start to pump faster. I close my eyes and force myself down, keeping my eyes closed as I turn from vertical to horizontal. With a huge effort, I shove my limbs away from my body. Out. In. My mind’s racing faster now, the adrenaline in my system pulsing hot through me and competing against the forced-calm of my vampire side.

I allow the cold around me to coax more of that part of me to the surface, the Wolven part of me still freaking over the shock of cold all around me as the water tries to pull me under. Wolven are more muscle than humans, the buoyancy of our bodies is lessened because of our heavy muscles - which is partially why most Wolven prefer to swim in human-form. But as I begin to sink further, my lungs burning for oxygen, I force myself to shift.