Bitter Rivalry

by Heather Hildenbrand

  “Carter’s in a weird funk,” she said finally.

  “I bet he is,” I said, grabbing a towel from the bag I’d brought with me and patting my face. Even this early, there was still enough heat forming to have worked up a sweat. “Sucks knowing he’s lost his spot,” I added, because I knew as his sister, Bevin was probably bummed too.

  “I don’t think it’s that,” she said.

  “The Rossi thing?” I asked, frowning. I still couldn’t believe Dad had made a deal with those monsters.

  “Yes, I think so,” she admitted. “But it’s not …”

  I reached for a couple of waters and tossed one over. She caught it easily but only fiddled with it absently. My impatience got the better of me and I rolled my eyes.

  “Spit it out, Bev. What’s up?” I asked.

  Bevin’s eyes darted to mine and when they held there, their dark-blue depths reminded me so much of Carter, I had to step back. There was the warmth of friendship I wasn’t accustomed to with my own family but it came with such a deep streak of loyalty that burned hot against the early morning, I wondered how I’d never seen it before. Maybe I’d never had a reason.

  Her muscled arms moved the cap to the water bottle until it twisted freely. Still, she only cupped it without lifting it to her lips. Her angular face was tight with tension and I watched as her jaw muscle worked while her mind searched for words.

  “He won’t let you marry Rossi—if it comes to that,” she said finally.

  “What do you mean he ‘won’t let me?’” I repeated, a twinge of something strange lacing my gut. “It’s not up to Carter. He’s not beta—”

  “It’s not about beta,” Bevin huffed. “It’s about you, Regan. You don’t even see—” She threw up her hand and instead of finishing the statement, she tossed back the contents of the bottle, chugging until it was empty.

  Still, I stood in confusion.

  Bevin tossed the bottle into my open bag and swiped at her mouth with a suntanned arm. She stepped closer until we stood eye to eye. Our height had always been perfectly matched, with Bevin’s shoulders and hips just a little wider than mine. Seventeen years of tight friendship seemed to pass between us and then the heat flared again.

  “I won’t let you lose,” she said fiercely. “No matter what, you will lead. But Carter … it will hurt him if you marry Rossi. I can’t stop that. I can’t help it. You’re my alpha, Regan. But you’re also my friend. So I’m telling you this. If Carter finds out, he’ll skin me, but there it is. Do what you want with it.”

  She spun on her heel, snatched her own bag from the field, and retreated toward the woods that bordered home. I watched her go, still sifting through her words, trying to decipher their meaning. What did it matter to Carter who I married? All he wanted was to be beta. Probably so he could argue with me every day until it killed us.

  And what the heck was up with Bevin’s crazy-eyed promise of my victory? It sounded an awful lot like a threat. And the weird part was I didn’t like the idea of anyone threatening my little sister.

  Chapter Seven

  Charlie

  I hadn’t meant to sleep, but when I opened my eyes the light through the window was pre-dawn gray. I whipped the covers aside and hurried over for a closer look. Nothing moved in the yard below me. It was hard to see if the coast was clear with my weak human eyes.

  I needed to get out of the house.

  Somewhere between getting shown around the little hole of a town and being told I was semi-betrothed to some guy I’d never met, I had made a decision: daughter of the alpha or not, I was not going to put up with some crazy werewolf pack running my life.

  I was leaving, and there was nothing they could say to stop me. If they found me and dragged me back a hundred times, I’d leave a hundred and one. Maybe, eventually, they’d get sick of it and just leave me be.

  I dressed quickly, as quietly as I could in the still house. Every creak underneath my feet felt like an alarm, but no one came. At the door, I hesitated. The tiny cell phone was a pulsing temptation on my nightstand, but in the end, I left it behind. Mom would be worried, but I couldn’t go back there. Not right away. It’s the first place they’d check, starting with the phone records for this little number they’d so graciously provided. I was new to pack life, not born yesterday.

  I eased my bedroom door open, fully expecting Brent to be standing there glaring at me. But the hall was empty. Apparently, they’d graduated me to “trustworthy at night.”

