Mr. Rossi cleared his throat, and I blinked, struggling to refocus as my thoughts churned with suspects.
“Regan?” he called sharply.
The way he prompted her made it sound like this wasn’t the first time he’d said her name. We were both way too distracted for this. She released her fists and smoothed her palms against her pants. She turned to Mr. Rossi, the distaste almost hidden behind her polite expression. “Yes, sir?”
“I asked you if you’re ready,” he said.
“Yes,” she said.
“Very good. And Charlotte?”
“It’s Charlie,” I said before I could catch myself. As soon as the words were out, I regretted it. Probably not the best idea to correct the vampire king in front of his kingdom.
But he nodded and smiled. His expression looked almost … friendly. “Of course. Charlie. Are you ready?”
“Yes, sir,” I said sheepishly. Regan scowled. I glanced back once more to the outskirts of the crowd but Valentino was gone.
“The contest is made up of a series of questions of which there are an unlimited number. The test is conducted in a manner known as ‘sudden death’ meaning I will take turns asking each of you questions. If one of you passes on a question or answers it incorrectly then your opponent is given a new, final question. If she gets it wrong, the test continues. If she gets it right, then she is declared a victor. Understand?”
He paused and we both nodded.
“Since Regan was the victor of the first test, question one is for Charlie.” I waited, expecting him to read from a card or some other written cue, but he met my eyes as he spoke, apparently reciting from memory. “Your question is this: Traditionally speaking, how is the role of alpha and beta selected in your pack?”
I picked at my nails as I thought about the question. It wasn’t hard—I knew the answer. But I didn’t want to get tripped up on my words and botch it.
“Well,” I began slowly. “The alpha in our pack is passed down to the female of each generation. In cases with more than one eligible, of-age female in the generational line, the alpha is selected through a competition, like this one. And the beta is typically passed down through the generations of a designated family. Although, the ruling alpha has final say. Like in our case, where the runner-up of the competition will take the beta role.”
Even though I knew I was right, I held my breath until Mr. Rossi replied with, “Correct.”
It was followed by meager clapping that died off quickly.
“Regan, your first question is this: What is the difference between your pack’s leadership and our coven’s?”
Regan cleared her throat and spoke in a clear voice. “Although the alpha is at the head, as my—as Charlie—described, our leadership is a democracy,” she said. “Yours is an aristocracy. We both have councils that vote and have input on our affairs but yours is merely a formality. You and the queen do what you want without regard for—” She stopped and pressed her lips together.
Mr. Rossi narrowed his eyes fractionally. The acid in her words hadn’t been missed. Regan’s cheeks reddened, either with anger or embarrassment for her rudeness I wasn’t sure.
Regan began again. “Yours is a monarchy. Your word is final. The royal position of leadership is passed down through blood regardless of gender. Your son, Owen, will rule after you, along with his mate … whoever she is. And their … children after them.” Regan paled a little at the last part.
I stared at her, jealousy snaking through my veins. Images of Owen-Regan babies filled my mind and I felt my hands tighten into fists. The wolf inside me snarled silently. I hated the image with a passion that startled me and left my skin hot. It renewed my determination to win.
I shot a glance at Owen and found him watching me with drawn brows.
“Correct,” Mr. Rossi said. The tightness in his voice called me back, remembering the way Regan had just publicly insulted the vampires. She averted her eyes and I knew she was already anticipating the lecture she’d get for it later. “Charlie, next question. What is a vampire’s most powerful weapon in a fight?”
I felt a second’s indecision as I pictured gleaming fangs and porcelain fingers with nails like claws reaching for their victim with superhuman speed. It was the image of the “monster” as Regan described it my first day here. But then the fangs and fingers became familiar and I followed them to the face in my mind.
The crowd’s expectant faces turned toward me, but I didn’t look at any of them. I found Owen where I’d left him, in the second row, beside his mother. He met my eyes and I caught the slightest dip of his chin as he nodded at me. I looked back at Mr. Rossi.
“A vampire’s most powerful weapon is his senses. Being aware enough of his surroundings to anticipate his enemy’s movements before they are even complete allows him to play offense and defense simultaneously. This will always give him the upper hand in a fight.”
