Claire reached up and fastened the delicate chain around her neck before she turned to greet Judith and Katherine. Judith was eyeing her as though she were a piece of fruit that wasn't quite ripe, but Katherine was smiling at her in an encouraging way. Like she was a puppy at a dog show. Claire swallowed hard and made herself greet them confidently. Still, the reminder that not everyone believed in her the way Beatrice did sent a shiver of doubt through her, like a crack in a pane of glass.
Before she was forced to start making small talk, Claire heard something crashing through the underbrush. The flicker of a flashlight beam splintered the darkness of the woods, and the breeze brought Matthew's scent into the clearing. The other wolves stiffened, and Claire felt herself tense along with them. She'd never understood their hesitation before—had never gotten why a gardien would cause that sort of reaction.
But she could see it on their faces. It didn't matter that he'd been invited. It didn't matter that he knew their secret, that he kept it willingly.
He was human. And anything human in the woods was dangerous to them.
Matthew finally broke through the edge of the trees, his eyes going straight to Marie. "I'm not late, am I?" he asked. Worry shimmered across his face.
Marie stepped forward, wrapping an arm around him and pulling him into the middle of the clearing.
"Not at all. We were just getting ready to begin."
Marie steered him over to the edge of the circle and sat him next to Victoria and Beatrice. Judith and Katherine arranged themselves across from the trio, putting as much space between Matthew and themselves as they could. Claire ended up between Matthew and Judith. Her mother stood across from her, staring over the pile of wood. Matthew shrank into himself, barely even glancing at the other wolves. It was so obvious that he didn't want to be there. There might as well have been a neon sign buzzing over his head saying DESPERATE TO LEAVE.
Claire bit down on the inside of her cheek and forced herself not to stare at him. Marie raised her arms over her head, and the group fell silent. She lowered her arms and stood in the darkness. With her shoulders square and her chin high, she began to speak.
"Welcome, all of you. Tonight we gather to witness the abilities of our newly transformed wolf. We will support her, but we will not assist her." She looked deeply, unflinchingly into Claire's eyes—a show of her status. Claire tore her gaze away, focusing instead on the waiting pyre.
She took a step back and motioned Claire closer to the pile of branches. "The first step in our ceremonies is the lighting of the fire. It connects us—spiritually and viscerally—to our ancestresses, and through them to the Goddess herself. The fire that comes from us, through our will, shows all who watch that we are part of the unbroken chain of werewolves that travels back to a time before memory. Their power gives us power—and the fire is the symbol of that strength."
Even in the darkness, Marie's eyes were luminous as she turned to Claire—like the spark of fire inside her shone so brightly that it was visible.
"Claire, you may begin."
Claire opened her mouth to say thanks, but the words caught in her throat.
She knelt, the ground cold and unforgiving beneath her knees. The stack of firewood was much larger than anything she'd lit before. It loomed in front of her, as if the ghosts of a thousand werewolves were staring down at her from the top.
Maybe I should have practiced on bigger branches.
Trying to stay calm, Claire picked two small twigs near the bottom of the pile, whose tips just touched. She took a deep breath, which was a huge mistake.
The smells in the clearing intensified in a blink-short moment. Support and excitement and doubt and nerves swirled together, choking Claire.
She could smell Matthew sitting across the clearing. His own scent, the maleness of it, strange in the protected clearing. It tugged at her attention, making it hard to concentrate.
"Claire?" Her mother prompted.
"Sorry." Claire turned her attention back to the twigs, focusing hard on the point where they came together. Seeing the molecules getting hot. She tried to give herself over and feel the same pulling sensation she'd had the night she practiced with Victoria.
Nothing happened.
She closed her eyes, trying to block out everything except the twigs. Matthew shifted, and the sound of his jeans scraping against the ground, the catch in his breath, drowned out Claire's own thoughts. She turned away from him and tried again.
She shook her head, her heart pounding harder with each second that passed.
She tried again, willing the flames to come. Behind her,she heard Judith clear her throat impatiently. After several painful minutes, Claire looked up at her mother's shocked face.
"Can I transform? I think . . . maybe I can do it in my wolf form."
Marie shook her head slowly. Her eyes were wide. Horrified. "You must be able to do it in your human form. That is how the ceremonies begin. You—you cannot do this?" she whispered.
Claire slumped miserably in front of the branches.
"I've made smoke," she said. "I'm just . . . I'm nervous. Sorry."
"You'll get it," Katherine said in a too-chipper voice.