20. Marcus

After another thirty minutes, we reach our destination just as the sun fully sets. Wood fencing surrounds the camp, which sports a makeshift watch tower on each corner. The compound appears to be a few hundred yards across, with a large gate in the middle that stands partially open and is guarded by two men.

Smoke rises out from behind the fencing, and shadows dance in the distance, letting us know they have fires lit around the camp. Voices waft in our direction from the pack members guarding the facility, and the sound of dishes can be heard from one of the tents on the other side.

We made it. With time to spare!

Relief spreads through me, and stress melts away that I wasn't even aware I was carrying.

I can do this.

Stepping forward to approach the gate, a hand grabs my shoulder, pulling me back. My head snaps toward my partner, and he points to the ground about fifteen feet in front of the gate. I squint, trying to make out why he is stopping me when I see the small silver lines reflect briefly in the moonlight.

Traps.

Following the lines, I make out a grid spanning from one end of the open area at the trees to the other. It must be ten feet wide and a football field in length. Turning away from the main entrance, I see the grid squares extend and eventually disappear.

We have to find a way around, without tripping any of the wires, in the dark.

Fucking wonderful.

My stare returns to find my partner matching my expression. His eyes are shifted as he scans the surrounding perimeter for a way through. As I look back over the interconnected wiring, I see that each section sits in isolation. So, if one team sets off a section, it would leave the others untouched. Each grid square is about five feet by five feet.

What if we…

Before I can talk myself out of it or run the idea past my partner, I reach down for a broken tree branch about the size of my arm lying on the ground and unceremoniously chuck it at the closest grid wire before taking cover behind a large trunk, pulling my partner back with me.

"What the fuck are you…" is all I hear before the branch hits home, snagging the wire and releasing an oversized net that now sits floating a few feet above the ground.

Guards stationed at the gate quickly stand alert, turning their attention to the net, but they realize quickly that it hasn't caught anyone.

"Damnit, Danny! Your stupid net went off again. Probably another ground squirrel. Go get the tools from the tower so we can reset it before they start arriving," One of the men says before turning away from the disturbed scene.

"You're fucking batshit. You know that?" My partner whispers to me, humor lacing his tone as he continues, "I guess it"s faster than going all the way around and back. Plus, the guards aren't supposed to stop us. They are only there to ensure no one dies." He shrugs at the statement before picking up a log of his own and chucking it to the next wired section.

This time, a gunshot rings out, and both of us hit the dirt on impulse before we realize it was a sound alarm triggered by the trap.

They are all different.

I grab another smaller branch and throw it to the third of five sections between us and the front gate while the sound of the guards locating us hits my ears.

"Sneaky bastards," one says.

This grid falls away completely, revealing a pit similar to the one at my starting location.

My partner's next shot clears the pit, only to catch fire from the electricity that is apparently being run to that area of the booby traps.

Well, shit. Glad we missed that party trick.

With one section left between us and the finish line, my gaze moves to my partner, who is grinning from ear to ear as he stretches the final chunk of wood in my direction.

"Let's say we finish this, eh?"

I grab the branch, walk around the swinging net, past the now expended trip wire for the sound alarm, and stop in front of the pit before launching the final piece into the air. We watch in slow motion as it turns end over end before landing at the center with a soft thud.

And then…nothing.

Nothing explodes, drops, pops up, makes a sound, or triggers a response. Literally, nothing happens.

The silence that follows the drop is deafening as I stand waiting. Time merely exists as my pulse begins to drum in my ears. My eyes flash across the space, wondering if I'd somehow missed the wire when the limb landed.

Confusion etched on my face, I turn to my partner, whose brows are lowered in deep concentration.

"Any wisdom you wanna impart?" I ask, hoping he has an inkling as to what the last trap might hold.

"Could be a weight sensor that doesn't activate until the pressure is placed and then removed," he answers quietly, his hand cupped at his chin as he considers. "Or it could be something we can't see, acid or some chemical. Hell, it could be a lot of things. Not sure we will be able to test all of them out."

