Chapter Thirty-Four
Cricket screamed the same time as Radley did. She’d seen it, the moment the Ferrari had kicked ahead of the BMW and earning them the win. There would likely be videos of it, replays to make sure, but it was clear.
The fae team won the Race Games.
Cricket slammed on her brakes, the violently shaking of the car slowing until it disappeared completely. There was a slight clank in the engine, a sign that she was on her last leg, but Cricket didn’t care. The engine could be fixed. Nothing could compare to the euphoria of winning.
Slowing the car down just enough to be safe, Cricket pulled the e-brake and sent the Ferrari into a victory donut in the middle of the road, tires screeching, smoke billowing, the smell of burnt rubber reaching their nostrils. The demon team carried on passed them, slowing their own car before stopping ahead of them and out of the way. The crowd in the stands around the finish line shouted their excitement as Cricket came to a stop and she climbed through her open window, not bothered to open the door. She threw her helmet off and tossed it in the driver’s seat. She probably had a serious case of helmet hair, her blond locks wild around her face, but she didn’t care.
She held up her hands in victory, her wings unfurling behind her as she dropped the glamour, and the crowd cheered louder just as the large TVs around them flashed to the glee on her face and the word “Winner” scrawled across. They’d checked the footage and confirmed what she’d seen.
“We won!” she screamed with the crowd.
Radley dragged himself through his own window, laughter tumbling from his lips as he saw the crowd. After everything they’d faced, after it all, they’d won by a single millisecond. The screens replayed the moment they crossed the finish line, the moment they won by just a hint of the car. A tiny win, but a win regardless. There was no question of who had taken the race.
Cricket leapt around the car as Radley pulled his helmet off. He tossed the helmet into the street just as Cricket threw herself into his arms, her wings fluttering excitedly behind her. The tiny metal pieces along her wings clicked as they did so. Radley spun her around as they shouted with the crowd, as they celebrated the win. Her father was standing on the sidelines, watching them. Cricket could feel his gaze on the way they embraced but she didn’t care. She was too high on life in that moment, the adrenaline of winning coursing through her blood.
The demon team climbed from their car, the two men staring at them with narrowed eyes, and for a moment, Cricket forgot the moment they’d tried to shoot her. The Games had no rules, but they’d won fair and square. There was no longer a reason to fight, no longer a way to act without consequences. Eyes were on them from all sides, the cameras, the crowd, the council. They all sat watching them as they stood in the street.
Too full of glee to see it, Cricket saluted the two demons with a smile. “No hard feelings,” she called.
The driver scowled, his face twisted with the features of his demonic race. Radley tensed beside her even as he sat her gently back on her feet.
“All hard feelings,” the demon said and pulled the pistol out again. “This is for Beezlebub.”
Cricket had no time to move—she didn’t have that fast of reflexes with her wings out—but Radley did. The gun fired, the bullet flying through the air before Cricket could even shout, but she didn’t need to. Radley slammed in front of her, his large body protecting everything but her wings, but the demon had been aiming for her heart, a potentially deadly attack. Fae could heal, but a heart wound from what was likely a lead bullet would certainly kill her before anyone could render aid.
The bullet slammed into Radley’s chest. Cricket screamed as the demon stalked forward, firing off seven more shots. She’d had enough foresight to tuck her wings in tight, but Cricket shrieked as each bullet slammed into Radley’s chest, making him flinch with each impact as he protected her.
The crowd went silent.
Her father stood off to the side, ordering someone out to come get her, but Cricket latched onto Radley, desperately trying to pull him back. He’d been hit eight times, with bullets meant for her.
“Radley!” she shrieked.
He shook with something. It took her a few seconds too long to realize it was anger and not because he was about to drop. Radley stood tall, growing taller as he shifted into a half form she’d never seen a wolf take. She stumbled back as the bullets plinked to the ground before him, his wounds healing. His fingers sharpened to claws, his legs bending backward to add an extra joint, fur sprouting, until he stood as a great hulking creature breathing out fury.
“Not silver,” Radley growled in a voice not his own as the final bullet dropped to the ground. “Big mistake.”
With a savage snarl that the entire crowd flinched back from, Radley shot forward. The demon tried to run. He got so far as a single step before Radley’s long claws dug into his shoulder and jerked him backward. With strength she didn’t realize he had, the alpha ripped the demon in half before taking a literal bite out of the second one. Gore went everywhere, entrails that Cricket would have preferred not to see. The crowd gasped in shock, but Cricket didn’t move as the hulking alpha wolf turned back toward her once he’d finished off the demons. It had taken all of ten seconds but it felt like it was longer as the black blood oozed along the asphalt. Still, she didn’t back away.
Seeing him from the front, blood coating him like some sort of warrior, Radley was the monster most children feared. His facial features were canine, as was much of the rest of him, but he stood on two legs like a man and had the muscle mass of one. She’d heard of some alphas being able to command their shift so thoroughly to go in between forms, but she didn’t realize how much control he could have.
The crowd cheered at the show of gore, as blood thirsty as always, and they gasped in shock as the werewolf took a step toward her. Distantly, behind her, Cricket could hear her father shouting for someone to come save her, but she didn’t need to be saved anymore. Radley would never hurt her. He’d already taken away the threat.
He was all beast as he took another step forward, before beginning to shift back into human. His jumpsuit was in tatters when he returned back to his old self, barely hanging on around his waist. The top half was practically gone, leaving his bloody chest gloriously on display. He was covered in ichor and pieces she’d prefer not to study too closely. There was a feralness about him she’d never seen before as he stared at her and panted, waiting for her reaction. His eyes flashed wildly for all the supernatural world to see through their TVs. If he expected her to fear him after that, he was seriously mistaken. He’d saved her. He’d taken eight bullets for her. How could she ever fear someone like that?
Cricket threw herself across the distance between them without thinking, leaping into his arms. They wrapped around her without complaint, lifting her high and taking all her weight on his own. He was always taking her weight, her very own Atlas, and she couldn’t imagine life without him. Not anymore.
On live television, for all of the world to see, Cricket Snapdragon, heir to the Snapdragon name, kissed the werewolf alpha of the Chesapeake Clan.
The world around them exploded with cheers.