A howl split the air, drowning out Thill’s words about taking care of each other through sickness. Owen froze in the middle of an eye roll and we stared back at each other. The assembled crowd hung still for a split second. Then everyone jumped up and ran toward the awful cries coming from near the house.
The train of my dress slowed me down but it couldn’t be helped. The pressing of the crowd made it impossible to shift safely here. I barreled around people, knocking some aside in my attempt to get there first. Owen sped past me, unhindered in his tux.
By the time I got there, a wall of bodies obscured my view. Several shouts rang out but none of them made any sense. From the sounds of it—and from the snarls in the center ring—two werewolves were trying to tear each other’s throats out.
The vamps hung back at the fringes, but I pushed my way through, more irritated than anything else. What kind of classy bunch did it take to wrestle on the lawn on my wedding day?
I broke through the fringes just in time to see Owen let out a snarl and dart into the fray. He moved so fast, it took all my senses to follow the blur of his shoulders. He cut between the sharp teeth, narrowly avoiding getting bit, before hauling one of the werewolves sideways—clear of the blow it had been about to receive from the other.
With both of them finally broken apart, I blanched.
Not at the blood spilling from them both, but because I knew these wolves. Both of them. I just couldn’t believe what I was seeing.
“Charlie?” I stared at the brown wolf Owen hovered near and realized Owen wasn’t attacking her; he’d been protecting her from the other one.
“Lane?” Dad asked, shouldering his way through the crowd until he stood shoulder to shoulder with me—towering directly over of the black wolf that was Lane. Blaine Rossi was right beside him and Sheridan close behind them. Dad’s mouth had thinned, but he didn’t look nearly as shocked as I felt. Only disappointed. Sheridan and I exchanged a glance and her mouth thinned.
At the sound of her name, Lane turned and bared her teeth at Charlie all over again. For a second, I wondered if she’d try attacking Charlie again even with all of us here to stop her.
“What is going on here?” I demanded. “Why are you fighting?”
Charlie shimmered and then, in a blink, she was a girl again—in a bathrobe? The robe hung loosely on one side where it had shredded to reveal nasty slashes along her abdomen. Owen reached for her and she let him help her up, stumbling until he helped brace her weight against him. Her wounds dripped with blood but she ignored them and glared at Lane with wild eyes. I knew that look well. It was a look meant to kill.
But all I could think was that her eyes were open and she was breathing—and alive. Something inside me unwound.
“Charlie, what happened?” Dad asked.
“Lane is the one who poisoned me,” Charlie said through clenched teeth. Even clinging to Owen and clearly exhausted, she looked ready to launch herself at Lane all over again.
“What?” My surprise mirrored the rest of the crowd. I could hear several of them voicing their skepticism already. But I ignored it all because, beside me, Dad was way too quiet. And worse, in the center of everything, Lane wouldn’t meet a single gaze as she hunkered down low in the grass still on four legs. “How do you know?” I asked.
“Because she told me,” Charlie practically spit and then her eyes filled with tears. “She was willing to do anything to make you alpha because she wanted war with the vamps and she knew you’d fight them for…” Charlie trailed off, cutting her gaze to Owen, then back to me, her shoulders sagging. “It wasn’t the vampires. She killed your mom, Regan.”
“Of course,” Sheridan breathed. “Her mother…” She glanced at me and then at Dad. “William, it makes sense.”
“What? Why would that—?” Charlie began and then she stopped short, eyes wide and trained on Sheridan. Slowly, they shifted to me and it all clicked.
“Lane’s mom was the one who tried to poison Mom before…” I said, the words drying up before I could get them all out. Dad’s mouth was grim.
Lane growled and reared back, canines bared. Owen stepped in front of Charlie, the picture of ease. But I knew better. His crimson eyes burned into Lane’s yellow ones. “That would be a bad decision,” he said in a silky voice.
Lane stepped forward.
“Stop!” Dad yelled at them, beating me to it. “Lane, shift. Now,” he commanded.
Lane straightened to her full height and glared at my dad through her dark wolf eyes until finally, her body shifted and she stood on two legs. Even then, her expression was murderous. The thick scar made her look even more menacing. “What?” she demanded in a clipped voice.
I blinked, shocked. This wasn’t the meek, quiet girl I knew.
“Is this true?” Dad asked. “Are you behind the threats against Charlie? The bitterroot?” he asked calmly—too calmly. Like he already knew.
Lane’s chin came up. “I did what was necessary for justice. I am loyal to the pack, to my alpha.” Her eyes flicked to me. Dad took a step forward, cutting me from her line of sight.
“I am your alpha, Lane. Not Regan.” His hands were fisted at his sides and the strain was evident in the set of his shoulders as he faced Lane down.
“And you’re as soft as your wife,” Lane snapped.
Dad flinched and then leaned in close. “You killed her, didn’t you?” he asked softly, empathy coating his words. Lane dropped her eyes and her hair hung in her face. I stopped breathing. Dad didn’t do empathy, but Lane was clearly buying it.
“I did what was necessary,” she repeated, but her voice had gone quiet. My wolf’s intuition flared—mixing with rage. She had done it. This girl, this unassuming friend I’d known my whole life. She’d killed my mother.
“But Mom had vamp marks in her neck,” I blurted. “How is that possible if Lane—?”
Lane’s head whipped up, brows wrinkling in confusion as she looked up at Dad, then behind him at me. “It wasn’t—” Something over my shoulder caught her gaze and her eyes widened.
“That was me.”
I turned to find Valentino striding toward us. In all black, he wasn’t dressed for a party, and I wondered how long he’d been out there just watching. He stopped in front of me and spoke gently. “Your mom was poisoned, Regan,” he said softly. “Bitterroot in her drink just like with Charlie. William called me, and I tried to do what I’d done for her all those years before and extract it, but I was too late. The poison had already run its course.” His gaze flicked to Dad. “I’m sorry.”
“Before?” I stared at him dumbly. “Sheridan said you intercepted …”
Valentino nodded. “We thought it was best to use discretion in the story of her survival.”
I waited for Dad to refute it, but he wouldn’t meet my eyes. I turned back to Valentino. “That’s why she had bite marks on her neck,” I said. “Because you tried to save her like Owen did with Charlie.” Valentino nodded. I turned back to my dad. “And you knew.”
He nodded. “But the killer didn’t. As far as they knew, the poison was the only obvious cause of death.” He turned back to Lane, who cowered now underneath the weight of Dad’s and Valentino’s glowers. “We let everyone think a vampire killed her in order to draw out the real murderer. And now we have her.”
Charlie broke away from Owen and walked over to my dad. She laid a hand on his arm. “She wanted justice for herself,” Charlie said quietly.
“Take her into custody,” Dad said. Brent and Al came forward along with a few others to shadow them as they seized a struggling Lane and dragged her off. “The rest of you are all dismissed. The reception is set up inside with plenty of food and drink. We’ll join you in a moment.” The crowd dispersed slowly with glances backward. No one wanted to miss whatever was going down next.
No one said a word until the last straggler had gone.
When the crowd had departed, Dad turned to Charlie, but instead of snapping, he only shook his head. “Justice and vengeance are not the same thing.” he said. “She wanted the second, not the first, but hurting the new alpha wasn’t the way to get it.”