ford

If all had gone wellon the swim over, the rest of the course would have been a breeze.

At least for a wolf in his prime.

Most of the obstacles rely heavily on climbing and upper body strength, things that are only challenging for smaller shifters.

But with b***d loss making my limbs tremble and pain burn through my damaged shoulder, I’ll be lucky to get through this without passing out or falling back into the ocean churning on either side of the course.

The ground is slippery as f**k, which is probably why the rules mandate we complete the obstacles in our human forms. Claws would come in handy right now, and the trial board clearly didn’t want to make this easy. If they had, they would have given us the choice of what form to take. But they didn’t, and I don’t have enough strength left to shift back into my wolf form, anyway.

Just keeping one, thousand-pound foot shuffling forward after the other is taking all my strength and a heavy dose of willpower. My body feels like a lead suit and my spinning head a helium balloon straining toward the sky.

My entire life, I’ve always been able to buckle down and muscle through any challenge, often against impossible odds, but I honestly don’t know if I’ll survive this. All I want to do is lie down on the slick rocks and sleep. Even thinking about how much I want revenge on Beck for attacking me and putting hands on Juliet isn’t enough to keep the fire burning in my belly.

I’m fading, faltering…

Probably dying, though I try not to dwell on the thought. If I do, it’s going to be even harder to keep going.

Once I lose the last flicker of hope, once the last of my fire snuffs out, it’s over.

Still, there’s no reason to let my damaged bag of bones put the people I care about at risk. I tell Layla and Juliet to leave me behind more than once, but they’re as stubborn as they are loyal.

I also tell them both that I love them, because I do—though in very different ways—and because I don’t know if I’ll get another chance. Here, at what might be the end of my life, it’s suddenly very clear that I haven’t said those three words nearly enough. I should have said them every day, to everyone who mattered, because what else is there?

What else is worth living for, dying for, fighting for?

“It’s not revenge,” I mutter, hoping they can hear me over the crash of the waves and the screaming of the sea birds overhead. “It’s love. And I love you guys, I really do.”

“Yeah, we love you, too, buddy,” Layla says, panting as she and Juliet shove me up a sheer metal wall, covered in seagull shit.

I’m going to die with shit on my hands, which seems funny for some reason. I share the observation with the girls and Juliet huffs, “Stop, you’re not dying. You’re not allowed to die.”

“Not true.” They continue to push me higher, and I curl my shaking hands over the top of the wall. “Everyone dies, but not everyone lives. You gotta live, you guys. Both of you. You gotta tell people how you feel and go after your dreams. Because you’re good people. The world needs more good people. Too many people are just selfish, stupid…d**k slices.”

“D**k slices?” Layla echoes.

“Ignore him,” Juliet says, grunting as she pulls herself over the top of the wall in front of me to help ease me down on the other side. “He’s drunk on b***d loss.”

“I’m not drunk,” I slur. “I just have love in my heart, Growly. Don’t shun my love while I’m dying.”

Juliet catches me as my feet touch down on the ground beside the wall, holding me up when my knees almost buckle. Then she grips my face in both of her hands and whispers, “Don’t talk like that. I’m serious. I can’t deal with it right now. You aren’t going to die on me.”

“I might,” I whisper back. “It feels…strained inside, Jules. Like the seams are fraying and the pieces might not hold.”

Her eyes blaze into mine. “This isn’t the time for poetry. This is the time for reaching down deep and pushing through to the finish line. All we have to do is get to the top of the cliffs, then you can fall apart with doctors right there to fix you.”

I start to speak again but she cuts me off with a k**s.

It’s a soft, but firm seal of her lips over mine that makes my weary heart beat faster. And when she pulls back, whispering, “And I love you, too, you jerk,” my legs feel steadier than they were before.

“Why is he a jerk?” Layla asks as she plops down beside us.

I smile and rasp, “Because I made her have feelings. She hates feelings.”

“That’s right,” Juliet says, her gaze still locked on mine. “And the only thing worse than having sappy, scary love feelings is having ‘my best friend died’ feelings. So, step it up, soldier. We’re over halfway through. You’re going to make it. It’s a done deal.”

The drunk part of me wants to ask if I’m really her best friend. And if I’m just her friend or if that confession meant something more. I want to know if she needs me the way I need her, but the survivor in me has enough common sense to conserve my energy. That’s a big conversation we don’t have time for right now.

Juliet is right. We’re past the halfway point.

We might actually make it to the finish line. We’re going to be dead last—all the other waves of students passed us long ago, even Gertie the squirrel shifter with the scrawny arms—but that doesn’t matter. We just have to make it to the cliffs and complete the trial to pass.

The thought gives me the strength to scramble over a giant pile of rocks, mostly on my own, and inch across the slick, narrow piece of wood connecting the course to the base of the cliffs.

But when we stop, staring up at the maze of connecting ladders leading to the top, my heart drops back into my stomach.

“It’s over, guys,” I say, hating being the voice of doom, but knowing it’s the truth. “I can’t climb that alone and there’s no way you can carry me up ten ladders.”

“We’re not carrying you up ten ladders,” Juliet says. “We’re carrying you up one ladder, ten times.”

“One rung at a time,” Layla agrees. “And we can rest on the cliffs in between. There are places where it’s wide enough to sit and catch your breath.”

I sigh, but before I can speak, Juliet says, “This is how we survived the terrible stuff, remember? One day at a time, one hour at a time, one minute at a time.”

“One second at a time,” I mutter.

“If that’s what you need to do,” Juliet says. “But we haven’t come this far to stop now. We have to try, Ford. Just…try. For me.”

