Chapter Eleven
Daylight faded slowly until long shadows forced me to use the bedside lamp in order to make out the soft scrawls that filled the pages of the pack’s law book. Page after dusty page held handwritten notes scribed in varying versions of English from Olde to modern to legal contract language. The rules and customs of these people were endless and, at times, contradicting. But the running theme throughout was that the alpha was the final word. Every time. If I hadn’t seen a council meeting first hand and watched the alpha allow others to speak their minds—including disagreements—I would have been convinced this was a very oppressive dictatorship.
The more I read, the tighter my nerves twisted. Not only was there absolutely no sign of a loophole for this contest business, my future was about to become very different than my past. Regan had been right. It was normal for us to be taken from public school from high school on. Pack responsibilities came first. There were entire chapters dedicated to hunting and others to patrolling and what to do if a trespasser stumbled upon our side of the territory line. How to handle challenges to your pack position. Politics. Elections for elder officers. You name it, the book had it. All except the marriage thing. That had never been done.
But vampires. Monsters. Freaks of nature—the book described them as all of these—were not scarce. I lingered over that section, wanting to learn all I can, but it only listed the basics about their makeup: They drank blood to survive. Sunlight didn’t harm them but it did tire them more quickly. They were our natural enemy. Our wolves literally tasted the need for violence when we smelled their kind. It was built in to destroy them. Underneath that, the book laid out different ways to kill them.
I scanned those lines with a subtle sickness roiling my gut. I wanted to know but I also didn’t. That vampire in the woods had been my friend. Tonight, they wouldn’t be. But Regan had warned me against lashing out. Tonight we were here to make peace.
My eyes caught on the last line of every technique. Apparently, burning them was the only way to assure their destruction. Great, so Hollywood had at least gotten that part right.
At the sound of a sharp knock, I flinched and snapped the thick volume shut.
“Yes?” I called.
Brent poked his head inside, his eyes flickering from me to the book that lay on the mattress in front of me. Finally, I caught him check my bedside clock. “You should start preparing for tonight,” he said. “They’ll be expecting you soon.”
“Right,” I said, startled to realize how late it had gotten while I read. “I’ll be ready,” I added, shoving the book aside as Brent slipped out again.
I got up and went to the window, nerves tightening further as I spotted all of the foot traffic coming and going on the foot path that ran parallel to my side of the house. Carts and coolers and men in black pants and crisp button-ups trickled steadily back and forth toward what I’d heard them refer to as the back acre.
Dad was going all out for this thing. My engagement party. I wrinkled my nose and turned back, sighing as I went to the closet to retrieve my dress. A plum number Regan had brought up this morning. It wasn’t a color I would’ve chosen for myself. It suited her more. I suspected it might’ve once been hers.
My first hand-me-down, I realized with a frown.
I dressed quickly.
The moment it was dark, they would expect me to come downstairs, walk through the neighborhood under the scrutiny of dozens of expectant eyes, and meet the mortal enemies of a pack I didn’t want to have anything to do with. To prevent war, bloodshed, and the death of a hundred innocent lives, I reminded myself. Somewhere along the way in my reading, I’d realized how close to that we really were. Regan was convinced these monsters had killed her mom. The history in that book had taught me what a betrayal that was. Not just taking a life—the life of an alpha was precious enough to warrant swift and harsh retaliation. In fact, I was surprised they hadn’t done anything about it yet.
Maybe Dad was right; this marriage was the only thing holding the violence at bay.
“No pressure,” I whispered to my empty room.
That wasn’t even the thing that had me the most stressed, although I guess the whole war thing should have been the worst of my worries. The idea of death and destruction sucked. But more than all of that, I was breathless with the idea of possibly seeing my stranger in the woods again. Did he know anything about Regan’s mom’s murder?
I stood at the mirror toying with my hair and trying not to think about any of it. But the more I attempted anything fancy, the more nervous I became. I needed Mom. She’d always been my hairstylist. Finally, my hair fully rebelled and I gave up. I’d wear it down.
