Bailey , a fierce werewolf, made a tough choice to leave her pack and embrace her destiny. But when she returns, she's thrown into a world of danger, power, and forbidden love. As Bailey tries to find her place, a new pack king, Nathan Frost, emerges. Handsome and ruthless, he demands her obedience. But Bailey's not one to back down easily. She's determined to fight for her freedom and the love she truly desires. Just when Bailey thinks she has it all figured out, a shocking twist sends her world spinning. The mysterious stranger who took over the pack's throne might not be who he seems. Secrets unravel, alliances shift, and Bailey's life is on the line.
View MoreWe plan furiously, and fast. Xiao secures a location, a tiny cabin that’s way off the grid in Manitoba. We’ll be isolated from the world, but most importantly, from the pack; they don’t know that our thralls have hideouts all over Canada.Even though she only has to make a few calls, we decide not to chance letting anyone know that we’re leaving. Yet again, we’re bugging out. We’re leaving our kingdom because our subjects want us dead.It’s almost midnight when Nathan and I go to my bedroom, and I start hauling out all my luggage.“You don’t have to pack tonight,” he says gently.I don’t look at him. “I don’t have to. But I’m going to.”“You’ll tire yourself out. We’ll have a long drive tomorrow.”I shake my head. “Then I can sleep on the drive.”Nathan comes to my side and puts his hand on my arm. “Bailey… don’t do this to yourself.”“Don’t do what?” I snap. “Take anything with me to fucking Manitoba? Just resign myself to dying in the wilderness, ripped apart by polar bears?”He doe
“Bailey and I won’t change. We’ll remain here, under guard, at Aconitum Hall,” Nathan declares, and my heart sinks. I’ve gotten to be in my werewolf form once. Just one time. I was looking forward to transforming again.But Nathan’s right and I can pout about it later. We will be more vulnerable in a dark forest with potential traitors.“That will keep the two of you safe, but what about the rest of the pack?” Hannah argues. “Two werewolves have failed in their attempts to kill you, the objects of the thralls’ spells. The thralls know about it. So, who’s to say that they’ll even allow us to turn? We’re interfering in something they thought they’d kept secret. They could easily poison us, trap us, do anything to us when we set foot on that ceremonial ground.”“If all of us stayed home, they’d get suspicious,” Ryan says. “Maybe they’d believe we were against them.”“Aren’t we?” I ask. “They’re working magic on us against our will, without our knowledge or consent. They’re working agains
The thralls want to exterminate werewolves? “That doesn’t make any sense. They need us—”“Needed us.” Tara stresses the past tense. “They have all the arcane knowledge they need now, except for one thing.”“Dominion over life and death.” Nathan stands and paces the length of the room.The earlier sense of proactive hope sucks from the room.“They basically forced you two to breed,” Hannah says. “Dominion over life.”“There’s more.” Tara steers us back toward her research. “After the gods fall and the earth is submerged in water, life begins again. Two humans survive Ragnarök: Lifthrasir and Lif.”“How do they survive the end of the world,” I ask, silently tacking on and who would want to?“They hide. They run away to the woods and hide until everything is over,” Tara says with a shrug. “And when they come out, they repopulate the world.”“That would be dominion over death, wouldn’t it?” Nathan suggests. “Rebuilding anew on top of that destruction?”“Are the thralls acting out Ragnarök
“In which case, why would the thralls give her the magic she would need to throw a wrench into their plans?” Nathan grimaces and curses under his breath.“I’m going to write this…” Hannah says, uncapping a new marker and turning back to the whiteboard. “…in blue… so we know… it’s unsubstantiated…”When she turns back, the “moonstone” entry has a color-coded bullet point that reads: “humans”.“Fantastic,” Ryan exclaims. “This gives us a direction to move in.”He reaches across the table and grabs a notebook and pen. “Make fun of Hannah all you want, Bailey, but look. She brought paper.”“Paper can be destroyed,” Nathan muses. “Good idea, Hannah.”She gives me a playful little smirk.I laugh and gesture at the board. “Okay. Now, let’s talk about this Tyr and Fenrir thing. I admit, I’m not the expert in mythology here, but they never boned down, that I can recall. What’s the point of symbolically making them have a baby?”“Good point.” Hannah writes, “Not literal symbolism” as a bullet po
Two days later, we have a secret meeting in the conference room at Aconitum Hall. Just Nathan, me, Hannah, and Ryan, and of course, Xiao, who stands by, guarding the door.Hannah has us all set up, with a white board and different colored markers— “to stay organized!”—as well as notebooks, pens, highlighters, all types of stuff we don’t need.“You just wanted to take a trip to the office supply store,” I accuse her.“I can neither confirm nor deny,” she answers, contentedly stroking a pack of gel pens.“While the abundance of stationary is impressive,” Nathan begins, “Let’s start with what we know so far.”He turns to the white board and writes “wwksf” in the upper left corner.All of us, even Xiao, make alarmed noises at the chaotic shape of the letters.“How about someone with better handwriting?” Ryan suggests, tacking on a hasty, “no offense, Your Majesty.”“He doesn’t get to take offense in here,” I remind Ryan. “Remember, this is informal.”“Well, who has better handwriting?” Na
