When we wake up, it’s me, instead of Ada, pressed tightly to Ansel, but I feel Ada more than ever. Just as with Jeff, she doesn’t have to speak. It’s a knowingness, a heightened sense of the two of us that is linked in a new way.Ansel begins to rouse around noon, I scurry over from the table near the window where I’ve been trying to brainstorm plans for a dance class.“Hi,” I say, leaning close. His breathing is still shallow and his face is pale.He tries to sit up.“Here, let me help you,” I say.“I’m fine,” he says with a growl.I ignore his foul mood and call for someone to bring him lunch. They bring in a tray of food, but he pushes it away.“I can’t eat this,” he says.“At least drink something,” I say, handing him a glass of juice.Thankfully, Ansel drinks it. I try to help him get up to make his way into the bathroom, but he won’t let me.“I don’t need any help,” Karin. His eyes are clouded with anger.He wobbles for a moment, but then he’s able to take some weakened steps.A
“Karin.”I spin around to see Ansel, still pale and sickly-looking, treading slowly after me. It’s late morning and he was well enough to come down to breakfast - and ignore me through it - but I’m shocked to see him walking around outside in his condition.“Suddenly, you can speak?” I cross my arms as he approaches me.He narrows his eyes at me. “I don’t know why I’m bothering, frankly.”“I don’t know why you are, either.” I shrug my shoulders and start to turn back around.“Wait,” he says. “Fine.”I purse my lips and stare at him in my best, ‘I’m waiting,’ expression.“I’ve been informed that you’re - “ He stops to cough. “That you’re going into town today.”“Is that okay, or am I a prisoner again?”“You’re not a prisoner,” he says. “But I want Maggie to go with you.”“I know all about your little arrangement with Maggie,” I say. “And Maggie’s a wonderful friend, but I already told her I want to go by myself.”“Why?” He peers at me with a laser focus.‘To spite you,’ I want to say.
Ansel groaned. The groan turned into a coughing fit.He was propped up in his office chair, already miserable, when Henry delivered the news that half of the pack’s children were now expected to arrive tomorrow for Karin’s dance class.Ansel’s breathing was still ragged, even without a coughing jag. It took him a minute to speak again.“Obviously, we have to call this off,” Ansel said, his voice hoarse.“The gamma I spoke with said the news is all over the pack, and there’s a great deal of excitement that the children are being invited to tour your manor - ““Tour the manor,” Ansel shouted.Henry nodded.“Did she promise them ice cream, too? College scholarships?” Ansel threw his head back. “I’m going to kill her.”“Look, I don’t know what was originally said, but I get the feeling a lot of this has grown as it’s spread through the grapevine.” Henry sat down in the chair across from Ansel’s desk.“The staff may - okay - they will - hate us for all the last-minute work that’s about to
When he returned, Doc tried to talk to him about his health. Ansel refused and left.As if to prove Doc wrong, he went out to train. Henry had gathered up the gammas to go over security for the tour and class. Ansel weighed in strategically, and when their meeting wrapped up, he led a training session, sparring with several of the gammas.By the time Ansel was done, he felt almost as sick as he did before. He cursed himself for ruining his own progress and wearily changed into one of his suits.“You ready,” Henry said, knocking on his door.Ansel opened it.“Are you okay,” Henry asked, his eyes wide.“I just overdid it a little,” Ansel said.“Maybe we should cancel this. They’ll book you again.”“We’re not canceling,” Ansel barked. “I’m not pulling out at the last second.” No way was he going to let illness get in the way. Not now, and not ever again. He wasn’t going to relive the past.He dragged himself into his office for a video call with news anchor, Beta Jack Myers. They were do
“Where’s the newspaper?”I’m eating breakfast downstairs. Or trying to, anyway. I can barely stomach it. Ansel’s rage-a-holic behavior has everyone jumpy.“Um, I’m not sure, sir.”I watch as Charles edges the paper further behind his back. The rest of the staff has gone silent.Ansel whips forward and yanks for the paper Charles is clutching, jerking him almost off balance.“Hey,” I shout, standing up. Charles is trembling. I rush to check on him, feeling sick inside.“Stay out of it,” Ansel warns, his eyes a menacing yellow.Even Ada pulses with fury. My fingers become sharpened claws, and she’s ready to make a move, but Ansel’s staring at the newspaper in shock. I turn to Charles and hug him tightly.“I’m okay,” he whispers.I’m not okay.Charles and the rest of the servants leave. Ansel’s sitting down, seemingly oblivious to me. I watch him as he reads. His face takes on a defeated, crushed expression. He puts the paper down and walks out. I get up to look at it.Prince Ansel: Fit
Neither Ada nor I recognize his smell. In a second’s passing, I’ve tagged Ada in. She growls and launches herself at the man, sending him tumbling onto his back. She’s standing on his chest and then she freezes.“It’s me! Karin, it’s me.”Ethan.I shift back, shaking my head, pulling my body off of his.He stands and pulls a hand through his tousled hair, and then smooths the clothes I’ve helped dishevel.“Ethan,” I say. “What in heaven’s name?” Then I say the second thing that’s bothering me - and Ada. “You don’t smell right.”Ethan pulls a sachet of dried twigs out of his pocket. “Little gift from a witchdoctor who owes me. It’s a disguise.”Ethan swallows and then he rushes towards me. “Karin, I’ve been worried about you. Especially after everything that’s come out in the news, but even before. Prince Ansel severed our connection. I haven’t been able to check on you.”He puts his arms on my shoulders. “I shouldn’t have given you the ring. I’m well-aware of his reputation. I knew he
“Tell me how that makes you feel.”Ansel folded his arms across his chest. “Very funny. Which part, Aron? The part where I almost strangled Edwin to death? Where I lost all of my father’s support? Coughed up a lung on live television? Or threatened to maim multiple journalists?”“Yes, yes, yes, and yes.” Aron kicked his feet up onto his desk.“I’m going to need more than our hour together, then.”“Try me,” Aron said, putting his arms behind his head.“Okay.” Ansel sighed. He counted them out with his fingers. “Edwin - not sorry. My father - not sorry. The reporters - I also don’t give a shit.”“And the TV interview?”Ansel paused. “Humiliated. Beyond humiliated.”“Okay, now we’re getting somewhere,” Aron said. He looked down to scribble a note.Ansel leaned away to cough into his shoulder. Then he covered his face in his hands and groaned, exasperated.“You’re not going to get me sick, are you?” Aron eyed him suspiciously.“No,” Ansel said. “It’s my own fucked up lungs and immune syst
The door opens and Ethan and I jerk apart. My heart is racing. I turn to see it’s Ansel and my stomach lurches.He stares for a moment, like he can’t believe his own eyes, and then I see the strangled pain come over his face. In the next second, his face is twisted with rage.“Ansel - I - ” I fumble for words.Ethan is standing frozen next to me, like a deer caught in headlights.Ansel growls and his body shifts almost instantaneously to become his yellow wolf. He stares straight at Ethan and bares his fangs, snarling. His ears pointed up and his hackles are raised.“Wait,” I say. “Let me explain - “But Jeff tears towards Ethan, who braces for impact, shielding his head and face instinctively.Jeff lunges at Ethan, knocking him to the ground.“Stop,” I scream, but Jeff’s focus is on Ethan.The rest happens in a blur. I see Jeff make a move to attack and I rush to stop him. Ethan cries out as Jeff sinks his teeth into Ethan’s shoulder.I don’t know what to do. I find that I’m not able
#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