  I held my breath the entire way downstairs, so sure someone was going to snatch me from behind or block my path. But as I tore across the backyard and into the thick woods beyond, my inner wolf rising to the surface, the feeling of freedom was unmistakable.

  I’d made it. I was getting out.

  I ran all-out for three miles before I stopped to breathe. By then, even my wolf was exhausted and breathless. My sides heaved as my animal lungs gasped for air. It was only a matter of time before they realized I was gone. I could really only allow short breaks like this before resuming my journey north. I had to get out of the forest before they caught my scent or it was over.

  I hadn’t even meant to go this way, but like a magnet drawn to its other half, my heart was leading me to Oregon. Maybe I could call my mom and have her meet me. We could run together. Settle in the next destination. Resume our life somewhere else, like we’d always done.

  I started running again, deeper into the dark growth. The trees were closer together and didn’t let the first hints of sunlight reach the ground, especially now, when the horizon was only beginning to catch a hint of the coming day. Shadows hunched in shadows. I caught a strange scent just ahead and faltered.

  It was like nothing I’d ever smelled before. The smell was sickly sweet, reminding me of a dead animal in the woods that hadn’t begun to rot. But something else mixed with it. Something unique and alluring in its strangeness. I wandered closer, both wary and curious.

  Leaves parted and the path up ahead broke open, giving me a full view. With my animal’s sharpened senses, it took only seconds to spot the source.

  There, standing in the cradle of a fallen tree, was a person. He was definitely male, solid without appearing overly muscular. I sniffed. Not a werewolf but … not quite human either. My nose twitched at that even as my brain rejected it. Those were the only two choices—it didn’t make sense.

  He stood on the broken log of an ancient oak and leaned against another tree, breaking branches with his hands. He snapped another twig and his lip curled, like he was disgusted by it somehow. I padded closer, the curious animal in me drawn to this strange specimen. He smelled strange; exotic and dangerous. There was something about him...

  I crept closer, trying to get a better look at him. Even from here, the strong line of his jaw was tense and through his tee I saw that his shoulders were rigid with stress. He moved quickly from branch to snapped branch—faster than any other human I’d seen. And precise, as if despite the speed, every movement was measured and calculated down to the second.

  As he moved, my attention caught not on his impossible speed, but on his face. Strong, silent, and masculine—except for the thick lashes that framed sharp, piercing irises.

  My wolf muscles contracted automatically at the sight of them. Predator, every nerve in me screamed. I shook it away—that was crazy. He was a person.

  As if I’d called the words aloud, his eyes snapped up, searching and scanning the undergrowth. I held my breath and froze. The hair on the sides of my neck rose in panic. How had he heard my silent footsteps? No human could have heard that.

  His eyes tracked over the trees and settled on the very spot I was crouched in. His gaze seemed to lock onto mine, despite the distance and brush cover that separated us. The animal in me spooked; the desire to flee was overwhelming. But something made me hesitate.

  One second was all it took.

  He was on me faster than a blink. Arms extended in a full-body tackle, we went down and rolled acros
s the forest floor. My snarls mixed with his grunts as we both struggled for the upper hand. I’d never actually fought someone before, let alone in my wolf form. I’d wrestled around a little with my mother as a pup, but nothing like this. It was terrifying. I wasn’t sure how long I could go without actually hurting him. Despite his amazing speed and accuracy, he was still a person. And I was a wolf.

  But even as I thought it, the strange sweet smell from earlier grew thicker around me until it filled my nostrils and drove out everything else. My wolf wanted to kill whatever was attached to that smell. The human in me was horrified.

  He tried driving his fist into my shoulder, but I dodged him and jumped back as I scrambled to my feet.

  I circled him, wary of his speed and the deadly look in his eyes. He didn’t look nearly as afraid as I thought he should. He looked ... vicious. Up close, his hair was darker than mine and long enough to fall just short of his brow. It contrasted sharply with his fair skin, like someone who didn’t spend much time outside. And his eyes—those were the worst. I found it hard to look away, especially with him staring at me so intently, but there was a violence underneath his calm intensity that made me think twice about his slight build.

