Shaking with the uncertainty of it all, Claire stumbled up to her room and lay down on her bed, checking her phone one more time, not quite able to believe that Matthew still hadn't called her back. She pulled the pillow tight over her head and lay in the smothering darkness, trying not to think. Sometime later, Marie knocked on Claire's door.
"Yeah?" Claire called, her head still stuffed under the pillow.
"It is arranged. We will meet tonight, early. I have told everyone that we will begin at ten o'clock." Marie's voice was muffled by the down of the pillow, but Claire couldn't bring herself to look at her mother.
"Thank you," she said.
There was a wooden thump—something hitting the top of her vanity table. "I brought you something to eat. Do you— can I do anything for you?"
"No." Claire's voice was miserable. She was miserable. Every word her mother spoke made it harder to keep from thinking. When she heard the door click shut, she reached for her headphones, jamming them into her ears and turning the music up until it seared through her head, obliterating everything else. Ten o' clock. It was already late afternoon. She just had to wait a few hours.
The few hours passed with a fossilizing slowness. She lay there, wondering what they would say. If the pack would kick her out and what, exactly, they would do with Amy. She still seemed to want to be friends with Claire. Maybe there was some other solution they could come up with. Maybe it wouldn't be an automatic death sentence.
Eventually, the dark slipped down her windowpane and covered the lawn and forest, broken only by the lights from the house and the pinpricks of the stars in the velvet black sky. After the sun had completely disappeared, taking with it the faint light that had crept underneath her pillow, Claire lay in the gloom until she couldn't stand it anymore. She sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed, watching as the moon rose over the tops of the trees. It was a fat crescent moon, rising pointsfirst into the blackness, like a cup. Or something with horns.
She watched as it traced its path across the sky. She just wanted to get to the gathering. Everything felt out of control—her fight with Matthew, the bizarre intensity of the naming, and now Amy. The only thing she was certain about was that telling the pack—the whole pack—was the right thing to do. It was the only way she could get her hands around the situation.
Behind her, Marie opened the door.
Without knocking.
"It's time to go, chérie. Are you ready?"
"Yes. Let's go." Claire stood up and turned to face her mother. Marie looked her over, almost clinically, her face growing more alarmed as she took in Claire's posture and expression. "Claire, just tell me what happened. I am your Alpha. I can command you, if necessary."
"Please," Claire whispered. "Please don't do that. I have to do it this way. You know I do. When we get there, I promise I'll tell everyone what happened. Just as soon as we get there."
"Then let's go. And quickly."
The fact that her mother had not commanded her to reveal what she knew gave Claire the strength to walk out of the room. If her mother was willing to wait—to respect Claire's desire to face the pack—then she really must be doing the right thing.
Outside, the November air cleared her head. Stripped of the cocoon of numbness that Claire had spun around herself, her panic returned, threatening to overtake her. She and her mother hurried toward the woods. The two of them scurried beneath the protective arms of the trees, following the invisible but well-remembered path to the clearing. Claire kept her eyes on the leaf-strewn ground, watching the shifting patterns of the splintered moonlight on the forest floor.
In the distance, the flicker of a fire caught Claire's eye. Someone had gotten there before them. She began to run, the secret burning her mouth from the inside out. In the clearing, Beatrice sat close to the fire, her face a mask of worry.
"Victoria's not with her," Claire whispered. She'd been hoping to see at least one supportive face around the fire.
"No," her mother said. "She won't be. The baby is still too little to be away from Victoria. She will have a few months before she is required to attend to her pack responsibilities." She grimaced. "No matter how dire they may be."
Guilt sluiced through Claire in an icy rush.
She slunk into the clearing ahead of her mother, and Beatrice immediately hurried over to her, wrapping her arms around Claire.
"Oh, Young One. What happened?"
"No use asking," said Marie. "She won't tell me—not until the pack is gathered."
Judith stepped out of the trees, her eyebrows raised in surprise. "Which is as it should be. If something happens that affects the whole pack, then we should deal with it as a pack."
She'd clearly heard the last part of the conversation, but though she was looking at Claire with irritation, she didn't have her usual, dismissive stare.
Katherine stepped into the clearing behind Judith. "Sorry. I was trying to DVR a show and I couldn't get it set up. So. We're all here?"