The doctor tilts her head. “It’s still very early. How did you know?”“I could tell,” Nathan answers while I try to figure out how to phrase, “He tasted it in my pussy juice.” He’s much more tactful about it. “She smelled different.”A smile touches the corner of the doctor’s mouth. “A lot of males know first, if they’re especially in-tune with their mates.”I’m not sure we can describe Nathan as being “in-tune” with me, but I smile back weakly, anyway.The doctor runs me through a barrage of questions: am I experiencing morning sickness? have I noticed weight gain? what about swollen feet, dizziness, fainting?Every time I answer, I wonder if it means something, if my answers will reveal that surprise, I’m not really pregnant at all.I must not be the first person to worry about that in this office, because Dr. Campbell says, “Relax. This is just a thorough record of your symptoms. We’re establishing a history for you and baby.”“Oh. Good.” I feel a little silly. “I know it’s weird,
Somehow, in all the ugliness of pack politics and multiple attempts on my life, I totally forgot about pre-natal care.I’m just not sure how to get it, at first. Thralls are in charge of all of our medical care, and I don’t know how much we want them to know. But Nathan and I decide that we can’t take a chance with the baby’s life.As we wait in the exam room, looking at all the posters of werewolf fetal development and the plastic anatomical model of the baby’s head in the birth canal—no thank you—I find the situation becoming more real by the second.“Did you ever think you’d have kids?” I ask Nathan, who’s looking over a pamphlet about the first trimester.He lifts his eyebrows and folds the pamphlet before neatly tucking it into his inside jacket pocket. “I assumed I would. In a hypothetical, detached kind of way. There’s so much pressure to find a mate and breed right away. That’s never appealed to me.”“It’s not so appealing to me, but here I am. In a paper gown.” I laugh nervou
“They’re not thralls?” She’s just as bewildered by the information as I was. “Like, thralls that ran away from the pack or—”“Just humans who use magic.” Since I don’t know the details of how that all works, and since that’s not really the point of the conversation, I go on. “We needed someone outside of any pack, who could examine the spell objectively and tell us what we needed to know, without any investment in the outcome.”“What did he find?” The fact that Tara is talking to me now, not just looking for ways to snipe at me, feels like a cheap thing to be happy about. It doesn’t mean anything other than that she’s interested in this particular conversation.But I’ll take it. “I’m bound with runes from Tyr’s aett.” I don’t have to explain what those are; Tara’s always been a bit of a mythology nerd. “And Nathan is bound with etheric chains.”“Like Fenrir,” she says, referencing the wolf held captive by the gods. She glances down at my stump. “Wait. Nathan didn’t—”“No, Nathan isn’t
Tara is dressed all in black, seated on the sofa in the parlor adjoining her room and Clare’s. That door is closed, draped with black bunting.I sit in the chair perpendicular to the sofa and silently will my sister to look at me, to speak to me beyond the mumbled, “Your Majesty,” I got when she curtseyed formally at my entrance, or the offer of a beverage, which I refused.“How are you?” I ask finally.“It’s very lonely here,” she says flatly. “It was different, with Clare. More like when we lived at home, before we were mated. We didn’t see each other much when you were away.”“Because you were newly wed?”She nods.“I understand that,” I try, hating myself for even attempting to link my experience with hers. “Getting caught up in your mate’s life and drifting away from your own.”“It’s a bit different for you. You’re also caught up in being queen.” She finally makes eye contact with me. “Do you think that maybe you got too caught up in it? And that’s why…”She doesn’t finish her se
I can’t believe I did it.Brushing my fingertips over the indentations of my words on the paper, I try to remember how I felt when I wrote them. Vague ideas like “exhilarated” and “terrified” come to me, but I can’t experience that day again, no matter how hard I imagine.It was the day my life completely changed. The day I invoked the right to leave our pack and live a mortal life for five years, instead of simply accepting the transformation and becoming a full werewolf.The intercom chimed its gentle breakfast announcement and I put my old diary back in the bedside drawer, where it’s awaited my return for the past five years. But I’m not the seventeen-year-old I was when I left. I’m a grown-up stranger in that girl’s bedroom, with its soft pink canopy bed curtains and gleaming white furniture.You just got home, I remind myself. Give it time.I go to the vanity where I spent so many teenage hours practicing my eyeliner skills and contouring my face to Kardashian perfection. Things
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