  Something in him wanted to hurt me just as badly as I did him.

  He came at me again and I dodged, crouching into a low, threatening stance. I pulled my lips back from my teeth and growled in what I hoped was a menacing sound. Instead of turning and running, he just planted his feet and narrowed his eyes. His jaw was set like he was more determined than ever.

  “Come on, then. Screw a truce. You want to take me down, don’t you?”

  The sound of his voice was unexpected, maybe because I couldn’t summon the use of mine in my own shock and panic of our fight. It startled me, and he saw his opening. He lunged and his arms found their way around me. His hands clasped my neck and squeezed. Within seconds, my windpipe began to close underneath the pressure. I heard myself yelp before it morphed into something like a whimper.

  “Not so scary without your pack, are you?” he demanded in a crooning voice that left no doubt he’d killed before—and that he intended to do it again now. “It would’ve taken a lot more than one of you to take me down. You should’ve stuck with your friends.”

  I tried to yelp, call out, anything to make him let up on the pressure around my neck. But I couldn’t breathe, much less talk. I couldn’t even think. He obviously thought I was part of the pack and had decided to even some score he had with them. I didn’t have a way to convince him I wasn’t.

  Suddenly it didn’t matter what he was—human, wolf, or otherwise—this was it. He was nothing more than my murderer.

  His pressure increased and I knew there wasn’t a thing I could do to stop it. Well, there was one thing I could do, but if I was wrong, it would only speed up my death. I was starting to feel light-headed and I knew I didn’t have much time no matter what I chose, so did the only thing left.

  I shifted.

  My attacker’s eyes widened as, slower than usual under the physical strain, my human form returned. When my limbs had separated into two arms and two legs, and flesh replaced fur, I felt his grip loosen as my throat slimmed to the breadth of a girl instead of a wolf. I sucked in a ragged breath, desperate to recover before he could compensate for the difference and choke me again.

  “What the...?” He jerked his hands away and I rolled away, gasping and jerking as oxygen struggled to return to my lungs. I couldn’t even get off my hands and knees.

  I was hacking and coughing into the dirt, my eyes watering, when a blurred hand appeared in front of me.

  I blinked to clear my vision before I allowed my gaze to travel up his arm to his face. He looked different now that I had human eyes. Instead of simply pale, his skin was radiant in its translucence. Beautiful, really. He was tall and slender and brooding, with those same piercing eyes. Only now, they were mesmerizing, drawing me in. Inviting me to uncover the secrets held deep inside them. They widened, his lashes spreading and lifting as he stared back at me, full lips parted in surprise. He looked just as stunned to see me as I was to see him.

  I tensed, half-expecting him to use his still-extended hand to attack me again. But he didn’t.

  Strange as it was, there was something in that handsome face that made me relax despite the violence a moment ago. Maybe it was the way his parted lips softened the jagged lines of his jaw and cheekbones, or the way his hair curled gently over his ears, but there was something gentle underneath the cold demeanor.

  Against all logic, I trusted him.

  “Thanks,” I managed, finally taking his hand and allowing him to pull me to my feet. His skin was cool, but it felt good after the heat of the fight. He let out a short laugh and I looked up at him as I straightened, self-conscious about how disheveled I must be. “What?” I asked, warily. Even after the single word, my throat ached. It would probably keep hurting until I healed it by shifting again. But I’d stay human if it meant he backed off and stopped trying to kill me.

  “I just finished trying to kill you and you’re thanking me?” he asked, brows raised in a perfect arch.

  “Not for the almost killing part,” I said. “But for the helping me up part. Or for not killing me.”

  “Well, which is it?” he asked, brows still arched, but now it seemed more of a challenge.

  “Take your pick,” I said with a shrug that said I couldn’t care less.

  His lips curved in amusement. “You’re not part of the pack,” he said.

