The walk back toward our quarters was anything but quiet. The streets of the pack still buzzed with life after the day's contests, and Isla and I carried the heat of attention wherever we went.

Stares followed us—some curious, some openly respectful, others dripping with disdain or jealousy. Whispers rose and fell like waves. I could almost taste the bitterness in some voices, men muttering about how I'd stolen victories that belonged to the males they supported, women muttering about how I dared to walk as if I owned the place.

Chauvinistic fools.

Isla kept her chin lifted, her arm brushing mine as though shielding me, though she had no...