It certainly won't happen again tonight. You are no longer welcome at the feast. You will go get your things. You will speak to no one, and you will go home. Marie stood over Katherine, who lay on the ground looking up at the Alpha wolf.
Katherine whined a pathetic, apologetic whine.
Marie leaned down and caught the soft flesh at the side of Katherine's neck in her mouth. Not hard enough to hurt— Claire could see the space between her teeth—but enough to make Katherine's eyes widen.
I will not be disobeyed. Marie left Katherine shaking on the forest floor. She scooped up the rabbit and began trotting back in the direction of the fire, with Beatrice close behind her. Claire hesitated, staring for a moment at Katherine's pleading expression aimed at the retreating forms of Beatrice and Marie.
Judith brushed past her, following the others. Get used to it. There is no law except pack law. Let's go.
A sudden anger flared inside Claire. What Katherine did was wrong—stupid, even. This was no game—she'd seen that last summer. Every time they were in the woods it was a lifeand-death risk, but tonight they had good reason to be extra cautious. Her anger grew as she considered Katherine's recklessness. And over a stupid rabbit.
This was, she realized, exactly the sort of thing that made her mother think she had to control every inch of what happened in the pack. Which meant that Claire would suffer the consequences of Katherine's actions. There would be more rules, more commands, because it was the only way Marie knew how to keep them all safe.
Claire turned to go with the others, leaving Katherine alone in the heart of the woods.
They finished the rest of the ceremony quickly, the mood in the clearing gray and muted as a cloud.
Claire walked alongside her mother as they made their way back toward the house. Marie looked more tired than usual, the circles under her eyes shadowed nearly black by the moon, but she seemed as calm as ever. Claire watched out of the corner of her eye as her mother stepped carefully over tree roots and ducked under the low, leafless branches that reached for her hair like thin-fingered hands.
There was no scent of anger in the air. No reminder of what had passed between her mother and Katherine.
"Mom?" she ventured, too curious to stay silent. "Are you still—I mean, the thing with Katherine—" Claire fumbled around for the right words.
"The thing with Katherine is finished. There is no need to dwell on it." Marie's voice was quiet. Steady.
"So, you're not angry?"
"No. That is not our way. And it is especially not my way. She erred, and as the Alpha it was my duty to correct her. So I did. One cannot lead the pack by carrying grudges or playing favorites. That path only ends in chaos." Marie shrugged. "There is the law, and it must be followed. It is my job to ensure that. My feelings for Katherine—who has been a loyal and faithful member of our pack for many years—have nothing to do with it."
It was so similar to what Judith had said that Claire shivered. But it made sense. There was no room for error in a werewolf 's life. The kindest thing a pack leader could do was to keep those mistakes from happening—to keep all the wolves alive. Even when it meant being strict. Even when it meant being merciless. Even when it made the wrinkles in Marie's forehead deeper and made her eyes look tired.
Lost in thought, Claire trailed behind her mother, reluctant to leave the forest. Things were harder underneath the trees. More dangerous. Even brutal.
But at least they were honest, which was a lot more than she could say for her human life.
Chapter Fourteen
THE CHILL THAT had been in the air turned into a true, aching cold over the next two weeks. The day before the dance, a bank of heavy, iron-gray clouds rolled in, and the weathermen excitedly predicted a few inches of snow by the weekend.
After school that Friday, Claire headed outside into the swirl of huge, feathery flakes. She bent her head against the falling snow. She stomped through the inch or so that was already on the ground, hurrying toward the parking lot and Emily's car. This weekend was going to be the most human, the most normal, that she'd had in ages, and she was going to enjoy every second of it. She and Emily were getting pre-ball pedicures, just the two of them.
The windows of Emily's car had been cleared off, and she could see Emily inside, her head bent over her phone as she texted furiously. Claire opened the back door and threw her book bag in.
"What's up?" she asked.
"Kate-Marie Brown is what," Emily griped. "She's ridiculous."
"Well, we agree on that." Claire shut the back door and opened the front, crawling into the passenger seat. No matter how long she dated Matthew or how many of the same parties they went to, Kate-Marie Brown and her inner circle of haute couture handmaidens still looked at Claire like she was as disposable as a paper cup.
"What'd she do now?" Claire asked.
"Okay, you know how I ended up getting that really fab black and silver dress?"
"Of course. It's amazing."
"Right. Well, somehow it came up in trig, and Kate-Marie freaked. I mean fuh-reaked. I guess she's wearing black jewelry and a silver dress, and she is not amused that I'm—and I quote—'jacking her color scheme.' How can anyone call dibs on a color? And why does she care, anyway? It's not like we're going to be posing for yearbook photos together."
"It's Kate-Marie," Claire said. "She thinks she can have whatever she wants. Do you want to go find a different dress, or do you want to suffer her wrath?"