  “Does that mean you’re not going to try and kill me again?” I asked.

  His eyes crinkled in a smile, forming tiny lines at the edges that only served to make him hotter. “Only if you promise the same restraint,” he said.

  “Deal.” I eyed him, still wary but relieved.

  Farther out, a bird called and I jumped. Subtle, but I could see that he noticed. He kept his distance even as his expression softened. “What are you doing out here, little wolf? Far from home, I take it.”

  I hesitated. I couldn’t tell him the truth. He obviously knew the pack. The last thing I needed was him mentioning that he’d seen me here.

  “Running,” I said, shrugging like it was no big deal.

  “Running,” he repeated. He quirked a brow at me, clearly unimpressed. The gesture, the way it highlighted his warm eyes and thick lashes, made my heart pump faster.

  “What are you doing out here?” I countered, making my tone as rude as possible to cover my nerves.

  “Same as you,” he said. And after a brief hesitation of his own, added, “Escaping.”

  I wanted to ask him from what but then I’d have to tell him my own issues. I wasn’t ready for that quite yet so I asked the next question. “What the hell are you, anyway? I’ve never seen someone fight like you.”

  “You’ve never seen someone...” He trailed off, staring at me with even wider eyes than before. “Do you mean…?”

  “Do I mean what?” I asked. He didn’t answer, only watched me in something like suspicion. “Well? Are you going to answer me?”

  “You either don’t know or … But you must know. You’ve got to be joking. This is a prank. Who sent you? Is your pack watching this? Is that Regan watching right now?” He turned in circles, peering into the forest around us.

  “No one’s watching.” I hope, I added silently. I didn’t want to think of how the pack would react to seeing their possible future alpha’s ass getting kicked.

  I folded my arms across my chest, attempting to look like I meant business. Mostly because the way he was looking at me was making my heart race pulse at ridiculous speeds—even my wolf pulse wasn’t this high. Ridiculous, I told myself. No boy had ever affected me this way. Not that he was a boy. Clearly he was something else. “I’m being serious,” I added, hoping I sounded convincing. “I know you’re … something other. What are you?”

  He turned back to me and when I blinked again, he was standing a foot away from me. I jump
ed back and he grinned. His canines were lengthened into fine points, almost like mine when I was a wolf, but more slender. Like the fangs of a snake. His breath hit my cheek in puffs of sweet air.

  “I’m a vampire,” he breathed.

  A vampire.

  Nothing should have surprised me after everything else I had been through. I mean, I was a teen werewolf, who had grown up with a werewolf mom, and I had been kidnapped by a whole pack of werewolves. There was nothing normal about growing fur and a tail whenever I wanted. So if we existed, didn’t it make sense that other supernaturals would, too?

  But I always imagined vampires being something creepy and slimy lurking in a castle, like Dracula with his big cape and the overblown Transylvanian accent. This guy was nothing like that. He looked strong, but slender, and when he spoke it felt as though I was being caressed with his silken voice. His eyes smoldered with dark fire that was both alluring and deadly all at once.

  If he had said he was a model or an actor, I would have believed him. Or even a hypnotist or snake charmer or some other trained magician. But a vampire?

  On the other hand, the fangs were pretty convincing.

  “Oh,” I said finally. It probably sounded just as stupid as it felt to say it, but my brain wasn’t capable of producing anything better at the moment.

  He laughed. It was a wonderful, rich sound, and I found myself unconsciously leaning toward him. “You really had no idea,” he said softly, shaking his head, and then almost to himself he added, “You’re very unexpected.”

  “I mean, you’re not what I thought a vampire would look like,” I said, trying—and failing again—to come up with some quick-witted response. But my brain felt stuck on processing the word he’d given me. Vampire. Is that why my wolf wanted to attack him? Were we natural enemies or something?

  “I do hope that’s a compliment,” he said.

  I felt my cheeks heat and let my answer drop. “I didn’t know vampires were real. That sounds silly but I guess I thought … Shifters, wolves, were the only supernatural thing out there.”