My bare foot landed hard on the sharp point of a rock and I stumbled. Maybe tearing out of the house in a bathrobe wasn’t the smart move. But there was no going back. I had to get there, to stop this. Somehow.
“Wait!” a voice behind me called out, high pitched and just desperate enough to make me pause and turn.
“If you’re going to tell me to stop, Lane, it won’t work,” I said, shuffling impatiently.
“You don’t want to do this,” she said as she caught up to me, her cheeks puffing out as she caught her breath. Her scar stretched and shrank as she exhaled.
“Yes, I do,” I said, “And I don’t care what any of you think anymore. I can’t let Owen—”
“You don’t understand,” she said, sympathy washing over her features, tugging everything down at the edges. “They chose this, Charlie. Your dad and Sheridan and the council, they were going to give it a few more days to see if you pulled through but Regan and Owen decided not to wait. They asked permission to go ahead and have the wedding. They chose each other.”
Her words slammed into me like a ton of bricks. “What?” I asked weakly, trying to come to terms with what she was saying. But I couldn’t even imagine it. “I don’t believe you,” I breathed, bending at the knees as a wave of exhaustion finally hit me. Whatever adrenaline had fueled me leaked away.
“Come on,” Lane said, slipping an arm around my hip and pointing us back toward the house. “I’ll help you back inside. You shouldn’t have to see….”
I hesitated, torn. “But Regan hates Owen. Even on her best day, she’d rather die than marry a vamp,” I said. I pulled on her to hold my ground. “If they knew I was awake—”
“God, you’re such a pain. Just shut up and lose with some freaking dignity,” Lane snapped, her sympathy suddenly gone. In its place was a coldness that made me shudder.
“Look, I know you’re not my biggest fan, but I have a right to—”
“To nothing!” Lane dropped my hip so abruptly, I almost stumbled. “You don’t have a claim here. You’re not a Vuk. You don’t know us. And you don’t have what it takes to wage a war. Regan does. She deserves alpha, not you.”
I frowned at the intensity of her words. “Lane, you’re entitled to your opinion, but you don’t get to decide—”
“Don’t I?” she asked and something velvety and sharp lay behind her words. “I think the choice is clear. All you have to do is let them think you’re dying for twenty minutes more. And all of it is as it should be.”
“You think letting them get married will put everything right?” I demanded. “You don’t even like the vampires.”
“Which is exactly why this needs to happen.” Her expression twisted into a nasty smile. “I wouldn’t worry too much about the wedding night. The second they’re pronounced man and wife, Regan will do what needs to be done.”
Warning bells sounded in my head and I forced my concentration sharper. Something was going on here. This was more than just mean girl syndrome. “That sounds an awful lot like traitor talk. Something you should be careful of with all these threats—”
“You’re the traitor throwing yourself all over that excuse for a prince. Not to mention a fraud. Something had to be done to remind the pack who the enemy is.” Her words were heavy with meaning and I knew at once she referred to much more than Regan’s mom or the blood treaty.
Fraud? What did she…?
My eyes narrowed as the pieces all clicked into place. I took a step back as awareness finally dawned. “It’s you,” I said, breathless with disbelief and shock. “It’s been you all along. This whole time I thought it was—” I bit out a laugh. “I thought it was Sheridan! What an idiot … You put the heart in my room that day. And the drink—” I tilted my head. “The field full of bitterroot in the forest. That’s yours.”
“Vamps are evil. Thill knew it when he brought us here to exterminate them in the first place. Our alphas grew soft.” Her eyes flashed. “I did what was necessary for justice.”
My jaw hardened at her words. Indignation for Regan’s mother—for Regan and for me—rose in me. My hands balled into fists. “Justice,” I said softly, planting my feet. “I’m looking for the same thing.”
Lane hesitated, and for a split second I thought she was going to bolt. I tensed, ready to chase her. No way was she getting away from me now. I’d come out here looking for a killer and I’d found one.
But the wedding…
My glance flickered sideways for a fraction of a second.
Lane’s eyes followed mine toward the bridal tent not far away and her lips curled in disgust. “Always looking to throw a wrench in things, aren’t you? If you hadn’t come here, Regan would have already been alpha like she was supposed to and we’d have exterminated those monsters once and for all.”
“And if those monsters didn’t kill Regan’s mom?” I demanded, edging toward the path again. I wanted Lane’s throat. But I wanted to stop that wedding just as much.
Lane snarled at me and shimmered at the edges, close to shifting. I called my wolf to the surface and let it hang there, fueling me with energy and healing what was left of my exhaustion. “Of course they didn’t kill Regan’s mom,” she said.
I paused. “You said she went soft. Forgot who the enemy was. Her death—”
“Was a reminder. If she didn’t die how else would we go to war?”
Rage—pure and eclipsing—coursed through me. I shifted and charged all at once, making the change twice as fast as I’d ever done before. My paws slammed into Lane and she fell beneath me, half wolf, half girl as my teeth caught on her shoulder and raked down her flesh.
She cried out until the sound abruptly became a growl, but I didn’t slow or stop. I bit again and again with Lane writhing underneath me. In her wolf form, her scar was a thin line of bare flesh where the fur no longer grew. But all of Lane’s pain and injuries were nothing compared to what my wolf wanted to do to her now. I howled with the need for her blood.
Lane was right. It was time for justice.