In midair, Vivian wondered who had control of her body. She hit Astrid hard, but the red bitch kept her grip and brought Esmé down too. Vivian shook with a thunder from within. Were those snarls hers? All she could see was the muzzle gripping her mother's neck and Astrid's yellow eyes. Vivian went for the face.
Astrid's muzzle was streaked with blood. And still she held on. Vivian pushed between Astrid and Esmé to pry them apart. And still Astrid held on. Vivian clamped her jaws over Astrid's snout and kicked with her legs. And still Astrid held on, her yellow eyes mocking. Beneath them Esmé whimpered, then choked and gasped.
Her windpipe, Vivian thought. It's closing up.
Vivian wailed. She attacked the evil soul that threatened her mother - the evil that laughed with spite through yellow eyes. It took seven jabs to get the perfect angle: Six failed snaps glanced off protecting bone, then a canine tooth sank into a yielding surface, which held for a second, then popped like a yellow grape.
Astrid let go.
She rolled away, screaming as if to wake the dead.
Vivian didn't let up. She couldn't trust Astrid. What if the bitch was faking? She bulldozed hard into the whining female, and sure enough Astrid came up all teeth and claws. Astrid's fury did her no good. She wasn't as strong. She wasn't as fast. Vivian had never felt this much power before. It sang through her. She could tear the hide from the wolf in the moon, but she'd settle for Astrid's instead. She could bounce her, she could roll her, she could eat her inch by inch, and the growing terror in Astrid's remaining eye urged her on. She sliced a wound in Astrid's flank, herded her left and right, then circled her, making her dance a tight dizzy pirouette.
The red bitch gasped for breath, and the gooey mess on her face oozed black in the moonlight. She was weak, she had lost, Vivian wanted to kill her for that alone.
Around her, one by one, the pack took up a howl. It grew louder, and louder, till it crescendoed to the stars. Vivian shook her head. She wished they'd stop. Why did they have to make that racket now? She crouched to leap.
Then a body was in the way, then another, and another. She was within a circle of running female wolves. She twisted this way, that way, befuddled. They circled her as if they played a children's game - Aunt Persia, Jenny, Renata, Magda, Minerva, Odessa, Sybil, Flavia, more and more and more. She wanted to leap their heads and get to Astrid, but now she couldn't remember which way to go.
Then they were still.
Beyond them Vivian could see the males, standing as silently. All eyes were on her. What do they want from me? she thought, and dread slowly replaced the rage. She longed to flee, but was trapped in the thick, translucent night like a fly in amber.
I have done something terrible, she decided. I have ruined the Ordeal. Her heart constricted with fear. How did they punish that? But she raised her head and defied them with her eyes. I defended my own when you would not, she thought. Yet the blood on her tongue tasted bitter. She was as bad as them. It was in her too - the thirst for blood, the need to kill. And where was Esmé, anyway? Dead on the sodden turf, no doubt. Perhaps I deserve whatever they mete out as justice. She stamped her front paws. Do your worst, she thought.
But bravado didn't stop her from cringing when Aunt Persia stepped into the circle. The next thing that happened was baffling. Aunt Persia crouched on the ground, her ears laid flat. She rolled on her back and presented her belly. What is she doing? Vivian thought in shock. Then one by one the other females followed Persia's example, presenting their bellies, exposing their throats, paying tribute.
Oh, no. Oh, no. Vivian looked around in frantic confusion. Was this some nightmare? It's not me, she wanted to scream. I am no queen.
What had happened to ceremony? She'd thought the bitches' dance would start with some formal rite, not a sneak attack. She hadn't planned to be a part of it. But a female past her sixteenth birthday counted as grown. She crouched in horror and buried her nose between her paws.
This couldn't be right. No others had fought. What about the other females? Quickly she cataloged them - too old, too young, already mated, too fragile. She had never stopped to think before, she had been so determined to avoid the contest, but when no female strangers had arrived there had been only three possible contenders.
A soft tongue lapped at her nose, and with it drifted the sweet familiar breath that made her think of warm food and cozy beds. A muzzle nudged hers. She opened her eyes. Esmé. Safe. Dismay forgotten for a moment, she sprang to her feet and pranced a few excited steps.
But Esmé stepped aside, the circle parted, and toward Vivian, through the expectant pack, paced Gabriel, his sleek muscles rippling, his dark fur tipped by stars.
Vivian froze. Her happiness at her mother's safety drained away. She had accidentally named herself Gabriel's mate.
He stood before her, his jaws parted in a toothy grin.
She stared up into his ice blue eyes while he waited for her to admit his dominance.
A soft growl rose in her throat. Never, she thought. You will not make me offer you my belly. I do not choose you knowingly.
He grinned even wider at her defiance and licked his lips.
He would relish the challenge, would he? Well, to crown a queen you must catch her first.
She sprang past him down the aisle he'd already opened, along the tunnel of fur and out to the woods. She ran like the Wolf of the North made of stars in heaven, who with one long stride can leap over the top of Earth. The grasses she crushed made the night air pungent with freedom. But behind her she heard the thunder of Gabriel's pursuit.
Chapter 17
17
Vivian climbed naked through her bedroom window and tumbled onto her bed. She had changed into her human form in the backyard bushes before she scaled the drainpipe to the porch roof. Only a rosy glow tinged the western sky. She hoped the neighbors weren't early risers.
It seemed an eternity since she'd run from the Ordeal. She must have flown like the wind to lose Gabriel, but she hadn't stopped to catch her breath until the sounds of his pursuit were long silent. She'd hidden in a shallow cave near a rocky crest until she was sure Gabriel hadn't tracked her; then she'd taken off for home. She'd never run that far before. The journey had taken all night.