And maybe tomorrow, I’d finally call her. Let her explain herself. And find a way to tell her that despite being kidnapped and forced into this, I’d gone completely crazy and decided to stay. That last part had held me back from dialing her for days now.
I took a final look at my reflection, squaring my shoulders in an attempt at a power pose. I thought of Regan and how she didn’t need to do anything different to power pose. It was already built in somehow. At that, my shoulders slumped.
Someone moved behind my reflection and I whirled, eyes wide. Regan stood in my doorway, hand still hovering on the knob.
“Sorry,” she said. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”
“It’s fine, I was just … finishing up with my dress. It’s lovely,” I said.
She nodded but otherwise ignored the gift. “The alpha is an important figure in a lot of ceremonies. We had to make sure you looked the part.”
The part. I thought again of the power pose and noted how she stood naturally with shoulders back, chin up. Embarrassment washed over me. I felt as though she’d caught me dressing up in Mom’s clothes.
“You look great,” I said in an attempt to shift the spotlight.
And she did. My sister looked amazing—every inch the alpha. Her dress was practical. It had a scoop neck, lacing up the front, and a loose skirt that was made for movement. Sparkly gemstones were pinned to her short hair that matched the detail on her breast. The brown material should have made her look plain, but instead, it made her look mature and powerful.
Insecurity gnawed at me. I would never look that self-assured. Maybe they were all right to assume she would win the alpha contest.
“Thanks,” she said, a half-smile pulling one side of her lips up in what looked like a mixture of surprise and pleasure. “The rest of your things were brought up at lunch. Did you find them?”
“My things?” I asked in confusion. Did she mean the homecoming dress they’d brought me here in? That thing had to have been trashed after everything—
“Dad ordered some new things for you until you could shop for yourself,” Regan explained. “They’re in the wardrobe. I assumed you would’ve found them by now or I would’ve told you earlier. Your mom helped pick them out.”
“My mom?” I said, crossing to the wardrobe and yanking it open. Some part of me half-expected her to be in there along with the clothes. It was silly, but my heart sank anyway at seeing only fabric hanging. Still, even at first glance I saw that it was high-quality fabrics.
“Thank you. Wow,” I said, fingering through the blouses and dresses hanging inside. “These are great.”
“Dad said your mom ordered from your favorite store.”
“He spoke to her?” I asked, turning sharply.
“Sure. We wanted to let her know you were all right,” Regan said. “You still haven’t called her, have you?” she asked, her voice gentling.
“No,” I said, staring down at my fingers twisting in front of me. Guilt pricked at me over it, but not as heavy as before. At least she knew I was all right.
“I’m sure she’ll be glad to hear from you, when you’re ready,” Regan offered.
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t tell her I wasn’t ready. Not when I knew she’d never be able to talk to her own again. It didn’t seem right to complain about mine. I looked through the wardrobe again and my eyes caught on a lacy dress far in the back.
I yanked the other hangers aside and traced my fingers down the bodice of a finely beaded white dress. It took me a few seconds and a full sweep of the garment to realize what it was. “Wait. Is this…?” I snapped my hand away as Regan came up beside me.
“That’s for the wedding,” she said quietly, confirming my worst fears. I looked up and found my terror mirrored back at me in her expression. “There wouldn’t be time to have one made between the end of the competition and the ceremony, so we both have one. Just in case.”
My stomach flip-flopped with nerves. I already had my wedding dress. This was too weird.
“I don’t know if…” I stopped, struggling to form the words without also giving way to tears. “I decided to stay and do this but … every time I think I can, something else happens and—” I broke off, but Regan nodded.
“If it makes you feel any better, I feel the same way,” she said.
I attempted a smile. “It does. Thank you.”
She searched my face, but instead of intrusive, her onceover felt friendly. Almost caring. “Is there anything else you need before tonight…?”
