ANSEL POV Ansel and Karin enter the manor and find Henry and Maggie waiting for them. “Where’s the fire?” Ansel asked sarcastically, looking around. Seeing Karin’s disheveled clothes, Henry rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry boss. If it wasn’t so important, I would have waited until you were no longer occupied.” “Mhm,” Ansel replied, enjoying the red forming on Karin’s cheeks. “Don’t worry about it. We’re here now. What’s so urgent?” Henry lowered his voice. “I was on my way to the manor and happened to have overheard something that I’m sure I wasn’t supposed to.” “From whom?” &
KARIN POV “It’s all frivolous in my opinion. There are so many other things I could do with my time…” I say, mocking Ansel. “Like he’s that damn busy. I have stuff going on too. Tomorrow I have two books on the history of fire that I promised myself I would finish.” Maggie smirked as we worked together to fold Ansel’s clothes for his travels. “Of course, shame on him for not seeing the dangers of unfinished books over battling bearmen.” “You know sarcasm is said to be the lowest form of wit,” I say, turning up my nose.She nods. “I’ll make sure to remember that the next time we converse. Instead, how about we discuss the pyromania that swept the land in the 1950s?”“What really?! I haven’t gotten to that pa
ANSEL POVTwo Weeks Later “I can’t believe you managed to not only get rid of our bearmen problem but also protect our workers as they rebuilt the barrier to keep the witches out,” King Alfred said as he shook Ansel’s hand.Ansel nodded. “I’m glad that we could be of service. My only gripe is that we could not get things done quicker for you.”King Alfred scoffed. “Please, it was the fault of my own men. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know that they were in your way. I saw how effortlessly your men pull those bearmen apart the moment I made my men retreat. I don’t know what type of training you do in Blue Moon, but perhaps we should follow suit.” He nudged his head at Henry. “I’ve been trying to figure out how to ask for the past two weeks. Are you sure that is one man?” Ansel stifled his laugh. “Yes, I’m positive Henry is one person, though believe me, you’re not the first to ask.”“I’m not surprised.” He peered at Henry, who was sharpening his sword. “I don’t think he needs
KARIN POV“What’s taking them so long?” I ask rhetorically as I pace around my room. I stop as fear courses through me. “Oh my goodness, what if they were in an accident? What if their cars were hit by a rogue airplane and while they were trying to escape the rubble, they started to spontaneously combust and—”“Lady Karin, please!” Maggie shouted, silencing me. She grabbed my shoulders to keep me from starting my pace again. “They’re fine. I spoke to Henry last night. Everything is wrapped up and he said they would make their return soon. Apparently, the delay had to do with Moon Shadow’s gammas incompetence. After the first week, Sir Ansel asked the king if they could finish things on their own.”I roll my eyes. “He has always been a showoff,” I say, though, as usual, Ansel had left me in awe. No matter where he went, he always seemed to dominate the room as if it was made for him. A blush finds my cheeks.He dominates everything he does.“Did Henry say anything else?” I ask, forcing
The Next Day Maggie’s eyes bore into me as I swirled my oatmeal for the hundredth time. “Can you please stop staring at me? I told you I’ll eat.” Picking up a glob of the sugary meal, I look at the mass that seems to bubble on the utensil. My stomach turns, and I toss the spoon back into the bowl and dart to the bathroom. I try to vomit, but nothing comes out and eventually I plop onto the floor. “That was so dramatic,” I muttered. I wick sweat from my face as my breathing returns to normal.“Lady Karin, may I come in?” Maggie asked. She knocked on the door a few more times. “Lady Karin?”“Come in, Maggie.”She opens the bathroom door and frowns at me. “Oh dear, how long has this been going on?”“The past few days. I know I should have said something, but I didn’t want you to worry.”“Is this why you haven’t tried reaching out to Sir Ansel?”I grimace. “You’ve always been able to read me. With everything he has going on, the last thing he needs to worry about it that—”“You may be pr
ANSEL POV Ansel entered the manor and dropped his bags on the ground. “I know I say it all the time, but there is nothing like being in your own bed.” He peered around at the empty corridor. Where is everyone? As if on cue, the butler and Maggie appeared. They bowed. “Apologies for not greeting you at the door, sir,” the butler said. “We were making sure that your room was heated, and everything completed per your request when you return from travel. “Not a problem. Have the cooks gone to bed?” “Yes, but I can wake them.” “No. I’ll wait until morning. Honestly, I’m so exhausted that I would probably fall headfirst into my soup.” He looked past them and furrowed his brow. “Where is Karin? Did you not tell her I would arrive within the hour?” Maggie nodded. “Yes, but she’s pretty tired. She’s in bed.” Her voice was shaky, and Ansel tilted his head. “What’s going on? Is she unwell?” She sighed. “Lady Karin hasn’t come out
