Up till now, I’d allowed most of the conversation to fade into incomprehensibility as though all of this meant nothing to me and had nothing to do with me. I was, after all, only a cockroach under the floorboard and they were only discussing some flea-bitten stray. Not me. Seeing as the largest werewolf in the room was standing directly beside me, I couldn’t very well ignore the stentorian voice of the mighty Augustus himself when he finally added to the discourse, abruptly dispelling my sensory overload.
She’s hardly a threat.” He gestured down at me with a nod. “Half-starved maybe. How can we damn her without first waiting to see—”
“They all turn rabid!” Nicole interpolated. “She’ll be no different.”
“The bite affects everyone differently. We should wait.”
“Wait for what? For her to kill someone?”
I could feel my dark warden bristling at Nicole’s tone, the wrath rolling off him so much so that it hit me in tangible waves. Why was he playing devil’s advocate on my behalf? Did he see right through her like I did? “Let Dean or Max decide,” he said. “If Tristan bit her—”
“If? I’m telling you he bit her!”
“Nicole.” At Aidan’s warning tone, temperate though it was, all became silent again. “I don't know how conclaves were conducted in Dean’s house, but here, in mine, you'll maintain a respectful tone and leash your tongue. You haven’t been gone that long.”
I relished Nicole’s chagrin and peeked up to meet her withering and overpowering stare. Instantly, I dropped mine to the floor again, despising myself for my cowardice.
“If Tristan bit her,” Augustus said again, “then she should be theirs to destroy and Tristan their problem to deal with.”
The discussions had recommenced, but I’d stopped listening. I became temporarily lightheaded. I couldn’t remember my last meal. Water and air would only sustain me so long. Only Augustus’ firm hold on my arm kept me steady enough that no one, except him, noticed my momentary faintness. But he, thankfully, gave nothing away, barely even glanced at me. I wasn’t worth a glance after all. No one would bother to look a mouse in the eyes, what was the point of that? No one wanted to ‘humanize’ what they meant to destroy. I was just a slaughterhouse cow to them.
“Unfortunately for you,” came the echo of Dean’s long ago caveat, “you’ve already established your rank in the pack.”
Eyes up, Evan! From beneath the harsh spotlight of this pseudo courtroom, encircled by my would-be adjudicators, I finally lifted my eyes off the floor for the last time and met each werewolf glare with a defiance I didn’t quite feel yet. But I would fake it till I did. I would not be intimidated anymore, I decided. My timidness had gotten me nowhere! Easier said than done though. Defiance was hard to pull off, especially in the face of one particularly feral-looking man who licked his chops vulgarly at me, dissecting me openly.
Okay, clearly I would be intimidated. In spite of my natural inclination to balk and tuck tail, however, as I’d just done with Nicole (which was why she’d thought me easy prey), I summoned my meager pluck and held the man’s predatory gaze. What did I have to lose now? I was dead anyway. The best defense against predation was, after all, not to act like prey. To bare my own fangs and claws, latent though they were. By degrees, strangely enough, he began to lose the look of virulence and instead began to appear nonplussed. Then the incredible happened: he averted his eyes.
Now I was the one to become bemused! Had I just…? Could I really establish my dominance over someone with just a look alone? Maybe there was some unforeseen and unfathomable power that coalesced in the heart of the damned who had nothing more to lose. A reckless and unfettered power that was gathering in my belly. With awful lucidity, it hit me: all my life I’d been silently shrinking, always eager to be invisible and passive, without ever truly understanding or appreciating the fundamental laws of body language. Maybe that’s why Andy had never really noticed me as anything more than a little love-struck puppy to be humored and amused by.
Here, amidst these unsympathetic strangers—in the most unlikely place in the world to find my strength or determine my newborn puissance—I was suddenly hit by the epiphany that I was the only one thus far who’d never believed in myself. Who’d never believed in my own worth. Well, I resolved angrily, if I wanted to run with the big dogs—and survive—I’d need to stop pissing like a puppy!
