He instinctively turned toward the source—and in that split second, Greg seized the opportunity. His foot slammed into Zion's side. Though Zion managed to block most of the force, the impact still sent him skidding several feet across the dirt, his boots carving a long trail in the ground.
"Alpha Zion, I won," Greg declared smugly, brushing imaginary dust off his hands.
Zion's brows furrowed. It wasn't exactly a dignified victory—but a loss was still a loss. He said nothing, simply nodding in acknowledgment, though a flicker of irritation crossed his face.
His gaze drifted toward the source of the distraction—a woman passing by, laughing beside a man. The sight made his frown deepen.
"Z-Zion! Are you alright?!" Claire rushed over, her hands protectively cradling her pregnant belly, her eyes full of concern. She studied his face, confused by the faraway look in his eyes.
When he didn't respond, she called again, more gently this time. "Zion?"