KARIN POV One week later “And now we join Dan live at the town square.” “Thanks Kate. Here at the town square, the happy bustle of Blue Moon members is a stark contrast from what we’ve seen within the past few years. And why? Well, as one patron said, we can’t wait to vote. Yes, apparently voting fever has struck Blue Moon, and one person seems on everyone’s mind: The Second Prince, Sir Ansel. Many pack members eagerly reveal who they’re voting for. If these preliminary numbers have any sign of how the vote will turn out, then The Great Prince, Sir Edwin, may find himself in a bit of trouble. Back to you, Kate.” “Thanks Dan. Ross, it appears maybe you were right. This could be a landslide election.” I grin at the words of the news anchors on the television. Just like everyone thought, Ansel had the title of Alpha in the bag. His favor in Blue Moon extended throughout the land, all but making the election nothing but a formality. I eat a spoonful o
ANSEL POV “So, how are things with Lady Karin?” Aron asked as he flicks a piece of lint from his jacket. “I know she must be happy that you’ve returned, though a little birdie told me that you haven’t asked her to the Blue Moon ball.” “You’ve been checking up on me?” “Absolutely. You two have more drama than a Telenovela.” He turned his face dramatically as if he was slapped. Holding his cheek, he rubbed it. “Que?!” he said with a gasp. Ansel shook his head. “You’re such an odd duck.” “Perhaps, but I happily quack amongst those who understand and adore me.” He adjusted himself in his seat. “Seriously, you need to ask her.” “Why? She already knows she will accompany me.” “How?” Ansel scrunched his face. “What do you mean, how? She’s my mate. We’re together. Why wouldn’t she know that?” “Oh, sweet mother goose,” Aron said, rubbing his forehead. “I’m going to change the topic because I can’t deal with this on a Friday. Overal
#Ansel’s Epilogue: A New Tomorrow Ansel and Karin waited together on the wings of the stage, listening to the cheers and booming voice over the microphone. Edwin had been removed from the election ballot. The next in-line for the throne, a cousin, replaced him. Ansel won in a landslide. Ansel looked at Karin. She was leaning against her crutches. Her raven hair fell down over her shoulders. Her brown eyes were warm and flecked with gold. “Did I ever tell you,” he said, “How proud I am of you?” A blush came over her cheeks. She raised her eyebrow. “What for?” “You llean into your confidence more and more everyday,” he said. “I always knew you were feisty as shit, but until the day of the attack, when I really saw you in action, I didn’t fully recognize just how courageous and strong you are.” Karin looked down at her feet, hiding a smile. “I was always scared of Ada’s power,” she said. She looked back up at Ansel. “I held her back constantly, but I think I’ve finally learned to
“Do not leave,” Ansel whispers. “Got it?” His voice is a command. I shake my head. Ansel opens his mouth to argue when we hear a cry. The hair stands up on the back of my neck and my stomach lurches. It’s Charles. Without another second, he is out of the room. Ada’s pacing, urging me to go. She pushes against me with such a force, I can’t ignore it. Quietly as I can, I slip out the door and begin to slink down the stairs. As I do, I pick up on the scents of multiple Weres. The alarm bells are ringing, but Ada keeps edging me closer. I hear Ansel’s voice as I continue creeping down the stairway. “Go on,” he shouts. “Give me the ‘bad guy’ exposition, Edwin.” As I tiptoe around the corner, I see Charles, lying still on the ground. Where I would have panicked, Ada is an intense calm. Ansel’s eyes dart over, likely picking up my scent. We make eye contact before he whips his eyes back, so as not to give me away. Then, he mindlinks with me. “Go upstairs.” I don’t argue back. Ho
Ansel Ansel’s eyes flew open and chaos ensued. Filled with adrenaline, he sprang up in the bed, grabbing a masked stranger by the neck. “Lorazepam!” Ansel could not place where he was or what was happening. The lights were blinding and painful. Blue gloves, blue masks, and eyes of strangers encroached him, swirled over him and around him. He felt overwhelmed and attacked. Hands pried Ansel’s hand from the neck. A dozen arms held Ansel back from flinging himself off the bed or doing further damage. Ansel felt something cold in his arm and it spread through his body. A voice chuckled. “I think the atro-corticoid worked a little too well.” Ansel’s fight instinct abated. His body relaxed. The glaring light dissipated and his eyes adjusted. He registered for the first time where he was. A hospital room, with whirs and beeps, white tile floor, the sound of footsteps outside in the hall, and the smell of sickness, chemical cleaners, and grief in the air. Ansel was surrounded by a conce
