MARKED | COMPLETED

Chapter 3

I was surprised to find Colin at my door this morning. In the last few days, we were being trained harder—we were being pushed to the extreme, so Colin and I no longer took the time after training to talk. We went straight home, exhausted, our limbs and muscles burning from the pain.

To find him standing at my door in the morning, just as I was about to leave, was surprising, to say the least.

He bore a half-cocked scowl, his red hair all mussed up from what I guess was tossing and turning. I quickly realized that he was still in his pajamas: a pair of sweats and an old white tee. He shrugged his shoulders, stepping into my house before I could invite him in.

"My number was eight, Retriever," Colin said as he sat down.

When he didn't continue talking, I assumed that he wanted me to cut in, to tell him something good that would cheer him up. But for the moment I had no idea what he was talking about. When on the subject of numbers, I had no idea what eight meant for him. I closed the door behind me, shrugging.

"I don't get it." I shrugged. "What does that mean?"

"Eight. Eight people will think I'll live."

"Oh."

I didn't forget about the betting pool either. It was still on my mind, just like his. Ten people bet that I would live—eleven if I counted Alpha Aisling's vote—and that number terrified me. Of course, not everyone participated in the bets, but still. Only ten? How many people thought that I wouldn't last through my Shifting? How many thought that I would die?

I stood in front of Colin.

"It doesn't mean anything, Maclerry."

He scoffed. "But you almost beat up Deering for it. It does mean something! Only eight! I get that I'm not the healthiest kid in our pack, but come on!"

Well, that part was very true. But in the last few days, he proved to be getting stronger. He was actually able to keep up with the strict training regimen that Brom had written out for us. He was getting better.

But that number had a tendency to make you feel like all that effort didn't count; all those times that Colin took me down during training didn't matter when all he could see was eight. Eight people believed that he would survive, but the only thing he could think about was how many people thought he wouldn't.

I wasn't the best at consoling people. With Meyer's family, all I could do was stand behind Reece and let him do all the talking. Right now, I wasn't sure if I should offer a comforting hand to his shoulder, or to give him some sort of pep talk. I was good at neither.

Instead, I just shrugged.

"I think you'll live, if that means anything," I said.

"Thanks." The sound of his voice made me assume that my supposedly helpful words hadn't helped him at all.

"Maybe we'll both survive," I told him, moving to sit down beside him on the couch. "Maybe the Fates will let us both live."

He gave me an incredulous look. "Do you have any idea how unlikely that is?" he asked.

I couldn't say anything about that.

With the strength of the pack deteriorating, the chances of all the participants surviving were slim to none. Surviving the Shifting was so important, but it made the Shifting itself terrifying. I've been told all of my life that this was important, that it was vital—but more importantly, the Shifting is something that you will be so happy to experience.