13. Marcus

Fuck

Pain in my shoulder and neck tells me my landing was less than graceful. I mentally go back through what I remember before they drugged us.

No shifting. Find the other half of my map. Get to the site.

The minor inconvenience of having to keep some other Alpha alive long enough to get there is one I'll have to deal with when the time comes.

Without moving, I focus on my hearing, listening for anything unusual. Outside of the whistling wind, which causes small snow flurries to sprinkle onto my skin, the area is quiet. I attempt to sit up from my position on the frozen ground, snow crunching beneath me with each weight adjustment. Opening my eyes and extending my muscles, I get a feel for the area.

I've been dropped near a clearing in the trees. Based on the sun"s position over my head, it"s about noon, and the sun"s rays filter around me in a beautiful display. It's cold, with snow covering the ground in every direction, but I anticipated it would be in Colorado in early December. If I had to guess, I would put it around 10 degrees, and for a moment, I'm thankful my father forced me to arrive in my winter gear rather than pack it.

I can see my breath as it leaves my lips in white clouds, quickly dispersed by the wind. There are trees in every direction, save for the circular clearing in front of me, and I am glad I was left somewhere with a landmark to go off of.

At that thought, I reach into my pockets, looking for the map half I was promised, and come up empty.

Where the fuck would they have…

Turning around, I scan the area and find my pack hanging from a snow-covered branch on the far side of the clearing, with no footprints anywhere around the base.

Not suspicious at all.

Being careful to stay near the edges of the clearing to ensure there isn't some bigger trap here, I make it to the other side and note anything that looks out of place. At the base of the tree, which holds all of my possessions, lays an unusually large pile of snow from the surrounding area that was attempted to be smoothed out, but whoever was in charge of this did a shitty job.

Fucking mind games.

My old roommate, AJ, warned me they like to mess with your head by adding twists to every challenge to see who can be part of their elite training retreats.

All of this shit is asinine, in my opinion.

It took the Alpha himself asking me to attend in his son's place to get me here, and until a week ago, I wasn't even sure he knew my name. My parents were middle-ranked pack members without pack jobs or any higher-up connections. My mom is a school teacher, and my dad is an emergency room doctor. Their only true status shift came when I awakened, and my wolf was an Alpha despite my breeding.

I"m not sure either of them wanted me to be an Alpha, but the Fates made that choice, and now here I am, eight years later, heading off to some bogus training school instead of finishing my senior year with the rest of my friends.

All because Johnathan Barton couldn't be bothered with actually living up to the expectations placed on him in the pack, and instead, he had booked himself a one-way ticket to anywhere else days before this retreat. No notice. No word on when he would be back.

I'm here to save face. I'm here because if I'm not here, people will start asking questions. I'm here because deep down, in places I never allowed myself to venture, I realize I want to lead. And so, I'm going to kick this training's ass. Just as soon as I set off this trap.

Reaching under a nearby bush, I pull out an undersized boulder about the size of my palm that is peaking out of the snow and launch it at the center of the mound. Branches snap, causing all the covering snow to plummet and a gaping hole to appear. In total, it"s about six feet across, and as I tiptoe to its edge, I see it"s almost twice that deep.

Damn, well, they've used this before because there's no way they dug this out recently with as hard and frozen the ground is right now.

The bottom of the pit and the walls are smooth, with no handholds anywhere in sight.

I guess that"s one way to stop us from getting to the location.

I'm relieved to see there aren't any bodies left inside, though I imagine they would come around to pick them up after they fail.

Turning my attention to the bag hanging directly over the hole's center, I try to devise a plan. The tree itself has bark peeling away from the stump, which would make it difficult to climb. The strap of the duffle bag sits in the middle of the limb, making a jump-and-grab option less than ideal, and the limb itself seems to be barely holding under the weight of my possessions.

Time to try something more innovative.

I take a moment to strategize and walk off deeper into the forest. When I return, I have a six-foot tree branch with me, and I use it to slowly unhook my bag from the limb, careful not to drop it as I pull it back to me.

I'm reassured when I find everything inside, including a half-page map with roughly drawn icons to help acclimate me to the area. I don't see the clearing pictured on it, but I do see a few peaks indicated, which at least gives me a direction.

The star on the left of the page doesn't appear to be a city, and after closer examination, I realize my map leads me to my partner, not the end location. Putting one foot in front of the other, I venture off the path I'm on in the general direction of the star, hoping they didn't saddle me with someone who will be dead weight.

I will make it to this location. No one is going to have a say in me being here. I'll drag their dead body across the finish line if I have to.