KarinThe dream flickers away, like a candle blown out. For a moment, I’m filled with terror, afraid that I’ve lost Ansel, but I feel his presence even if I can’t see or hear him. Still, the control and the energy I’m trying to hold on to is quickly fading. It’s twilight. I’m standing outside the sanitorium. I fight it, but I feel myself slipping into a nightmare redux.“My son tells me good things about you.” Sir David looks nothing like Ansel. His hair is gray, his body is imposingly muscular, and his face is weathered and scarred from fights, but it’s the menacing look in his eyes and the hardened expression on his face that’s the real difference.For once, Ada and are in complete agreement on something - we don’t like him. Sir David’s eyeing me. I pull my hair around, making sure to hide Ansel’s bite mark on my neck. I nod my head. “He’s very serious about you,” he says. “Did you know?”I hesitate. A swallow chirps nearby. There’s no one in sight and he scares me. Ada jumps i
Karin“Tick tick tick…” The jet of a sprinkler shoots water across the green lawn, painting a rainbow in the shimmer of water droplets against the morning sun. Henry wakes up to the sound of his wife crying against the closed bathroom door. “Mags?” Silence. Apathy. Untouched plates of food.Henry sits on the porch, wearing a faded Hawaiian shirt with a surfboard print. Maggie’s in a chair across from him, almost unrecognizable with greasy, unwashed hair and wrinkled clothes. He’s made her iced tea. “With a dash of mint,” he says, his tone gentle. Maggie stares ahead. There’s a dead look to her eyes.Leaves crunching. Greased palm. Black car. Maggie’s hollow eyes torment him. He misses when her eyes were alive, when they sparkled with joy, and even when they sizzled in anger at whatever dumb things he did. It’s her eyes that flicker in his mind when he’s approached. ‘I can be a rat,’ he thinks. He says “yes,” without asking the obvious: “Why me?” Later, he will ask himself
The sea is outside. We’re in the bedroom of a small cottage. The door’s open and I can see his mom’s old piano is tucked into the corner of the living room. My ballet shoes sit near the bench.He looks beautiful in the dim light.Everything about Ansel is strong - from the tenor of his voice, his height and broad shoulders, to the muscular lines of his body and the chiseled features of his face.It’s all there - the power of him, the hard lines I resented because he had changed, but his defenses are stripped away, revealing the totality of him and the gentle warmth inside.We’re shoulder-to-shoulder. He tilts his head over to me and smiles, and I like the way his eyes crinkle when he does. I let my head fall against his shoulder. He hums in my ear and loops his index finger around mine.“Is that a new song?”“Just a bit of a melody that popped in,” he says, shr
I stay frozen in my spot. The dream version of Ansel sweeps back a flyaway strand of hair from Zara’s face. My stomach knots itself into a pretzel when she leans in to kiss him. His arms are around her. Her hand is in his hair.My Ansel is as awkward as I’ve ever seen him. He’s looking down, and seems to be holding his breath.Dream Ansel puts on the brakes, pulling back.“What’s wrong,” Zara asks. “Did I… do something?”“No.” He looks frustrated and runs his hands through his hair. “Not at all.” He clears his throat. “I think we need to stay focused,” he says, standing, “On the task at hand.”“That was the extent of it, mostly,” Ansel says next to me, wearing a guilty expression. “This was as close as it got to a rebound.”“I don’t have room to talk,” I say, thinking ashamedly about kissing Ethan. “And, we were broken up.”I blush. “We are broken
“Really?” My heart kicks up a notch. “Why… Why do you want to take me on a date?”“Because you wanted me to,” he says. “Remember?”There’s a lump in my throat as we walk down the sidewalk together.We stop at a cafe. He holds the door for me. I pause just inside, marveling, wide-eyed at the very 1970’s Americana-style diner.I’m in a fringed, suede miniskirt and blouse. Ansel seems to appreciate the skirt. He raises his eyebrows and smiles.He’s wearing an orange, short-sleeve shirt and mustard-colored pants with flared legs.“Think I can pull this off?” He looks down at his clothes.I think he could pull off a flour-sack, but I’m not going to tell him that.We sit down at a table. The booth is vinyl green and the table is
“Final boarding call for Pioneer-Blue, flight 105.”Shit.The gate check-in counter is in sight. I dash to it like I’m in an Olympic relay, ticket in hand. With the other hand, I clutch the duffel bag slung over my shoulder to keep it from clobbering me as I run.I weave my way around other passengers, milling about during their layovers or filing to their own gates, and I race past emergency workers trying to revive Ethan. He’s lying on the floor of the airport, muddied and limp.Ahead, and just to my left, a little boy is watching. He looks small and scared. There are grass stains on his jeans. A bike is laying on the ground next to him.“Last call for flight 105.”“I’m here,” I say, shoving the ticket in front of the worker.She radios to the flight crew and sends me down the jetway