Chapter 116

Hannah

The arena was packed with people, their voices mingling into an intense din. The crowd mingled like a throng, excited attendees chattering about the next fight on tonight’s roster. The whole place smelled like sweat, beer, and cheap food.

Truth be told, I had never really thought much about the fight club. It was commonplace for werewolves to attend fights like this in our pack—in most packs, really—and was often considered one of the staples of pack life.

But I had never cared much for it. I still didn’t, really, and had really only accepted Drake’s invitation to piss Noah off.

Although, I couldn’t completely deny the way that it got me so excited tonight. It raised my heart rate, made my pupils dilate. Every drop of blood on the ring floor made my veins seem to thrum with anticipation, my wolf bristling inside of me.

Blood. Maybe that was what I needed. Some good, old-fashioned, blood and sweat.

Zoe, of course, had immediately dropped her mask of excitement now that Noah and Drake were gone. She had taken her seat and started scrolling through her phone, tapping her foot on the cement floor, and hadn’t said much of anything to me.

I glanced at the time on my phone and realized that the next fight was about to begin, but on a cursory glance, the crowd was too thick for me to see Noah and Drake headed my way.

“They’ve been gone for some time,” I said, standing on my tiptoes to get a better look.

Zoe glanced up at me from her phone. “You think they got lost?”

I shrugged and tossed her a smirk. “Maybe. They are men, after all.”

To my surprise, Zoe smirked in response to my joke before she returned to her phone once more. Sighing, I stepped out of our box area and began pushing my way through the crowd in search of Noah and Drake.

A few minutes later, I found them standing beside a food stand. Noah was digging through his wallet for some crumpled bills and Drake was standing off to the side with a perturbed look on his face.

“There you guys are.”

Noah grunted something in response. It was as I drew closer, though, that I noticed that something was off—Drake’s brow was furrowed, the front of his shirt slightly rumpled in one spot. He glanced at me, then at Noah, and then over the top of the crowd with a clenched jaw.

Strange. So unlike Drake—usually he was the jovial one.

Before I could ask what was going on, Noah turned and suddenly thrust a soft pretzel and a cup of soda into my hands. “Thanks,” I muttered, taking a sip of the soda. It was cold and crisp, and the carbonated sweetness practically made my pupils dilate.

“Need anything else?” Noah asked. Drake was already grabbing his and Zoe’s beers and pretzels and disappearing into the crowd.

I shook my head and held the cup up a bit. “This is diet, right?” I asked, taking another sip.

Noah pursed his lips. “You don’t need that diet crap. It’s not any better for you than the regular stuff.”

Shocked, I opened my mouth and then closed it again. I had asked for diet soda, not regular. “But the sugar,” I protested, picking up my pace into a jog in order to catch up with Noah’s long strides as he began making his way back to our seats. “It’s too many calories.”

He shot me a withering look over his shoulder, his green eyes roving me up and down—and finally coming to linger on my thighs. My thighs, which, lately, had been a bit more fleshy and were even more pronounced tonight in my tight jeans.

Instantly, I felt my face redden to a tomato when Noah’s gaze lingered there. I couldn’t quite tell if he was judging me or taking a big bite out of me with his eyes. Maybe both? Or neither?

“You’ve gained weight,” he said suddenly, stopping to turn and look at me fully.

My mouth hung open. If my hands hadn’t been full, I would have smacked him. Suddenly, I lost the urge to drink my soda or eat my pretzel, no matter how tantalizing they both looked.

Before I could utter a response, though, he rolled his eyes at me. “Don’t look at me like that, Hannah. That was a compliment.” He paused, his tongue momentarily darting out to wet his lips as his eyes roamed my body for one last fleeting second. “You look… Good. Keep up the good work.”

“You… You think so?” I blurted out, glancing down at my own body now. It was true; I had gained a few pounds. Four pounds, actually. I was still on the fence about it because of that damned little eating disorder voice in the back of my head, but to hear him say that it looked good on me…

He nodded and turned on his heel again. “Yes. So drink the damn soda and eat the pretzel, alright?”

With that, he strode off toward our seats. A tiny smile tugged at my lips as I jogged after him, taking a big bite out of my pretzel.

A few minutes later, the next fight began. The crowd rose into a deafening roar as the two men battled each other in the ring, fists and feet flying. My favorite part was when their fangs dropped and their pace picked up, tapping into the strength of their wolves.

Goddess, how I wished I could do that. I hadn’t borrowed my wolf’s strength in years, and I wasn’t even sure if I could anymore. I hadn’t sparred since I was a kid in training, back when my parents forced me to attend my lessons like all of the other kids.

I hated it back then, but now, I felt a sudden urge to feel that rush for myself again.

Maybe it was impending motherhood that had me wanting to train again; to stay strong if I ever needed to protect my child. If I ever needed to protect myself, too. After all, I wouldn’t have an Alpha husband to be my bodyguard for much longer.

At some point during the fight, Drake leaned close and pointed at the fighters, his shoulder brushing mine.

“See how the guy in red just started pulling his punches?” he asked. “He’s toying with the other guy.”

I nodded, narrowing my eyes to watch intently. “Oh, I see it now,” I said as I watched the fighter in the red shorts start slowing his pace, placing more energy into dodging and egging on the crowd. He was not only trying to tire the other guy out, but also to make a fool out of him in front of everyone—

Suddenly, I felt a warm arm slide around me. In an instant, I was pulled roughly away from Drake and against someone else: Noah. Right up against the hard expanse of his side, so close I could practically feel his pulse thrumming through his skin.

I gasped softly and glanced up at him, my face instantly reddening at the sudden proximity. His expression remained impassive, his jaw set hard above me as he continued to watch the fight.

Something warm radiated out from my lower belly at that. Something deep and primal, yearning and, frankly, pathetic. But I didn’t pull away. I couldn’t bring myself to. Some part of me wouldn’t let me do anything except lean into his warmth, feeling his arm tighten around my waist and his fingers dig into my skin.

Out of instinct or something like it, I glanced over at Drake and Zoe.

But Zoe was gone.