37 #2
“I cannot wait to be united with you,” Evie says, completely deadpan.
Another lie.
Unfortunately, these roundabout confessions don’t make me feel better.
Unless Sin found conclusive evidence tonight, these two will be engaged in two weeks’ time.
Even if they don’t want to be—even if they kick and scream the whole time—they will be together for the rest of their lives.
And I will either watch it unfold or be cast aside as a Lone Wolf and left to die.
I place a hand on my stomach, willing the insurgence of nausea and bile to calm.
It doesn’t. Sin’s blond hair dangles over his stunning red eyes.
His sharp jaw tenses with another fabricated smile.
He’s beautiful. I’ve felt his hands on my body, his tongue, his lips.
And, god, he’s beautiful , but he isn’t mine.
I retreat to the bar, leaving the two of them to bicker, and numbly sit down on a stool.
Fuck my future, Vanessa.
But he can’t do that without cause. Sin glances at me, and he frowns.
By now, Evelyn has spun away from him and commandeered a table across from my spot at the bar.
But he stands there, torn between the two of us.
Torn between what’s expected and what’s right.
And Evie—she’s not happy about any of this either.
I know she wouldn’t choose Sin if she could help it.
She is a bully. She hurt me. She damn well tortured me and threatened me within an inch of my life.
But she is also just a girl trapped in a bad situation.
She is also just a girl.
I bite my lip, thinking. Mulling over what could be the dumbest decision of my life. But my legs move of their own volition, and I stand and walk to the chair beside her. When I sit down, she blinks at me, her pink mouth twisting into an automatic sneer.
“Evie,” I say, trying desperately to keep my tone even. “Can I ask you a question?”
She rests her chin on a manicured hand. Her nails sparkle in varying shades of scarlet and maroon. “No.”
I stifle a scream of frustration with a perfectly placating smile and ask anyway. The one question I’ve wanted to know for ages. The one that has haunted me for months. The one that she never would’ve answered in the midst of court, surrounded by their laws and principles and heavy expectations.
“Evie.” I brace myself for the worst. For the truth. “Did you… did you kill my friend?”
Sin moves beside us then, pulling out a chair and sitting on it backward, but she doesn’t look at him. Her gaze burns into mine. Through mine. Seconds feel like hours now, and my hands tremble the longer they stretch out before us. My foot jostles against the floor.
Evie’s head tilts. She opens her mouth.
However, four harsh, abrasive footsteps thunder from that curtain, and cut through our conversation instantly.
They fell it like a tree. She turns around and spots her brother, and I turn around and spot Calix, and the truth dies in her throat.
Now I try not to cry. I was so close. So close to forcing this issue into our past and unraveling the real mystery.
The real danger. It can’t be Evie. She can’t have killed Celeste because of a stupid fight when there is a web of conspiracy entangled around us.
Celeste’s death can’t have been that pointless.
Calix and Eric return from the bathroom and sit at the table beside us, their bodies too tall to fit neatly in the wooden chairs. Eric huffs, folding inward and trying desperately not to touch a single thing with his bare hands or arms.
“We found your cousin loitering on the beach,” Eric says to Calix. “Any idea why? He claims he was out for an evening jog, but I don’t buy it.”
“I think you are mixing up a few facts,” Sin argues with a lazy air. “You did not find me—you pounced on me.”
“I healed you,” Evie says, sounding more bored than ever. “And you didn’t even say thank you.”
“You daggered me with silver . I’m not ever going to say thank you.”
“An honest mistake. We thought you were a murderer,” Eric says, stretching out and almost breaking the chair under the weight of his muscles. “Since you appeared to be haunting the very spot where Instructor Alvarez died.”
“I was running on the beach,” Sin says.
“Sure you were.”
“Sin enjoys his time away from the castle,” Calix says defensively. “He goes for runs often.”
“Right,” Eric huffs. “Our dearest Wolf Prince may as well be a triathlete.”
“Don’t be absurd,” Sin says. “Triathletes bike and swim. I’m merely a wolf who enjoys a good race.”
“Say wolf louder,” Evie snaps. “I worry the bartender didn’t hear you.”
Sin laughs. “You’re not afraid of a human , are you?”
“I’m afraid of gutting you in front of one.”
“Evelyn, my dear, you have the patience of an untrained dog.”
“And you have the brain of one,” she retorts.
I watch them spar, the four of them with their years of history, and it reminds me of bickering in the cafeteria with Celeste.
Of long car rides and sweaty beach days and arguments about maps and sunscreen.
God, I miss her. I miss having family. I slouch in my seat.
Calix remains mostly quiet as well, but even he can’t help interjecting after long.
