Chapter 23
Viviane’s POV
I wake to my mother sweeping up pearls littered around my sofa bed. “You shouldn’t be doing that.” I object instantly, sitting up.
She pulls the broom and dustpan out of my reach, “I’m not a complete invalid you know.” She looks me over dubiously. “Besides, I’m not the one in need of healing this morning.”
“It was just nightmares.” I deflect, rubbing my eyes drowsily.
“I’m not talking about the nightmares.” Mom replies coolly. “You should go take a look in the mirror.”
“Wh–” All at once it comes back to me: the scene in Caspian’s rooms; my refusal to leave; his shout; strange wolves grabbing me and carrying me off against my will; Caspian attacking his father. “Oh my god.” I murmur, sinking back down onto the couch. I quickly survey my bare arms and legs, finding them littered with bruises I earned trying to escape the wolves. My entire body is sore, and suddenly all my horrible nightmares make sense.
At first it was just Mordred, then his face changed, replaced with dozens of wolves I’ve met over the years: reapers in the pearl farms, classmates, neighbors. The sedative Chase injected me with may have knocked me out all night, but it did nothing to prevent me seeing Mordred’s face over and over again in my dreams.
“We should have left when I originally wanted to.” Mom says, watching my countenance ripple and change as I process everything that happened. “I never should have let that silver-tongued Alpha talk me out of it. Look at what he’s done to you!”
“Caspian told me to go when he realized what was happening.” I explain, “I didn’t listen.”
“If you say it was your fault I will wash your mouth out with soap, and don’t think I won’t. I might not have gotten the chance when you were little, but it’s still my right as your mother.” Mom grouses, pointing a warning finger my way. “You never should have been in that situation in the first place. And he responded like the brash, irresponsible, delinquent he’s always been.”
“I know.” I admit softly, memories of last night still uploading into my consciousness, growing worse with every minute. “You’re right. Last night was horrible. It’s the most frightening and upsetting thing that’s happened to me since Mordred. I thought… there were so many of them, I knew they were going to hurt me. I thought it was going to be all of them at once.” More pearls clatter to the ground and my mother comes over to wrap me up in her arms. “The danger wasn’t real – but the fear was. I still had to feel it all over again; relive every moment.”
“Whether it was Caspian’s fault or not,” Mom murmurs, “He’s not good for you. This never would have happened if he hadn’t convinced you to give him a chance. You never would have been at the games arena when Mordred was, Nerissa and the other girls at school wouldn’t be trying to expose your secret.”
I whimper and nod, recognizing the truth in her words and hating it. I should hate Caspian after what he put me through, yet all my stupid heart wants right now is to see him. “Do you know what happened after they took me out of the house, is he okay?”
“He’s fine.” Mom says somewhat bitterly, “he’s probably preparing for the first round of the games as we speak. You notice he hasn’t been here to check on you?”
“Maybe he can’t?” I suggest without hope.
“Listen to me, Viviane.” She enunciates. “Caspian is the second most powerful wolf in this territory, and an Alpha to boot. If he wants something, he’ll find a way to make it happen. It’s that simple.” Gentle hands frame my face. “He isn’t here, because he doesn’t deserve you. And he knows it.”
Caspian’s POV
I drop my head back against the wall, listening to every word of Viviane and Marina’s conversation with increasing shame, guilt, and self-disgust. I’m not even angry about Marina’s lie. I came straight here last night after finishing my discussion with the Alpha. Marina told me Viviane was still out cold, her small body more susceptible to the drug than my own.
I promised to come back first thing in the morning, but was warned my mate may not want to see me. Part of me even wonders if Marina was watching to see when I pulled up, so she could wake Viviane and have their conversation when I was within earshot. Maybe she did, maybe she didn’t. Neither changes the fact that everything she said is true.
It especially does not change the harm I inflicted on Viviane. Hearing her share her experience of the fiasco nearly broke my heart in two. They were completely right that everything which has happened in the past few weeks is the direct result of my interest in Viviane.
I leave the run-down apartment building as quickly as I came and head straight for the Arena. If there was ever a day I needed an excuse to punch something, it’s today.
As the opening ceremonies of the annual Pack Games kick off, the competitors gather in the locker rooms, donning the traditional gladiatorial garb required for the imminent skills presentation. That’s the excuse at least. We could all change at home if we wished. This is really just an opportunity to size each other up and look for signs of weakness or vulnerability in our opponents.
Despite brawling with my father and half the men in the pack house last night, my scarce wounds have already healed, so unless the other qualifiers can see my despondency, I should look as if I’m in top fighting form. Besides, tonight’s trials don’t involve any feats that will truly test my abilities, so it doesn’t matter if I’m only half here.
I look up when a familiar scent reaches my nose, taken aback to find my uncle walking towards me in his own gear.
He offers me a casual nod, “Caspian.”
“James,” I return his gesture. “I didn’t know you qualified.”
“I was a late entry.” He shrugs, clasping hands with a number of the other qualifiers and exchanging one-armed “man hugs”. I’m surprised to see he knows so many of the other wolves. Asterion is a very big city, and he’s never competed before. In fact I didn’t realize James did any training other than standard drills with the guards. Though he’s only three years older than me, my uncle has never attended any of the underground events the rest of the underage wolves use to train.
James has always been the angel to my devil, looking down on any kind of illicit activity and making it known how deeply he disapproves of my hobbies.
A sudden sense of foreboding assails me. I have a very bad feeling about James joining the fray, particularly since he hid his intentions and qualified after the public trials. With everything that’s happened over the last few days, winning the Pack Games would go a long way to convincing my father to make James his heir instead of me.
The only problem with this theory is that I have no idea how James could think he might win. He’s half the size of most of us, and while he might be clever and slippery as a snake, smarts only get you so far in hand to hand combat. Which means he’s either delusional or he’s up to something.
Well, he’s definitely not delusional.
By the third trial, a hunt intended to demonstrate the tracking skills of each competitor, it’s clear that James’s friendship with the other qualifiers is not innocent – or even genuine.
The skills presentation and first two events went smoothly enough. Of course they were public and being recorded live, so it would have been very difficult to try anything. However the hunt is completely unstructured. Rabbits designated for each qualifier are released into the forest the day prior, and whoever comes out with their prey the quickest is named winner.
Everything that happens in the forest itself is invisible to the spectators and media alike, which means just about anything goes. I was prepared for other wolves to try to sabotage my hunt once we entered, however I was not prepared for an alliance of more than a dozen competitors coming after me at once.
James was nowhere to be found, no doubt off chasing his own bunny and needing every extra second he could get. In the meantime I was surrounded by the strongest trackers, the ones who could afford to lose some time in the race. I could have run and probably gotten away, but running from a fight is not in my DNA.
They attacked as one, launching their bodies toward me with ferocious intent: biting, scratching and clawing, a few even shifting back into human form and attempting to beat me with logs or strategically hidden weapons. I’m sure they didn’t intend to kill me, instead they just wanted to take me down long enough to get me eliminated.
Unfortunately for James, he made one fatal error in his calculations. The best competitors in this event tend to be smaller and faster; wolves who can get in and out of tight spaces and fly through the wood at breakneck speed.
If he wanted to take me out he should have sent the big, slow brutes. A dozen behemoths would be difficult to defeat, even for me. A dozen flyweight speedsters slowed me down enough to drop me out of first place, but they also all ended up being eliminated themselves because none left the forest conscious.
Error or not, it’s clear I have a target on my back, and with two more days of competition, James has a multitude of opportunities to try and take me down. At least I don’t have to worry about him using Viviane to distract me. After what I did to her, she’s never coming near me again.