In consideration of that, I dragged a far more confident gaze around to study the hall and its unnatural occupants. The place was something between an old barn and an abandoned church with it’s naked, dust-ridden beams, cloudy windows, and spartan box pews. It was towards the serried pews that I glared. This was more so to test a burgeoning theory than to antagonize any of the wolves. I was by no means suicidal. Knowing I was going to die didn’t mean I was going to facilitate that eventuality. I was testing myself. And them.
One by one, I gauged those closest to the front, refusing to shrink from them, pitting my own steely glare against theirs. Though not every eye inevitably shied away, I was surprised by how many did yield to mine. It was empowering and compelling. Finally, though, I came full circle, my scowl colliding with Nicole’s. Hers was considerably blacker than anything I was capable of summoning.
Here was my worst aggressor. She’d already determined her superiority above mine from past encounters, and in this strange and incestuous hierarchy, I was definitely her inferior. Or so she thought. No matter how much I hated her for what she’d done to me, no matter how much I wanted to rip at her flesh with my aching teeth, it took every ounce of self-possession to hold myself steady and ignore the perspiration at my temples. This time I wouldn’t back down. Couldn’t. The more I held her glower, returning it full force in fact, the more her color darkened. An impasse. Her hate practically frothed and gathered at her mouth, but I glared on, unbridled. I am your equal!
She got the message loud and clear, and she made no secret of how much she hated not being able to leap at my throat, I could see it in the slaughterous set of her features. Her raised hackles. The expectant hush. The room seemed to tremble with the tension that roiled between us.
Suddenly, Augustus moved to stand between us, like a concrete wall, and, with a severe look (as if to say, “Pay attention!”), he neutralized (or neutered) the threatening tension. I blinked the strange fixation away.
“We need to put her down before the transition.” Nicole’s venomous words flew at me. “Why are we even discussing this? Of course she’s a threat. When have mongrels ever not been?”
“A threat we can contain,” Augustus seethed.
“The law speaks for itself!” came a booming voice from the back. “Why should we make any exceptions. Who the hell is she to us?”
My eyes raked the crowd, settling on a barrel-chested figure leaning against the far wall. If anyone looked werewolfish he did, with his wild beard, fierce mien, and rangy arms.
“Nothing, as a matter of fact,” Aidan replied coolly, “but the same can't be said for Tristan. And I’ve yet to determine if the repercussions are worth our interference.”
“Ain’t he the one that bit her?”
“That’s a lie—” The rest of my objection was rudely forestalled by Augustus’ iron fingers clamping down almost to my bones. I gave a grunt of pain.
“Interrupt again and you’ll only make matters worse for yourself.” His words were dangerously low.
“Tristan’s offense is a matter for his alpha,” Aidan replied to the man at the back.
“For the sake of equity, shouldn’t the Council of Alpha’s be involved, considering who he is?” A different voice had now joined the debate—a woman’s, clear and without heat. If there was any sympathy to be had here, limited though it was, her expression was the only one that held any for me.
“Sylvie’s right,” Nicole said unexpectedly. “His father and brother won’t act objectively. Give him to the council and let them mete out his punishment.”
“Hmm, yes.” Aidan sent her si
ster a quelling look. “Blood is thicker than water. It seems there’s nothing we won’t do for family.” Next she turned to consider me. “But we’re here to decide Evan’s fate, not Tristan’s.”
“You think the Southeast will pose a threat if she’s harmed?” said the lycanthropic giant I’d locked eyes with earlier.
“I do, Heath.”
As in Heathcliff? He certainly fit the bill—swarthy and menacing.
“Well,” said Heath, “he shouldn’t have broken pack law.”
“No,” Aidan agreed, “yet the point is still that the girl was bitten. Let’s not lose sight of why we’re here tonight.”
So far, I understood enough from this evening’s debate to know that The Bite was hugely taboo, the crime in and of itself as heinous as the stigma of being bitten.
“It’s not worth the risk to make exceptions for her just because of who bit her,” Heath went on gruffly. “Rules are rules.”
“Agreed, but what’s the rush in euthanizing her—” Aidan spared Nicole a keen look “—before we know for certain if she’s rabid or not.”