“I’m not accusing you of being a serial killer,” Evie says, “I’m just asking why you happened to be here, at the beach, on the night of a full moon?”
“Stop interrogating him,” Calix growls.
“No, don’t stop,” Sin says, his muscles taut when he crosses his arms. “Go ahead. Dig your grave deeper.”
Evie jabs a red nail at him. “I don’t trust you, Wolf Prince.”
“Nor do I trust you, Wolf Princess.”
She scoffs, throwing her chair backward and leaping to her feet.
“And I don’t like your blood-traitor cousin either.
” She doesn’t mention me, specifically, as she and Eric make their way toward the door—which feels like a minor victory—but she does glare at me.
Evie glances around the bar, at the humans and spilled liquor and the hideous saloon doors and shakes her head.
“I hate your entire fucking court,” she admits.
And then she and Eric exit.
“Fucking delightful, aren’t they?” Sin mutters to the table.
Calix glowers, however. “You better have a really good explanation as to why you were at the beach, Sin.”
“Don’t tell me you think I’m a serial killer too.”
“I think you’re hiding something.” Calix licks his lips, and his searing yellow gaze falls on me next. “I know you’re both hiding something.”
But we can’t confirm or deny the accusation.
Just then—outside in the sprinkling rain—a howl pierces the night.
The three of us freeze. Calix leaps out of his chair, knocking over the rickety thing, and the bartender yells at us for property damage.
We don’t respond. Calix storms outside, and Sin grabs my hand, dragging me after them before I can process what’s happening.
“Why—”
“Wolf,” Sin says. “Full moon. Beach. ”
Oh.
Oh no.
A second howl splits the sky, and it burrows into my ear. My hackles rise. My claws break free. I’m—I’m responding to the sound.
“It’s an Alpha,” Sin says, readying his body in a fighting stance.
Calix nods once. His fangs have descended, and his eyes flash gold. “Where?”
Evie and Eric jog toward us from across the street, their hair wet and plastered to their faces. I almost think it’s suspicious, seeing their red eyes flaring from the darkness, but they reach us with preternatural haste, their breaths coming harsh and fast.
“Did you hear—” Eric starts.
“Howls,” Evie finishes.
Calix and Sin nod, and Calix steps forward to meet them in the parking lot. “Did you follow the first?”
“To the beach,” Eric says, slicking his hair back with a pale hand. “We were returning to alert you when we heard the second.”
Calix curses, and he turns to look at Sin, who nods again. “It has to be Instructor Alvarez’s murderer—or someone aligned with them.”
I recall Calix’s words in a rush.
In our world, we don’t have the luxury of coincidence.
I flinch. Celeste’s murderer, the instructor’s, the assailant of those prisoners, they’re here . Right now. Rain drips onto my cheeks in a cold flurry, starting soft, then growing fat and violent with the wind. I blink away the water, repress the fear that’s whirling through my chest like smoke.
“Wh-what do we do?” I ask, my claws reflecting the light from a lamp above us.
Evie and Eric glance at me, and for the first time ever, there is no hatred in their gazes. Eric straightens, every bit the prince he is, and Evie curls her claws toward her chest. Royalty. The future of werewolves. Something in my bones wants to bow at the sight.
“We follow it,” Calix says, and when Sin moves to argue, Calix shakes his head, cutting him off. “We must.”
“Follow the scent,” Eric agrees. “I doubt they’ll howl again. Whoever they were calling…”
“The victim has already been lured,” Evie says.
Victim.
Another victim. Oh god. I suck in a breath, and Calix tracks the ragged sound. His muscles shudder with an impending shift, but he takes the moment to say, “You have to stay here, Vanessa.” Then, “You too, Evelyn.”
“What?” Evie spits, her own body rippling now. “No fucking way.”
“You are my future mate—the future queen ,” Sin says. “If I can’t handle this myself, then you’re as good as dead.”
“So you want me to babysit her ?”
And there’s that hatred again, but I’m not going to argue against it. “I can help—”
“No,” Calix interjects. “You can’t. We don’t know what’s awaiting us. You’re just not trained enough. You won’t survive.” Calix points to the streetlamp above us.
Sin agrees, though his expression is somber. Almost forlorn. “Wait here, and don’t leave the light.”
Evie looks as if she could shatter the lamppost with a single claw, but she nods anyway. “Fine,” she bites out.
And the three boys take off for the darkness and seclusion of the beach. I can’t see them shift. I can only hear it—the cracking of bones, the implosion of fur. They chase after the rogue werewolf, darting into a blackened mangrove forest, and leave Evie and me alone.
She begins pacing back and forth, never leaving the safety of the light, her red eyes deepening into a molten maroon. “Speak one word,” she says to me, “and I will rip out your throat.”
She is undeniably telling the truth.