Emily raised an eyebrow. "Are you joking? Kate-Marie might run some sort of high school empire in her head, but I don't give a crap what she thinks. And I hope you don't, either."
Claire shook her head. "Nope."
"Good. Then, let's go back to my house and do the manipedi thing."
Claire leaned back in her seat, feeling better about things with Emily than she had in ages. "Well, your house it is, then," she said happily.
By the time Claire got home, it was well after dark, and even the tips of the browning grass had disappeared under the snow. Emily had invited her to stay the night, but Claire hadn't wanted to push her luck quite that far.
She climbed the stairs and glanced down the hall at her mother's room. The door was shut, and Claire could hear her mother talking on the phone, though she couldn't make out what was being said. She turned and headed for her room. She wanted to try on her dress one more time, take a ridiculously long shower, and watch the Late Show in bed.
Her dress hung in the front of her closet, and just seeing the garment bag made Claire want to twirl around the room. She pulled it out, breathing in the crisp smell of silk and organza.
She yanked off the jeans and sweater she'd worn to school and slipped the dress over her head, shivering as the fabric slithered over her skin. The dress came to the floor, covering all but the tips of her shoes. She turned in the mirror, admiring the way the silk peeked through the overlay in the back. It was so girly.
With a sigh, she wriggled out of the dress and hung it back in its protective bag. She kicked her dirty clothes toward the laundry basket, wandered into her bathroom, and turned on the shower. Tomorrow night was going to be fabulous, and as far as she was concerned, it couldn't come fast enough.
When she got out of the shower, Claire heard her mother pacing the hall outside her room. She opened the door and stuck her head out.
"Mom? What's going on?"
Marie looked at her, and the expression on her mother's face startled Claire. Marie looked almost ecstatic. The dark circles under her eyes had faded, and there was a soft flush of pink in her normally bone-pale cheeks.
"Victoria has just had her baby," Marie announced. The excitement was coming off her in waves. "They are both fine, and Beatrice is as happy as I've ever heard her." She smiled broadly.
"That's great," Claire said, still mystified by the sudden change in her mother.
"I knew you'd want to know right away, since we'll be gathering tomorrow night for the naming. I assume you're ready to
light the fire?"
Claire froze. Tomorrow night. Oh, crap. No. This is not happening.
Her fingertips tingled unpleasantly as she tried to wrap her head around this sudden change in plans. She couldn't skip the ball to go to a gathering—it would look too suspicious. Not to mention how badly she'd be disappointing Matthew. The dance—the normal, human dance—was pretty much the only thing left holding them together. They'd both been looking forward to the ball for weeks. She wouldn't take that away from him. She couldn't.
"Is something wrong, chérie? You look . . . shocked." Marie cocked her head to the side, studying Claire.
"It's . . . I thought there would be a little more time." She bit her lip. "The dance is tomorrow night. I can't . . . there's no way I can miss it. Everyone will talk."
Marie lifted her eyebrows. "This should not be coming as a surprise, Claire. You knew Victoria's baby could be coming at any time. The gathering is not optional. And part of being a werewolf is learning how to make humans believe unbelievable things. This is a very important moment for our pack—a little party with your human friends is no comparison."
Claire leaned against the door frame. Emily's party. Oh god, she was going to miss Emily's after party. Her stomach churned.
"What time is the gathering?" she whispered.
"We will meet just before midnight—the ceremony begins on the stroke of a new day." Marie crossed her arms. "And you will not be late. I am sorry that the timing is bad for you. Truly." Just before midnight. That would give her time to go to the dance, at least. She'd just have to come up with a way to bail on the after party without ruining her relationship with her best friend.
Claire looked up at her mother. Marie's expression was firm, final. There was no point in arguing with her when she looked like that.
"Fine. I'll be there."
"Good. I will be looking forward to seeing you succeed." Her mother padded back down the hall to her room.
Claire walked back into her room and stared out the window at the woods. She sent Matthew a text, telling him to call her as soon as he could. If she was going to have any chance of pulling off the dance and the naming in the same night, she was going to need his help.
Like, a lot of his help.
While she waited for him to call, she thought about Victoria. Wondered if she'd manage to pick a name—if she was still as nervous as Claire was about the gathering. Claire wished she had some sort of special skill for naming, the way Victoria did with the fire lighting. . . .
The puzzle pieces slid together in her mind.
Maybe there was something she could try. If she could somehow hear the baby, maybe she would give her some sort of clue. And this time, at least, she'd be using her extra abilities for the right reasons—to help the pack.
Claire dug up some warm clothes and crept down the stairs. Sneaking out was risky, but she didn't have much choice. There was no way she was transforming in the house again.
