Chapter 12: It’s The Triples For Me

"Everybody wave to the princess! That includes you, Tavian."

Tavian joined the waving.

"Landon."

"No."

"Fair enough. Want to see a cool trick instead?"

"No."

"Blink and you’ll miss it." Derek’s wave went full windmill. Arms out. Hands like billboards. The whole thing was a NOTICE ME sign you could see from space.

Thunderfang pack members started to windmill, copying Derek. Tavian shrugged and joined in. Landon pinched the bridge of his nose.

The crowd lost its mind. A Wavecrest warrior started to windmill. Emberclaw sent two wolves as backup. Then Solarbeam stood as a pack and the last adult in the building died. It took five seconds to spread arena-wide. Every pack. Both arms. No survivors.

Celeste turned back to the Starborne section, where her standing ovation was guaranteed. Her jaw dropped. They gave her a windmill instead. Kai was participating like this was his calling. Only her parents abstained.

Across the arena, Landon’s face was doing the ’how the fuck did I get here’ thing. "Are you done?"

Derek dropped into his chair, crossed his arms, and settled. "For now."

Tavian wiped his eyes. "That was the single greatest performance I’ve ever witnessed in a public venue."

"Don’t encourage him," Landon snapped.

The elder raised his hand and the runes on every column flashed.

"Category One: Endurance. Celeste Starborne, 97th percentile."

Her score flashed on the jumbotron nice and big.

The humor left Derek’s face for exactly one second, like a door opening onto a room he kept locked, and then it closed again and the smirk was back and the show was back and the version of himself that the world was allowed to see was back in the chair where it belonged.

Tavian caught the flicker. "Regrets on the horse?"

"Do I regret betting your life savings on a girl I’ve never met who’s currently dressed like a haunted sleeping bag? No. Next question."

The highlight reel started.

By minute two, Tavian’s head dropped into his hands looking like a man watching his financial future get windmilled to death.

"Are you crying?"

"No."

By minute five, Tavian had rediscovered religion.

"If I die before this ends, scatter my ashes somewhere interesting," Derek commented, yawning so wide that Tavian heard his jaw pop mid-prayer.

"This is the longest one of the day, Derek."

"Good for her. Bad for my attention span."

"You mean bad for this guy." Tavian pointed at himself. "Right here."

By minute seven, Tavian was shaking his head no at nothing, on a loop, like the motion might undo the bet. It did not.

Derek sipped his drink and leaned back in his chair. "Oh, lighten up. I’ll pay you back if we lose."

"Not if. When. Say when."

"When I’m right, you’ll owe me a favor."

When the highlight reel ended, Tavian was gripping his armrest like it owed him forty thousand tokens while staring into his beer like it was his only friend who hadn’t betrayed him.

"Hey, Tav."

"No."

"Look up."

"I’d rather look at the sun."

Tavian took the deepest sip of his life. Then he looked.

REGISTRATION #7709 — ENDURANCE: 99.9TH PERCENTILE

The beer exited Tavian’s mouth at a velocity that suggested his body had rejected the information before his brain could process it. It went everywhere. Shirt. Lap. The pack below.

Derek turned to Tavian with his hand extended and a grin that belonged on a man handing someone a check they didn’t know was coming.

"Congratulations, Tav. You are a millionaire."

Tavian stared at the hand. Stared at the scoreboard. Stared at the cloaked figure standing at center-arena who had just dropped a 99.9 in silver cuffs that should have made anything above the tenth percentile miraculous.

"Welcome to the club, brother." Derek grabbed Tavian’s hand and shook it. "Big day for you. Huge. Life-changing, really. I’d start thinking about what you’re going to do with all that money. Personally, I’d invest in real estate, but that’s me."

Tavian’s mouth was open. Words had been scheduled but failed to arrive.

"He’s emotional," Derek told Landon. "Give him a minute."

Landon was not giving anyone a minute. "You put forty thousand Helix points on a slave in silver who happened to hit the 99th percentile."

"I had a feeling."

"Bullshit," Landon said. "You do realize they are going to do a replay here, right?"

Derek clutched his heart. "Are you implying I bribed the jumbotron just to play an elaborate prank on Tavian?"

Tavian spit out his beer again. "Derek, I swear to all the gods—"

"I didn’t," Derek cut him off. "But if I did, it would go down as the top prank in Thunderfang history."

Landon shook his head. "Derek. Tell me right now, did you rig something? Do I need to go do damage control?"

"Relax." Derek put a hand on Landon’s shoulder. "I got you in the intelligence category too. If she wins, you collect even more. I put fifty on it."

"Fifty of my Helix tokens."

"Fifty thousand," Derek corrected.

Landon cracked a smile for the first time in three hours and took a sip of his drink. "You’re joking."

"Sure," Derek said before turning to Tavian. "Now, about that favor. There are a few things that I’m going to need from you today, actually. The first one I already did for you."

Tavian was still on the word prank and genuinely couldn’t tell if Derek was being sarcastic. Then he saw his face on the jumbotron.

"What did you do, Derek?"

"You just bought all of the Wavecrest pack full snacks so they don’t miss the show."

The Wavecrest pack waved at the Thunderfang pack and screamed "Thank you, Beta Tavian" in unison. A twelve-year old had two meat skewers in one hand and was waving the other at Tavian like he’d just met a celebrity. His father grabbed him by the collar and pulled him back into his seat, still smiling.

Tavian tipped his drink at the jumbotron back to them.

"You also got the Starborne pack beverages."

"I did?"

"Yes. I noticed they have zero pups present at the ceremony. They are the only pack like that, actually. So I figured, why the hell not."

The Starborne section waved like a pack who had just discovered joy. Alpha Starborne sat motionless with his arms crossed. Kai was grinning ear to ear, waving back with his pack.

"Low key." Derek dropped his voice. "I think they’re confused because they are chugging those. Someone should tell them those are triples."

Landon exhaled once through his nose and somehow the temperature in the Thunderfang section dropped two degrees. "You’re either a genius or a liability. There is never an in-between."

"And this time what am I?"

"A liability," Landon said flatly. "Lucian Starborne looks like he’s ready to murder someone."

"Lucian Starborne deciding to stay sober while his entire pack gets hammered sounds like a him problem."

"How much did that cost me?"

"You? Nothing. Tavian? Also nothing. I used the snack budget and put it in Tavian’s name."

"We have a snack budget?"

"We did. Keep up, Landon."

Derek went still. Not his usual still. A different still. The beer in his hand tilted, poured onto his boot, and he didn’t move. Tavian had never seen Derek waste alcohol. Ever.

"Derek?"

Derek didn’t look at him. "No. This is wrong. They didn’t ask her to de-cloak first."

"What is a de-cloak?"

Derek didn’t answer. His eyes were on the arena floor that was starting to shimmer.