“Because I wouldn’t put it past Tristan to sneak over here and steal her away.” Nicole again. “He’d never kill her, foaming at the mouth or not, and then we’d all be guilty of negating our duty to prevent her attacking the public and putting us all at risk. Every single pack, not just ours, would be at risk. Heaths right, it's not worth it.”
“Neither is a pack war worth one mutt’s death,” Augustus rejoined, ignoring the blatant looks of dubiety.
“Tristan’s ole man wouldn’t let it come to that,” Nicole said confidently. “Nor would Dean.”
“You, sure about that?” Sylvie asked, her gaze stoic.
“Once we put the girl down, Tristan will see reason.”
“Clearly he’s proven he has none.” This from Heath, punctuated with a disgusted snort.
One after the other, opinions were weighed, and all the while Aidan watched on like a preeminent goddess. By now I’d had enough, my spleen rupturing with pent-up frustration. “You’re all wrong about him! Mongrel or not, I’m standing right here. Don’t talk about me as if I’m dead already.”
“You’re as good as,” Nicole spat. Then she turned to face her pack-mates. “I propose we make an example of the mutt and teach Tristan a well-deserved lesson.” She waited a beat and the tension increased. “I invoke Lupum Caedes.”
The audible gasps and ensuing, heavy silence was evidence enough that I was not going to like whatever that entailed. Didn’t caedis mean slaughter?
“That’s archaic!” Augustus thundered, whipping his head around to Aidan who was silently studying her sister’s self-satisfied smirk. “You can’t seriously be considering that, Aidan? It’s crazy!”
“What’s Lupum Caedes?” I shifted my gaze between the alpha and her lunatic sister warily. But everyone ignored me, my trembling voice lost amidst the crescent murmuring.
At last, Aidan raised her hand for silence, took a deep breath, and allowed her gaze to drift across the animated faces. Finally, it settled over mine, seemingly unaffected by my silent pleading. “It is unorthodox,” she said, turning a reflective gleam towards her pack.
“Defunct, you mean,” Augustus growled.
“Yes. As your alpha, I advise against it. However, this is not a dictatorship so I am willing to put it to a vote.” Then she lifted her chin an imperceptible degree. “You’ve all heard our sister’s testimony as evidenced by the girl before you.”
I shook my head, aghast. “What evidence?! The only one guilty of anything is Nicole.” I ripped my arm from Augustus’ restraining grip and threw a damning finger at Nicole. “She bit me!” But my accusation had about as much effect as a toddler throwing a toy from its cot.
Nicole folded her arms smugly. “I told you she’d say anything to protect him. For all we know she probably asked him to bite her. They’re both sick.”
“Liar! The thing that bit me had blue—”
“Why would I condemn my own fiancé?” she snarled. “No, you’re both getting exactly what you deserve.” Then she swiftly turned to Aidan again. “Just muzzle the damn mutt.”
Aidan spared her sister a quelling look. “I’ll muzzle you both if you’re not careful.”
“I say we allow the Council of Alphas to deal with Tristan and his little pet,” said Augustus, moving to block my view of Nicole again. “We should never have been involved in the first place.” There were a few nods of agreement, but not nearly as many as I’d have liked.
I kept shooting the door desperate looks as though expecting Tristan to fly into the room at any second. I blamed Nicole for planting that hope when she’d inferred that he might try to ‘sneak’ in and ‘steal’ me away. Rescue me. Why hadn’t he come yet? Why was I alone in all this? Was I delusional or had he bitten me after all? I rubbed my aching shoulder. A kernel of doubt had already been sown (Nicole’s fault), despite the blue eyes still haunting me, and I hated myself for feeling confused and desperate. My emotions were running amok inside me. No! I couldn’t doubt Tristan now. Hope was all that was keeping me sane.
“Fine, let them deal with Tristan then,” Nicole was saying. “But she—” she stepped around Augustus to scowl at me “—has to die. The transition will probably kill her anyway, why not put the runt down before her first cycle. That’s humane, isn't it?”
“I’m not convinced she will die,” Augustus argued. By now their argument had come full circle again. “If she does turn rabid, let Tristan put her down. It serves him right.”