My stare slides back to the guards across the way, who appear to be analyzing us as they stand silently by, waiting for our next move.

"Maybe I should throw another branch? See if I can move the first one enough to see about the weight sensor or turn it to see if anything is happening to the bottom?" I offer as an option before jogging back to the tree line to grab a few more broken limbs.

When I return, I launch the first one, missing my target by about a foot. My partner and I both hold, waiting to see if anything happens before I try again, this time hitting the first log and rolling it out of the way.

No explosion. No darts. No alarm. No change.

Well, shit… that takes most of those things off the table.

In the distance behind me, I hear footsteps approaching through the dense trees to our left.

Another team is on their way. We're out of time.

I turn to my partner, realizing he heard the same thing and asking the silent question.

What do we do now?

"There's no way around it now. It's through that grid, or wait until the other team tries their luck," he whispers, keeping his voice incredibly low to keep anyone from hearing.

"No fucking way. We were first. I'm not handing someone else our victory," I state in a hurried whisper, making the decision then and there. "Let's go, I'll lead. If anything happens, avoid the trap. We can worry about rescuing me once we know what we are dealing with. Cool?" I ask, seeing his mask fall and surprise flash across his features along with confusion. He nods, not recovering his mask and keeping his orange-flecked eyes locked on my movements.

Stepping carefully between the lines, I edge myself closer to the last grid, hoping whatever happens here won't hurt my chances of surviving the next few weeks. When I'm as close as possible, I release the air pent up in my chest.

Alphas lead.

My wolf stands ready within me, and I have to mentally remind him he can't take over unless we are going to die. We need this camp.

My foot lifts into the air, and I aim to place it carefully next to the third branch I threw, but just as it connects with the ground, a black boot comes into view on the other side.

Weight shifting, the earth feels firm beneath my foot, and my eyes flip up to see my partner has stepped into the area with me.

What the fuck is he doing?

"Can't have you taking all the glory," he says, his voice low, but his face tells a different story. I want to push him on it, but knowing we're this close to the guards, I hold my tongue, and we walk side by side through the last grid and up to the gate without incident.

The trap was no trap? That makes no sense.

We approach the two guards, who move out of our way, allowing us entry. Just beyond the gate is a large fire. Three men sit waiting beside it, though only one is an Alpha. His power radiates off of him, and we focus our path toward him.

He sits casually, his long dark beard nearly hitting his chest, his hair pulled back and knotted behind him, the area by his ear shaved clean and tattooed. A scar is visible across his right eye, which is pure white, a stark contrast to the almost black pigment of his left.

At the sound of our approach, he turns his attention to us, scanning me first before turning his gaze to my partner. His expression doesn't change but gets colder somehow as he addresses us for the first time.

"Dieci, you continue to surprise us all," his voice is graveled as if he'd been shouting and lost most of the pure sound, but there is a resounding hatred in his words, which I don't miss.

Dieci?

My head snaps to my partner. No. Fucking. Way.

He doesn't react. Doesn't change his stance or look my direction. The only reason I know he heard the man is the small tick at his jaw.

He can't be…

"You'd think you would have learned by now not to underestimate me, RamRod. Guess not all of us are that quick," he replies, nothing but malice in his voice.

My partner is Deacon. Fucking. Marlo. Dieci. The only wolf to ever complete his Awakening in ten minutes. He's a legend, and he's only eighteen.

I guess if I needed an ally, the most hated and feared Alpha in the region might just be the best bit of fate yet.

"Code Phrase," RamRod growls, not appearing to like the insult.

Deacon looks at me, nodding as if giving me the floor while locking eyes with me.

He's trusting me to make this choice.

I turn, squaring my shoulders, and deliver the answer we came up with together, relying on his gut.

"Trust Fate," I respond.

That's exactly what we're both doing, handing them our fate.

Please be right.