Ever. The freezing air slipped inside the collar of her fleece, giving Claire goose bumps. The forest was quiet in the snow. It took forever to get anywhere, since she'd had to cover the footprints she'd made in the powdery white blanket covering the lawn. Halfway to the woods, she realized that she'd left her phone on her bedside table, where she'd plugged it in to charge.
Damn. If she missed Matthew's call—or if her mom heard the phone ringing and got suspicious about Claire not answering . . .
Damn.
She stood for a moment, the icy air pinching her ears with its sharp-nailed fingers, and weighed the risk of going back against her abandoned phone. She had already taken a huge chance by coming out at all—if she went back now, she might not be able to get out here again. She might as well go see what she could find out. That way, she'd at least have something to show for it if she got caught.
She bent her head over the path of her footprints and focused on getting herself into the safety of the forest as fast as she could.
In her practice clearing, she tossed off her clothes and transformed in a rush, trying to get into her wolf form before the cold seized her completely. As soon as she was changed, she focused on getting warm, using the wolf trick of holding the illusion of heat between her two forms. She thought about sunlight and about the hot sand of a white beach burning the soles of her feet. Slowly, her shivering stopped. Claire glanced down at her paws, which were tipped with deep-rose-colored claws. The nail polish had looked fantastic in her human form, but it looked ridiculous now that she was a wolf.
She shook herself. There was no time to waste. The longer she was gone, the bigger the chance that Marie would notice she had left. Claire sat down, her thick fur protecting her from the damp cold of the snow. She shook her head, hard, making her wolf ears flap and fluffing out the fur on her neck.
Feeling more relaxed, she shut her eyes and focused. She listened for Victoria first, since she was sure to be wherever the baby was. Claire tried to picture the little house where Beatrice and Victoria lived—the hospital would have meant too many hard questions, so Victoria had given birth at home. After a few moments, Claire heard a weary voice. It sounded as though it were filling the clearing, but Claire knew it was only in her head.
"She's so perfect," Victoria cooed. "Look at her little eyelashes! They're so curly."
"You're keeping her awake," Beatrice cautioned. "You should both be getting some rest."
"I know, I know. I just want to look at her."
Claire focused harder, heard the small grunting breaths of the baby. She concentrated on the sound. Listened for something. Anything. There was a pause, a tiny gasp, and then a mewling wail as the baby began to cry.
Startled, Claire lost focus and was suddenly very alone in the silence of the clearing.
Crap.
By the time she managed to hear Victoria again, the crying had stopped. The baby was still breathing a hitching sort of breath that sounded less than calm, though.
"Maybe she's hungry?"
Claire could hear Victoria's voice, but it sounded fainter, farther away. The baby's breath rang in her ears, so new, so full of meaning, even though she was still wordless. It was as though she was nothing more than the air that puffed in and out of her just-born body.
As the sound surrounded Claire, an idea drifted into her mind.
If her breath was all the baby had, why not name her after it?
The rightness of it settled over her. Victoria couldn't just use the word breath. It wasn't even a name. It was something Lisbeth would name a kid. But she could look up some name meanings, find something that fit.
Suddenly excited about the possibility of actually being able to help Victoria, Claire changed back into her human form, gasping as the cold air caught at her before she managed to get her clothes back on. As quickly as she could, she walked back to the house, carefully erasing her tracks as she went.
She slipped in the back door and stood leaning against it, listening hard to the noises of the house. She didn't hear anything at first, but then the furnace kicked off and there was a soft click-tap from the depths of the house, somewhere in the vicinity of Marie's darkroom.
Claire squeezed her eyes shut and made a silent run for her room.
When the door was safely closed behind her and she'd changed her clothes to get rid of the snow smell, Claire grabbed her phone.
One missed call. Crap.
Matthew'd left a short, call-me-back sort of message, but it was already nearly one o'clock in the morning—she'd been in the woods longer than she'd intended, and it was way too late to call him back now. She'd have to try him back in the morning. Kicking herself again for forgetting her phone, Claire sat down in front of her computer. At least she could finish the stuff for the naming. She pulled up a couple of baby-name websites.
In no time at all, she found exactly what she was looking for. The name hummed at the tip of her tongue, begging her to say it.
Chapter Fifteen
IN SPITE OF her late night, Claire
woke early the next morning, too excited and edgy to sleep in. Emily and Amy would be at her house after lunch, along with Lisbeth, who'd been all too happy to agree to run the pre-dance hair-andmakeup show.
But it was only a matter of hours until everyone showed up, and Claire had a lot to do before they got there. She'd need clothes to change into after the dance, since she couldn't exactly go traipsing into the woods in a gown. She dug through her closet, scrounged up an old duffel bag, and stuck some dark sweats and running shoes into it.
Marie knocked on her open door just as Claire was tugging the zipper closed.
"What is that for?" she asked, looking at the bag.
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