I balled my fists.
“A vote then,” Nicole said, glancing at Aidan. At her sister’s stoic nod she went on. “Who here wants a little bloodsport? Why shouldn’t we be the ones to see justice served? The Yukon alpha will more than likely thank us for disposing of the mutt quietly and quickly. He’d be grateful to us for not dragging his son before the council.” There were cheers of agreement all around.
But when Aidan spoke the clamor stilled instantly. “So what you’re proposing is this: her death to satisfy Tristan’s violation? To punish him. And the bloodsport to satisfy your bloodlust for Tristan’s hide?”
With increasing horror I noticed that the pack was in agreement, the latter part especially having cinched their approval—I would die and all would go back to how it had been before I’d had the audacity to get myself bitten. My life as forfeit for Tristan’s offense.
Nicole smirked, satisfied with my imminent death sentence. “Yes. We’ll have our Lupum Caedes and in return, we’ll give Maxwell Thorn the satisfaction of sweeping his son’s little scandal under the rug. No one’s gonna start a war over some little mongrel, not when there’s no body left to war over. Max will control Tristan.”
No body? What the hell were they going to do to me?
“Next time Tristan will think better of screwing a—” She faltered a moment. “Of screwing with nature.”
“Are you people nuts?!” They aren’t people, Ev. Remember that. To Nicole, specifically, I said, “Tristan will rip you apart when he finds out what you’ve done!”
The pack, however, jeered and muttered excitedly.
“So this is your final judgment?” Aidan asked the assembly. In response, she received a hearty roar of affirmation. “All in favor of Lupum Caedes show a raise of hands?” Only Aidan, Augustus, and a handful of others, Sylvie included, kept their claws at their sides. Aidan gave a curt nod. “It’s decided then.”
I stood frozen on the makeshift dais, the wolves chattering animatedly as they stood and filed out after Nicole. Aidan was the last to leave, her face grim as she gave Augustus a pointed look from the door. After a moment she too was gone and all was silent except for the insects and night murmurings. Only Augustus and I remained in the old building now.
I raised my face to his and saw that he was watching me pityingly. “What is Lupum Caedes?”
“A very old rite saved only for the very worst offenders.”
“They’re goin
g to…will I be…?”
“Slaughtered.” He nodded.
“Well, thanks for sugar-coating it.” I sounded strangely anesthetized despite the tremor in my voice. “When?”
“The new moon. Lupum Caedes is always on a new moon.”
I glanced out the smokey window to see the waning yellow crescent glowing in the black sky behind the jagged tree line. Not long then. A fatal lump pulsed thickly in my chest. It was so painful, and my throat so parched, that I could barely swallow the tears that I’d licked from my parched lips. “He’ll come for me.” But, like the moon, even my conviction was waning. “Earlier, Nicole said—”
“No, he won’t.” His words were rueful. “You’re in Red Devil now. None but the pack know where our conclaves take place. Or where we keep our convicted. But more than that, you’re in the territory of one of the strongest packs in North America. No one—not even the Yukon heir—would dare trespass on another alpha’s territory. Especially not Aidan’s. Not without an army at his back.”
30
New Moon
The hours passed, so did the days and nights (which I measured by the arrival of each of my meals), but there was no lupine army come to rescue me. Tristan never came. The New Moon, however, arrived with lethal swiftness. The darkness outside was so absolute that I could feel the weight of it even through my concrete hell. My time was up.
It was ironic how time raced or slowed in excruciating defiance of the heart’s most desperate wish. I’d dared to blink and now it was time to die.
After the conclave I’d been returned to the austere, windowless cell I’d first woken up in, then fed and watered like an unloved pet. Kept healthy for the slaughter. I shivered at the thought, revulsed enough to want to heave my dinner. But I kept it down and conserved my strength despite the terror—I had no intention of dying meekly; no intention of allowing them to cannibalize me. If that’s what they even meant to do. Did wolves eat their own kind in nature? No, I didn’t think so. But humans did. It seemed that werewolves possessed the worst traits of both species.
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