25 | Assassin

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"K—kill?" Savannah sputtered. "I thought it was 'capture the Alpha'?"

"Haven't you realised anything by now?" Zion grew irritated, pacing back and forth in front of her like a restless lion. "The war is only just beginning. Everything else tonight was just preparation. These games are held as a way to remember grudges. To settle old scores. We have licence to kill an enemy all in the name of the game, and no one will bat an eye. I have plenty of enemies here tonight, all eager to get rid of me and leave their mark by doing so. Your insolence in standing up to Regan and questioning his authority has just painted an even bigger target on our back."

His solemn words caused Savannah to cringe and shrink in on herself. The way Zion was looking at her was scary, with the knowledge that his anger was directed at her. The dark gleam in his eyes and the hard set of his jaw was enough to send any wolf running, but she, an Alpha who would normally stand up under such harsh appraisal, found herself quivering with fear. Most of it was from the brunt of his rebuke.

She realised she really had made a mistake by confronting Regan, the clear leader of all rogues.

"I was afraid something like this would happen," Zion continued, his voice rough with irritation, "That your impetuous mouth would land us all in trouble."

His words stung, the loss of Zion's good opinion of her hurting more than Calista's silver poison had. But that didn't mean he was right. "I'm sorry my words might bring you harm, but I don't regret what I said to Regan." Savannah crossed her arms stubbornly and continued, "Can't you see he's perpetuating the idea that Lunas are easy targets, and we should just go after them for sport? He's a menace to all werewolf society."

Zion waved his arm in a broad motion. "Look around us, Savannah. We're all rogues. It's in our very nature to be a menace. What did you expect from tonight? That we'd all be sitting around a campfire, singing songs, playing Chinese whispers, and toasting damn marshmallows?"

"I happen to love toasted marshmallows--"

"We don't have time for this!" he practically growled in her face. "We have to get into position stat if we want a chance at winning."

Rolling her eyes, Savannah watched as the gang complied, Phoenix shouldering his bag before walking off into the shadowy trees with this team. "Who exactly are we targeting?" she hated to ask, but disliked even more being kept in the dark about everything.

"Regan. Who else?"

That response was not what she was expecting. "Are you sure that's the brightest idea? He clearly has it in for us and won't make it easy."

"He's never easy," Zion chuckled wryly. "He's not the highest ranked wolf for no reason. We'll get the most points by capturing him."

"Highest ranking? Most points?" Savannah suddenly had no idea what Zion was talking about.

With an impatient sigh, he replied tersely, "Every gang leader is ranked according to past performance in the wars. Regan is first."

"So let's just leave him for someone else. Wouldn't it be better if we lay low and remained undetected?"

"That's not really an option now. Besides, I'm ranked second, so we were always going to be a hot target."

The fact her mate was second strongest among all rogues on the continent was pleasing to her ears, albeit in a slightly troubling way. Her next thought was, why couldn't he be first? She'd seen how strong and ruthless Zion was, and couldn't imagine him taking orders from the pretentious Regan. "I still don't like this," she worried her bottom lip between her teeth.

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