Because I can deny her nothing, I reach for the first rung. But even lifting my left arm is enough to make the pain almost unbearable. I wince and curse, sweat breaking out on my upper l*p as I say, “I’ll have to do it one-handed.”

“Piece of cake,” Juliet says, starting up the ladder in front of me.

“Yeah,” Layla agrees as she positions herself behind me. “They should have made all the big, strong Alpha wolves do the course one-handed anyway. Even the playing field for the little guys. Can you imagine swimming all the way to the seawall as a squirrel. Or a rabbit?”

“If I fall, move out of the way,” I tell her as I reach for the ladder again. “Don’t let me take you down with me.”

Layla pats my back. “Sure thing, buddy.”

“You’re lying,” I mutter.

She grins. “You said it yourself, man. I’m a good person. I’m also super heroic. You may not have noticed this about me just yet, but it’s true. And as a hero type person, I am obligated to heroically save your a*s.”

“Same,” Juliet says, reaching a hand down from the top of the ladder. “Just climb high enough to reach me and I’ll pull you up the rest of the way. Then it’s only half a ladder ten times.”

“And we’re almost done with one,” Layla says cheerfully behind me as I make my way up the ladder at a wounded snail’s pace.

But in less than ten minutes, we’re resting on the first ledge, one tenth of the way to the top. And I’m not much worse off than I was before. Ladders two and three pass with a similar rhythm, but ladder four is longer, ladder five through seven are missing rails, and ladder eight is nailed into the stone at a diagonal.

Navigating it would be tricky without an injury. With my bum arm, I barely make it over to the next ledge, and that’s only with a last-minute intervention from Layla shoving my a*s as Juliet grabs me around the shoulders and drags me up onto the rock beside her.

“Flashed,” I pant, sweating and shaking in her arms.

“What’s that?” she asks, smoothing my hair from my forehead.

“My life,” I say, breath still coming in harsh rasps. “Flashed before my eyes. Twice.”

“Only twice?” Layla quips, collapsing beside us. “Thought we were going to lose you that time, man. Not going to lie.” She exhales a long, shaky breath. “Tell me that’s the worst of it, J.”

“Absolutely.” Juliet hugs my back closer to her chest without sparking any response from my nervous system, proving I’m fading fast.

Even in a life-or-death situation, I’d usually be very aware that the woman I’m crazy about is naked and close. But all I feel is grateful for her touch.

It’s the only thing giving me strength right now.

I tilt my head back, the sight of the endless ninth ladder and the final ladder—also set into the rock diagonally—making my chest feel hollow. Once again, I seriously doubt I’m going to make it, but I don’t say anything. Juliet has made it clear she expects people under her command to achieve their goals or die trying.

Arguing would only be a waste of what energy I have left.

“You’re going to be a great military major,” I wheeze. “Pretty sure you were born for it.”

“Pretty princess on the outside, scary as hell general on the inside,” Layla agrees.

“Save the sweet talk and compliments for the top,” Juliet says. “Come on. Let’s get up nine and take a longer rest before ten. By then, we’ll be close enough to call up to the top and tell them to get the medics ready.”

“They have to know by now,” Layla says, shielding her eyes from the sun as she squints up at the top of the cliffs. “Surely, they’ve seen us struggle-bussing all the way through the course.”

“But they might not know how serious the injury is,” Juliet says. “Or that it wasn’t an accident. We’ll fill them in, and they’ll help.”

I’m not sure they will, and I doubt Juliet honestly believes they will, either, but I play along in the name of keeping hope alive. Right now, it’s all we’ve got. “She’s right. Let’s go. We’re almost there.”

I’m pretty sure ladder nine is some circle of hell. It goes on and on forever, while my right arm becomes increasingly fatigued and my wounded shoulder screams to be put out of its misery. On at least three separate occasions, I’m positive I’ve reached the end of my physical endurance, only for a word from Layla or a look from Juliet to keep me going just one more rung.

Just one more and then one more and finally, we’re at the top.

I collapse onto the ledge, shocked to feel tears slipping down my cheeks.

Juliet swipes them away with a dispassionate efficiency I appreciate. “It’s just the pain,” she says. “And shock. You’re probably going into shock. Just hang in there a little longer, okay? We’re so close.”

I manage a small nod—the most communication I’m capable of after that climb—and sag against the side of the cliff as she calls up to the top, “Get the medics ready, guys. Ford was attacked by another member of Lupine house in the water. He’s seriously injured and needs medical help.”

We wait for a response, but the only sound is the harsh rasp of my breath and the faint crash of the waves below.

Layla sighs and mutters something beneath her breath I can’t make out.

Juliet calls out again, but I stop her halfway through with a hand on her wrist and another shake of my head. She holds my gaze, and for a beat I see the fear eating away inside her. She recovers quickly, her inner general taking control again as she helps me to my feet, insisting that we’re almost there anyway, so we might as well finish up.

But it’s too late.

I’ve seen the truth in her eyes. Juliet isn’t sure I’m going to make it. In fact, I’m pretty sure she’s shocked I’ve made it this far.

There’s a very real chance this last diagonal ladder is going to take me down. I know it, she knows it, and Layla certainly isn’t a fool.

So, as I sway unsteadily to my feet, I rest a hand on Layla’s shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze of thanks. She nods in response, her throat working as she swallows, “Of course, Ford. Any time.”

Then, I turn to Juliet, cup her face in my hand, and k**s her the way I wish I could have kissed her more often. I k**s her with my heart on my sleeve and in my touch and pulsing in the air around us. I k**s her the way I would have kissed her on our wedding day, just in case…

In case that day never comes.

In case this is really goodbye.