Bitter Truth

by Heather Hildenbrand

  Everyone quieted.

  “If everyone will take a seat we will begin the second test in the competition for the Vuk alpha, also known as the Test of Knowledge.” He paused to let the shuffling subside as everyone found a seat and fell silent. “Each young lady will be asked questions to test her knowledge of history, tradition, and customs. In light of the future joining of our two races, it has been decided these questions shall include knowledge of both werewolves and vampires.”

  A murmur of voices went up, too loud to be ignored. I shot a look at the council but none of them looked surprised. Sylvia’s gaze slid to mine and her willowy shoulders snapped back as if the sight of me made her stiff. I looked away.

  “Quiet, please,” Mr. Rossi said. There was something commanding about his polite tone. The crowd obeyed. “I will be delivering the questions, but please note they have all been approved by your pack alpha and beta as well as the entire council.” I looked over once more just in time to see Carter’s dad roll his eyes. “Girls. Please join me on stage.”

  I could feel the stares boring into my back as I rose. Some of them vampire, some werewolf, none particularly friendly. Except maybe Owen. But even he was distant and cool, playing a role. It wasn’t an expression I particularly wanted to see so I kept my body facing forward and climbed the steps to the stage.

  Regan joined me and the hum of voices turned to clapping and a couple hoots. She didn’t look at me. Her jaw was set and her fists clenched at her sides. I knew her well enough by now to know her rigidity was more than just the competition.

  I followed her gaze out into the crowd, curious what had set her off. I knew she was still angry about Owen and me, but she seemed to be looking past that. To the edges of the gathering, the standing spectators beyond the chairs. Beyond the edge of the canopy.

  Between pale faces and dark jackets I caught sight of a face and went still. It was the man I’d seen weeks ago, on the day of my hunt with Regan. He’d been the one watching me when Regan had gone after the deer. With everything else, I’d forgotten him. But here he was. This, I realized, must be Valentino.

  But he was on our side. I knew Owen had spoken with him last night and intended to work with him to keep a close eye out while Regan and I were onstage. He was an ally. So if he hadn’t put the heart in my stage room, who had?

  Mr. Rossi cleared his throat, and I blinked, struggling to refocus. “Regan?”

  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.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Regan

  I couldn’t believe it. She’d won. Charlie had won the Test of Knowledge.

  It didn’t matter that the questions had been about mostly vampires—a subject neither of us could be expected to know much about. It grated that somehow Charlie did know, although I suspected where she’d gotten her information from. But mostly, I felt shock. I’d never expected her to win. Or the competition to be this close.

  She actually had a chance at becoming alpha. Which meant I was closer than I liked to losing.

  It would all come down to the Test of Endurance.

  I kicked at a pine cone that had fallen from the massive canopy of needles. I was antsy to get home but Dad and Sheridan were behind closed doors with the vampire king and queen and had been ordered not to be disturbed. Until they emerged, I was stuck here in vampire-land. I’d slipped away to the woods for privacy—and to brood.

  “I thought I’d find you here.”

  I jumped and then scowled. “Carter, what do you want?”

  He faced me squarely, his chin jutting out in a determined look. “You want to run or fight?”

  “What?”

  “I know your guts are twisting about what just happened. I also know we’re facing an hour car ride home. In case it’s me who’s stuck riding with you, I’d much prefer to help you cool off this way than take my chances in the confines of the car.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest. I wanted to argue with him, tell him he was wrong, that I was fine. But I couldn’t. Not honestly. “It was rigged,” I said.

  I kicked another pine cone. I was fully aware my missed question had everything to do with being a werewolf, not a vampire—a fact that gave me no leg to stand on if we were being technical. Which, I wasn’t.

  But Carter didn’t mention it. Instead, he snorted in agreement and said, “Since when does an alpha competition include vampire facts?”

  I could’ve kissed him right then—again. “Since never! I was robbed.”

  Carter’s expression turned serious. “Do you think it was a setup?”

  I blew out a breath. “Wouldn’t matter. I can’t say anything. Not after what Brent pulled in the Test of Strength. She could argue that it makes us even. Damn him.” And that was where my temper flared. Knowing I couldn’t even speak up about the unfairness of the questions or how Mr. Rossi so clearly favored Charlie. Not after how my own pack had tried to sabotage Charlie.

  “So you want to fight then?” Carter asked.

  “No, I want to … I want to…”

  “What?”

  I stopped pacing and faced him squarely. I was just mad enough to eliminate the fear. Just mad enough to bring it up. And I had to know because the confusion ate at me even through all this competition stuff.

  “Why did you kiss me?” I blurted.

  His eyes widened. “You want to talk about this now?”

  “I’ve wanted to talk about it since it happened,” I admitted. “Now’s as good a time as any.”

  He ran a hand over his hair, a gesture that looked foreign on him. I rarely saw Carter rattled. He was almost as quick as me at recovering his emotions. I liked that about him. Although this was interesting to watch.

  He rolled his shoulders in a tense sort of shrug. “Lots of reasons.”

  “Pick one.”

  “Fine. I was sick of not kissing you. And you were crying. And then you were looking at me with your insanely huge eyes and ... what else was I supposed to do?”

  “I don’t know. Pat me on the back. Make fun of me. Whatever we usually do.”

  “What if I don’t want to do that anymore?”

  I opened my mouth, closed it again. “You can’t answer a question with a question.”

  “I can’t— This isn’t—” He blew out a breath and his features relaxed, almost as if he’d made peace with the conversation. “You aren’t asking the right question, Regan.”

  “What’s the right question?”

  His gaze leveled with mine and I was startled to see how close he stood. When had he moved? “The question is why didn’t you stop me?”

  My breath caught. The way he was looking at me should’ve annoyed me. Th
is was Carter. I’d known him my entire life and never thought about him this way before. Had I?

  “Aren’t you going to say something?” he asked, his voice gruff and low. His face was bent so close to mine, I felt his breath on my forehead. All I had to do was raise my head and he’d kiss me. I’d feel the heat from before, spreading everywhere. My fingertips tingled at the thought.

  Before I could move, Carter’s hand came under my chin and tipped my face upward. His lips met mine halfway. Light at first, then firm and warm. Just as I’d anticipated, the heat began. It built slowly, like the kiss, growing warmer and warmer as our mouths moved against each other. By the time we finally broke apart, I was positive I was going to burn from the inside out.

  “Carter...”

  “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he whispered.

  Without the heat to distract me, reality seeped in slowly. The competition. The alpha role. Owen. The wedding.

  I groaned and reluctantly stepped back, putting some distance between us. It did nothing to dampen the fireworks currently exploding inside me.

  Carter’s brows drew together. “What is it?”

  “We can’t do this,” I said. “Us. The kissing. It’s horrible timing. I mean, why’d you have to go and say something now? We’ve been friends all this time, and then you go and do something like kiss me. And the problem is, I loved it, and now I have to win and marry Owen and—”

  “Stop.”

  I paused in my rambling long enough to look at him. “What?”

  A grin threatened the corners of his mouth. “You loved it?”

  “Yes, but that’s not the point. Didn’t you hear what I said?”

  “Regan.” He closed the distance, taking my elbows in his hands to hold me still. “I don’t care about all that other stuff. We’ll figure it out later. Right now, I care about one thing.”

  “What?”

  He grinned and it was ridiculous how adorable I found him. “You love kissing me.”