I woke up with the lead weight of dread pinning me to the bed. My eyes opened on the blank ceiling above, and I realized I was in my bedroom—alive, whole, and alone. That wasn’t what had me feeling as miserable as if I had woken up from a nightmare, even though my sleep had been deep and dreamless.
I had been poisoned.
Whoever had been tiptoeing around with their threats these last weeks had finally made a real move. Whatever had been in that cup was meant to kill me. I hadn’t even had time to shift before the poison had taken me under. And with everyone watching. For some reason, that made it all so much worse. My pack would never see me as strong enough to lead now.
Not even if I won tomorrow.
I sat up, dazed and aching at all my joints, but then stiffened as I realized my room was lit with sunlight streaming through the far window. It already was tomorrow!
I threw the covers back, hurrying for the door, but halted as my feet hit the cold hardwood and winced. Had I hit my neck on something? I remember falling at the party, unable to stand any longer against the burning. Maybe I’d pulled a muscle.
But when I put my hand to my neck, the tender spot didn’t feel like a wrenched muscle. It felt like the tenderness of a healing wound.
Weirder and weirder.
Getting out of bed more slowly this time, I slipped a robe on over my shoulders and cinched it tight before making my way to the door.
I opened it hoping for someone there to give me some answers. I’d even take Brent at this point—anyone to explain what had happened to me. And how much I’d missed. Would they consider my illness a forfeit? Cancel the last test? Or would they wait until I’d recovered?
But there was only one figure waiting for me in the hall. And it was the last person I expected. Lane was sitting on a bureau playing with her cell phone. A woman’s voice trickled softly out of the speaker, the volume too low for me to make out the words. Lane smiled at the screen but it was a hardened gesture. “I’ll call you after,” Lane said quietly.
Underneath my feet, the floor creaked. Lane’s head whipped up. When she saw me, she jumped to her feet and clicked the phone off.
“Charlie! You’re okay!” she exclaimed.
“In a manner of speaking,” I said, grimacing at the way my head pounded to the beat of her voice. “Who were you talking to?”
“Oh.” Lane’s expression was unreadable beneath her contorted scar. “My mom.”
I tilted my head, my thoughts still too fuzzy to concentrate properly. “Have I met her?” I asked.
Lane shook her head. “No. She doesn’t live with the pack,” she said. Her tone made it clear more questions were not welcome.
I nodded. Beyond us, the house seemed weirdly quiet. There were no distant vibrations of feet on the floor above me, no voices drifting through the walls, no recent scents of the pack. I frowned. “What’s going on? Where is everyone?”
Lane shrugged before dusting her hair out of her eyes. “They’re probably at the wedding. It should be over soon. Don’t worry.”
My heart might have actually stopped beating.
“The wedding?” I asked, voice rising to nearly a shriek.
“Uh, yeah.” Lane blinked at me. “You’ve been asleep for three days, Charlie. We didn’t think you’d even wake up. The rules state that if one sibling isn’t physically able to stand for the test before the next moon cycle, you forfeit.” She shrugged like it didn’t matter to her one way or another. “They couldn’t put it off any longer.”
I smothered another cry with my hands, trying to slow the beating of my heart as my mind whirled with what she had just told me. I knew the blood treaty stipulated a wedding as soon as possible after the competition, but the competition wasn’t over. I’d been poisoned!
And I realized now, I hadn’t really contemplated the horror of Owen getting married to someone else—to Regan, my sister, of all people—and what that would feel like being left behind.
But Regan hated vampires. She wouldn’t do it.
And Owen—Owen wouldn’t do it, either. He loved me. He’d told me so.
But even as I thought those things, trying to comfort myself, I knew that they weren’t enough. Of course they would both go through with it. We had a blood pact, and if Regan had won, she’d fulfill her responsibilities. The two of them may have loathed each other, but their sense of duty was too powerful to turn their backs on. Duty before desire, Regan had told me.
They would get married, and they would force smiles through the entire thing. I just couldn’t let it happen.
“You look like you’re still feeling kind of terrible,” Lane said, taking my arm and leading me back inside my room. “You should sit before you fall down.”
But I shoved her arm aside and planted my feet. “Where is the wedding happening? When does it start?” The words spilled from my mouth in a rush.
“It started ten minutes ago down in the back-acre.” She jerked her chin toward the window. “I volunteered to stay up here and listen for you—”
I was out the door before she could finish, running down the hall. “Where are you going? You’re in a bathrobe!” Lane yelled out behind me.
I looked down. I had completely forgotten. But there was no time. I had a wedding to stop and a killer to face. And I knew just where I’d find both.