I sniffled—the only evidence of my freak out, which was progress for me. “I couldn’t find any mascara anyway.”
“Sure. I left you some things in the vanity. Waterproof?” she asked.
“Please,” I said with a wry smile.
“Let me help you.” Regan moved through my room, collecting makeup from the bathroom I hadn’t known was there and helping me with the top button of the dress. Afterward, she did my hair with deft fingers, piling some of it on top of my head and leaving the rest loose.
I stared at the wall over her shoulder while she swept liner along my eyelid. She smelled like powder and soil, beautiful but earthy.
“Don’t worry,” she said in a gentle voice as she worked. “Tonight’s going to be easy.”
“Easy?” I gave a shaky laugh. “I think we have different definitions of the word.”
Regan smiled tightly. “Open your mouth and look up.”
I obeyed, and she finished the rest of my eye makeup just as swiftly and confidently as she had done my hair. Once the lip gloss was brushed on, she stepped back to let me see myself in the mirror again.
The reflection looked nothing like me.
I scrutinized myself in the mirror, turning my chin this way and that so I could see my hair and face from all angles. I looked like a stranger, someone not-quite-Charlie, like maybe Regan had cloned herself with longer hair. When I straightened my back and held my shoulders straight, I passed for confident. Almost like an alpha, too.
I just hoped it would be enough for whatever was expected of me. Now that it was time, the nerves returned, full force now. I clamped down and lectured myself about not throwing up.
“You look good,” Regan said, breaking my reverie.
“Yeah. I guess,” I said, terror leaching away at my confidence already.
Disappointment flashed across her face, then vanished fast enough that I thought I might have imagined it. “We should get going,” she said.
“Hey, Regan,” I called and she paused in the doorway. “I was wondering … I mean, I read over the book you sent up and couldn’t find anything about this…”
“What is it?” she asked.
“Our contest for alpha. They say it’s required to determine the new leader, but what if I refuse? I mean, forfeit. Wouldn’t they just give it to you and then I’m beta and no one has to fight about it?”
Regan’s expression didn’t lift like I’d hoped. There was no relief as she regarded me, nothing like I’d hoped. “That’s not—It doesn’t work like that, Charlie,” she said and I could hear the regret in her voice.
“How does it work then?” I asked.
“If you forfeit you would lose your place here. They would remove you. Send you home.”
“Well, I mean, what’s so bad about that?” I asked, and even without asking I knew there was a catch coming. It was in her tone.
“You would never be allowed to return or have communication with any of us. Including your family. And … I would…” She sighed.
“You would what?” I prompted. “What happens to you?”
“The Vuk line would no longer have a rightful claim to the alpha role. It would pass to the next in line,” she said, pain twisting her words and her expression. It was easy to see how much it cost her even to consider the possibility and my heart panged.
“What if I threw the fight?” I asked.
Regan hesitated. “You would do that?” she asked quietly.
“I don’t want to fight you,” I said.
Regan bit her lip and finally, she shook her head. “I don’t think that’s wise. If they find out we planned it, we’d both be disqualified anyway. Besides, it’s not all a physical battle. There will be mental challenges, and without knowing ahead of time what’s coming, it’s too risky to try and throw it.”
“I see,” I said. “Well, I was just wondering.”
Regan nodded. “Let’s get going before we’re late.”
I followed quickly, eager to put the conversation behind us.
Together, we left the main house and walked along into the woods behind the house. Big paper lanterns had been draped in the trees with flickering tea lights inside of them. They illuminated a sparkling path to the clearing where all the benches had been set up.
A band played on the stage. Waiters—other werewolves dressed in nice coats and slacks—were walking around with drinks on trays. I snagged one as they passed and drank the whole thing at once. Sparkling apple cider. It wouldn’t do anything for my nerves but I needed something to do.
Regan watched me through it all with critical eyes.
“Okay,” I said, squaring my shoulders. “Let’s meet the in-laws.”