The tent was silent enough for me to hear the pounding of my own heart in my ears. I scanned a few faces, but they weren’t watching me. They were intent on Mr. Rossi. Was my answer correct? I twined my fingers together, fidgeting to hide my shaking.
“Correct,” Mr. Rossi said. He smiled at me, showing a fair amount of teeth. Some of the crowd actually clapped and cheered. I looked out among them, startled by it, and realized it was mostly the vampires clapping. At this point, I’d take it.
I exhaled.
“Regan, your next question is this: how can a vampire be killed?”
Regan answered without hesitation, although her expression was grim. “A stake through the heart will incapacitate but it’s not necessarily permanent. Decapitate and then burn the body. That’s the only way to ensure permanent destruction.”
Mr. Rossi frowned as if the subject itself was distasteful. “Correct.”
Someone in the audience booed but it was barely audible over the clapping and cheering of the pack members. Regan looked neither pleased nor disappointed. I would’ve assumed she’d enjoy speaking so openly about killing her enemies in front of so many of them.
“Charlie, your turn,” Mr. Rossi said. “How can a werewolf be killed?”
My answer came quicker this time. I felt more confident than I had at any other point in the tests so far. I looked at my dad as I answered. “Any fatal injury, illness, or old age that prevents us from shifting in order to heal.” My dad’s mouth twisted on one side, the closest to a smile I’d seen. I smiled back.
“Correct.” Mr. Rossi shifted to look at Regan again and waited until the crowd quieted. More clapping. Some of the pack even joined in. I caught Carter smiling, but it disappeared as his gaze shifted back to Regan.
“Next question, Regan. What is the cure for a werewolf who’s ingested the herb known as bitterroot?”
Regan frowned, her brows drawing down in thought. She chewed her lip, something I’d only rarely seen her do as it was a sign of nerves. She must’ve remembered that because she stopped abruptly and stood still. When she spoke, her words came slowly. “There is no known cure for bitterroot.”
Three full beats of silence passed. Mr. Rossi’s face was a mask. Finally, he said, “I’m sorry, that is incorrect.”
It was so quiet. Nobody in the audience seemed to move or breathe. Incorrect? Owen had told me that bitterroot was a deadly poison. What did they mean, incorrect?
Mr. Rossi turned toward me. “Charlie, how long does a vampire’s marriage last?” he asked.
I could feel Regan watching me, expecting me to lose. But Mr. Rossi’s voice took me back to the night before, standing in Owen’s arms, and the vows that he had shared with me.
“For all of time to come,” I said, reciting exactly what Owen had told me.
Was I imagining it, or was that an approving smile on Mr. Rossi’s face?
“That is correct,” he said.
The crowd roared.
I couldn’t tell if it was out of disbelief or approval from the vampires who seemed to suddenly be rooting for me. I was too shocked to try to figure it out.
I had won. Somehow, I had won.
In the midst of a scowling pack, my dad’s frown cut deep lines on either side of his mouth. He stared back and forth between Regan and me like he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do next. Beside him, Sheridan clapped politely, her palms barely making contact with each other. She stared at me with a twisted lip until I squirmed and looked away—straight at Carter. He sat stock-still, watching Regan with a look of intense concentration. His lips were pressed tightly together and his eyes were narrowed. Almost as if he was willing her to look over at him. She didn’t. She stared straight ahead at nothing, her face blank.
She looked numb. I knew the feeling.
I felt detached, as if watching the entire thing from a bubble where minimal sound or even feeling penetrated.
Owen caught my eye. His smile was huge. Some of the feeling leaked back in.
When it was clear the vampires weren’t quieting anytime soon, Mr. Rossi attempted to speak over them. “Ladies and gentleman, this concludes the Test of Knowledge. Charlie is the clear winner of this round, putting the girls at an even tie. It looks like the decision will come down to the Test of Endurance.”
More chattering.
Mr. Rossi spoke louder. “Details of the next test will be forthcoming once they’ve been decided. The Vuk pack will begin arrangements to depart and I trust until then, we will all continue to show the same hospitality to each other as we’ve done since their arrival. You are dismissed. Thank you.”