I took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of sweet pine and rich earth that always seemed to hang around him. It was heady, intoxicating. The scent of him combined with the memory of his lie made me angry and I glared up at him. “Because I take life seriously. I don’t lie or quit or tease. My word and my responsibilities mean something. Unlike you and the rest of my pack.”
“You mean you take yourself seriously,” he corrected. “And you want everyone else to do the same.” I hesitated, trying to read whether he was condemning me, but there was no judgment in his words.
“Maybe.” It grated that he’d seen that so easily. “Besides, it’s not Regan’s fault that we’ve been kept apart our whole lives. I want to get to know her. And I can’t do that unless I meet her on her level.”
“You mean unless you act like one of them.”
I shrugged, hating that the truth felt embarrassing. But something about the way he said it made it sound like a bad thing.
“Tell me, what would happen to Regan if you relinquished the alpha role?”
“You mean forfeit?” I asked. He nodded and my gut tightened at his question. Did he want me to forfeit so he could marry Regan? I shook the thought away. Who cared? I shouldn’t be getting married anyway at seventeen. This was crazy.
“She would lose her place,” I said. “If a Vuk relinquishes the role, she does so for the entire family line—a line that follows the father’s descendants. It would pass to the next rightful heir, the council member whose family has held their position longest.”
I’d used the law book’s genealogy map to learn about Thill. His only living female descendant was Sheridan. I’d been surprised to learn Sheridan and my dad were second cousins and while she wasn’t a Vuk, she was the closest thing to an heir. But despite the relation, Regan was clearly not a fan of the idea of Sheridan leading. I had to admit, for reasons I couldn’t name, neither was I. Although, unlike Regan, she hadn’t lied.
I still hadn’t confronted my sister about that. Fang marks. Not a stab wound like she’d originally told me. I shuddered at the implications. Again, I wondered…
“And Regan losing her place matters to you?” Owen asked.
“Of course it matters,” I said. “Is that so wrong? Regan is my sister. She didn’t ask for this and I can’t allow my decisions to punish her. To take her whole future away.”
“That’s very selfless of you,” Owen said quietly.
I blinked, my cheeks warming at the unexpected compliment. “I didn’t do it to be selfless,” I said.
“Precisely my point,” he murmured, his hand once again hovering near my skin. “You are much worthier of this than they realize,” he said.
“Don’t your parents teach you to make the same hard choices?” I whispered. Something about our closeness made everything feel hushed. Even the forest was deathly silent around us.
Owen’s eyes flashed at my question and I wondered if I’d said something wrong, but then the friendliness in his gaze returned. He smiled but it looked sad. “No, vampires are a little different. We are not quite so … democratic,” he finished.
“But you are a coven,” I pointed out. “A unified group, like us.”
“No, not like you,” he said.
I waited for him to elaborate, but when he didn’t, I bit my lip in thought. My brows drew together as I tried to understand the subtle differences I’d noted between us and them last night. Beyond our supernatural makeup, there had been a coldness to the vampires that hadn’t been present on our side. I’d missed it before because the pack had been cold to me, but amongst themselves there was a warm camaraderie Owen’s side didn’t possess.
And Mrs. Rossi—it hadn’t been just me that she’d openly dismissed. She’d been almost cruel to Owen, demanding that he get off the stage and then hissing at him too low for me to hear.
Maybe Regan was right to suspect them.
“Your family is close,” Owen said finally, a wistfulness to his words that confirmed my suspicions. “But…”
“But?” I prompted.
He frowned and it twisted into something hateful. “They are only this way among each other. They have no regard for outsiders, no matter what creature. I’m sure you’re experiencing that firsthand right now.”
I did know but I couldn’t admit it. “I know you don’t like them, but I can’t help who I am. They’re my family.” I knew it was totally different from what I’d said before—that we couldn’t help who we were related to—but I was feeling defensive now, knowing that I had been spilling my heart out to Prince Owen.
“Your family doesn’t define who you are,” Owen said gently. “Your actions do.”
I wondered whose family he was talking about now, but I didn’t ask. “Well, my actions are going to involve training for this competition. Because whether I win or lose, if I can fight like one of them, I am one of them. They will have no choice but to accept me.”
“And you are sure acceptance is what you want?” he asked.
I blinked at him. “Yes.”
His eyes regarded me with a depth of understanding that made me squirm. “There are worse things,” he said finally, and I wasn’t sure if the statement was meant for me or him. He took a step back, head tilted. “Okay, I’ll do it.”
“Do what?” I asked.
“Train you, of course,” Owen said, suddenly so much lighter than before. He waved toward the trees behind me. “You won’t learn to fight like them all by yourself.”
My jaw fell open. “I can’t train with you. It’s …” I trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.
“What?”
I sighed, thinking of Bevin and the others. What would they say if they found out I was spending time with Owen? “It’s ridiculous. You’re the enemy.”
“Your only enemy is yourself. The sooner you realize that, the better off you’ll be.”