"What do you mean?" asked Rudy from the counter, where he was pouring the coffee.
"Why aren't females allowed to compete in the Ordeal?" Esmé said. She sat at the kitchen table. There was a leaf in her hair, and Vivian was jealous of Esmé's night in the open.
"Gimme a break!" exclaimed Rudy. "Isn't it obvious? It's purely physical. Females are in a different weight category. Their muscles don't develop to the same degree. Why risk injury or death with no chance to win?"
Vivian took the cup of coffee meant for her mother from Rudy's hands and leaned back against the counter to drink it. Rudy rolled his eyes, but poured another cup.
"But some females are smarter than some males, craftier fighters," Esmé argued.
Rudy set Esmé's coffee in front of her and sat down himself. "Stop being awkward, Esmé. It's only a way of matching fairly and protecting our own. You females get your chance. It's only the top female who mates with the victor. She has to be the strongest and the smartest to ensure our survival."
"Yeah, great, some chance. It's a male's world, isn't it? A female may be queen bitch but she doesn't get to choose her king."
"You loved Ivan, didn't you, Sis?" Rudy asked. "You didn't beat the crap out of every new girl who came along with a challenge just for the status."
Vivian watched her mother's face closely.
Esmé glanced down, but not before Vivian saw her eyes soften. "Yeah," Esmé said.
"And he loved you. You had his tail between your teeth. Who's to say the queen bitch isn't the real pack leader?"
Yes, Vivian thought. Mom always got her way with Dad. But what if she'd wanted the power but not him? She couldn't have had it.
"So you had options," said Rudy. "You didn't have to fight for the leader. A female can choose any other mate as long as he'll have her."
"That's a mockery," Vivian said, startling them. "The match still has to be pack approved, and she isn't even allowed to whelp without the permission of the leader. What kind of choice is that?"
"Well," Rudy said, amusement in his eyes. "I didn't know we had another rebel in the house."
Esmé laughed. "She's a teenager, for Moon's sake. She's supposed to rebel."
Vivian bristled. How easily they dismissed her feelings as a stage she was going through. Her mouth closed into a thin line.
Esmé grinned and winked at Vivian. "Never mind, babe. I'm sure we won't dare deny you when you make your choice. You'd make our lives too miserable."
Yeah? Vivian thought. I might surprise you. She glared at her mother and drank in silence. Dammit, there's no reason I should let pack traditions rule me, she decided. The Law is supposed to keep us safe and strong and able to birth healthy children, yet the Law wants us to tear each other apart to find a leader. The Law's a bunch of hypocrisy.
In her room, relaxed after a shower, Vivian stood in the breeze of her fan, enjoying the coolness of air on her wet skin. She smiled lazily, imagining fingers trailing instead of water drops. There must be a way to cope with Aiden, she thought. There has to be.
But was Aiden angry with her after last night? She had ruined his surprise. The boys she had known in the past would have been pissed. But then, he wasn't like the boys she had known, was he? That was the point.
She walked down the hall to the phone.
Chapter 8
8
"Why does he have to drag parents into this?" Vivian grumbled as she ransacked her closet.
Aiden's family were having their first cookout of the season to celebrate the end of school, and Aiden had invited her along.
"It'll just be casual," he'd told her.
Casual! What was so casual about being inspected by parents?
The weather was too hot for jeans, so she pulled out a scarlet tank dress. Parents liked girls in dresses, didn't they? She wanted them to like her, for his sake. She wiggled into the sheath of cotton and swept her thick hair back with combs. But that didn't mean she couldn't dress for him, too.
Rudy shook his head when he saw her come downstairs. "God help the poor bastard, whoever he is."