Owen. The last time I saw him, my pack had been fighting his coven. It was a bloody battle, although I don’t even remember what started it now. Someone crossed the wrong territory line, insults were thrown, claws were unsheathed. Whenever vampires and werewolves started to fight, things were guaranteed to get ugly, fast. It didn’t take long for bodies to hit the ground.
By the time Dad and I arrived to stop it, all that remained was cleanup.
I found myself holding the body of a werewolf—Ray, an idiot who didn’t know that the best way to win a fight against a vampire was to avoid it completely, an idiot who had been far too young to die—trying to bring him back to consciousness so he could transform and heal. My hands were covered in his blood. He never woke up.
My eyes had met Owen’s over Ray’s body, and the vampire had smiled.
Smiled.
That was how I would always think of Prince Owen. It didn’t matter if we were going to get married and lead the vampires and werewolves together. I would remember him smiling at me as I held the body of a boy who never got a chance to live his life—and I would hate him for it.
That cold smile was turned on Charlie now as Owen climbed onto the stage behind her. I couldn’t join them fast enough.
“Thank you so much for having me here,” Owen said, his voice slithering over the speaker system and down my spine. “To bring our families to peace through this treaty is an honor.”
Charlie stared at him, stunned. She probably hadn’t seen a vampire before. I had seen far too many, but I tried to imagine what she must have been thinking—that pallor, those severe features, the dark eyes. He must have looked monstrous to her. And one of us was going to marry him.
A wave of pity swept over me, followed quickly by the wild urge to protect her.
I shoved my sister behind me. Not hard, but she gave a small peep of surprise anyway.
That tiny sound was enough to cut Owen off from another falsely charismatic announcement. His eyes sliced over to me.
“Ah,” he said. Turned away from the microphone, he spoke in a low murmur that only I would hear. “Vuk.” He said my name so familiarly, as if it were a name he had whispered a million times.
I didn’t dignify him with a response.
I looked out over the crowd, scanning the expressions of the faces that stared back at me. Fear, anger, suspicion. Vampires and werewolves alike—no one looked excited to see the mix that stood on stage together. I couldn’t agree more, but at least I could handle it. I could stand up under this kind of pressure. Charlie had no experience with this sort of thing.
“Thank you, thank you!” Sheridan said, giving Owen a toothy grin that wasn’t even a little bit friendly.
The crowd clapped, but it was definitely the sound of strained politeness—on both sides.
Mrs. Rossi appeared at the bottom of the stage. She rolled her eyes at Owen and hissed at him, “It’s over, Owen. You made your speech. Get down here.”
Owen’s smile faltered, only for a second.
“Come on,” his mother prodded. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
Owen waved one final time, putting on a neutral expression for the crowd, and then, in a graceful leap, joined his mother on the grass. Her hand lifted and rested on his back, guiding him back to their little corner. I noticed he went instantly stiff at the contact.
Interesting. The vampire prince didn’t get along with his mother? Surprise, surprise. The bloodsuckers couldn’t even manage peace amongst themselves. How could we ever expect to cooperate by forcing a marriage?
Dad was crazy. If he’d been telling the truth about this arrangement being her idea then Mom had been crazy too.
With the toast over and Sheridan going on about thanking people for coming, I recognized my chance for escape. I grabbed Charlie’s hand and pulled her behind me toward the stairs. She seemed distracted, but now wasn’t the time to stop and talk about it. Not with all of these people watching—and waiting for a sign, some display of weakness.
We took the side stairs that led us to the grass beside the stage. The woods encroached not ten feet away and my wolf strained and knocked on its human cage, begging to be freed. To stalk through the cover of darkness and lay into its enemies. I grit my teeth and turned away from the shadowed forest.
Bevin blocked our path at the bottom of the dais.
“Move, Bevin,” I said, waving her off impatiently.
Her emerald eyes flashed in the darkness. I opened my mouth to snap at her again but I realized she wasn’t looking at me. She was staring at Charlie. And her temper was up.
“You’re not doing yourself any favors, you know, getting friendly with the enemy,” she snapped, shoulders squared, spine straightened. If she’d been furred, there was no doubt in my mind that she would have had her hackles up.
Charlie froze and I felt my temper prick. What was Bevin going on about now? This wasn’t the time or place for any of her games. And Charlie didn’t need this ranting on top of what she’d just been through.
“He’s not yours yet. You could at least act like you aren’t already crushing on the enemy,” Bevin said.
“What the hell are you talking about?” I demanded, stepping between them. I caught sight of Carter, Bevin’s brother, my other best friend, standing a few feet away, arms crossed over his tie and jacket. He made no move to intervene but neither did he seem very surprised by Bevin’s outburst.
Before I could ask him to help, Bevin explained, “Your little sidekick was flirting it up with Prince Owen right up until the moment they made their first public appearance. Hand in hand.”