I look down on the space, with its lit torches and pebbled paths, from the open upper level. The last time I was here, I stood trembling before Lycaon’s monolith and rejected his curse, the price we pay for the power of Fenrir and the blessing of Lupa. Wrapped in my ceremonial robe, I called out the words that shamed my family and upset the community.Now, I’m here to watch the ceremony for the second time in my life. Tonight, no young person is making the transformation for the first time. I wonder if that’s on purpose. Maybe people are afraid that just seeing me here will inspire their children to make bad choices.No one is thinking that. The only person thinking about you this much is you.But that isn’t entirely true. Mother and Father stay close, no matter where I go. Right now, they’re engaged in conversation with another couple, but I know that if I so much as go to the bathroom, Mother will follow me. And when we arrived, Tara and Clare said hello but quickly distanced themse
I’ve just rejoined the crowd in the mezzanine when a thrall bearing the sigil of the king on his jacket approaches.“From his majesty, King Nathaniel,” the thrall says, and hands me a small black envelope.Inside, a crisp card with strong, slanted script reads:Ms. Dixon—It has come to my attention that I’ve put you in an unfavorable situation. I would like to make it up to you. Come to dinner at the royal residence. Friday, eight o’clock.NathanI swallow and read it a second time before stuffing it guiltily into my clutch. Scanning the crowd, I search for any sign that my sisters or Ashton or worst of all, my Mother, has seen the thrall passing notes to me like the king and I are in middle school. To my relief, the subtle flickering of the lights overheard, like a signal to a theater audience to take their seats, distracts everyone. They’ll go down to a set of ritual dressing chambers first to change into ceremonial robes, then they’ll take their place in the circle with the others
An acolyte—a thrall trained in our ceremonies and rituals—steps forward with a shallow silver bowl bearing a glistening human heart. It’s required for the transformation; Lycaon himself was transformed into a wolf after he angered Zeus by feeding the God human flesh. Nathan grabs the heart with his bare hand and bites into it.That’s when he lifts his gaze and finds me, seconds before the transformation starts.It begins with his eyes. They flash silver, then red. His face shifts, nose and jaw elongating into a muzzle. We don’t turn into wolves. That’s a myth. We turn into a creature that stands upright; body covered with short, silky hair from our clawed feet to our canine-like heads. The fur flows over every contour of Nathan’s body and his spine curves, drawing him into a hunched posture. His ears elongate, pointing straight back, a shape humans would consider more elfin than dog-like, with tufts of fur accentuating the points. His arms grow longer, as well; in this predatory manif
I curl up from the seat, mouth open in a groan of relief of that doesn’t make a sound. My thighs tremble and tense, and I come so hard my hand and my panties get soaked. The fantasy is so fresh and vivid in my mind, I’m surprised to find myself still dressed and safe behind the wheel of my car, though I’m panting and sweating. I grab some tissue from the glove compartment and clean up the mess on my hand, my thighs, and the leather seat between them.How am I supposed to be with Nathan, alone, without climbing on him? I’m starting to hope I really am just hard up and imagining our attraction. I’m in a mating pact with someone. Fucking someone else is not allowed.But I will never feel for Ashton the things I feel for Nathan. I can barely tolerate Ashton’s touch, while I long for Nathan’s. The idea of letting Ashton inside my body disgusts me, and I’m certain it’s going to take more than duty to get me into our wedding bed. If Nathan were here, right now, I would beg him to fuck me. I
“He is the king!” she rages. “It doesn’t matter how he signed it. You should think of him, speak of him, as if he’s your king. And he should think of you as just another subject. He clearly does not.”She goes to my closet and throws open the doors, disappearing inside as she mutters about needing to buy me an appropriate wardrobe. I hear her pawing through my clothes in annoyance before she emerges with a black crepe top with pleated white sleeve cuffs and a prim peter-pan neckline. She jerks a pair of black tie-waist trousers off their hanger and throws the clothes onto the bed in disgust. “Get dressed. Your Father is waiting to speak to you downstairs.”She leaves and slams the door, and I immediately reach for my phone to check the time. It’s ten o’clock, much later than I’m usually allowed to sleep, and the Daniels will be over for brunch at noon. I put as much hustle into getting ready as I reasonably can and still leave less time between then and now for Father to lecture me.M
The night of the ball, every light in Aconitum Hall was lit. Tonight, it’s mostly dark. It’s not as inviting; the towers loom sinister and medieval over the city, blotting out the sky rather than polluting it with added light.I take a deep breath as I step out of my car. Mother and Father refused to let me take the driver and I’m not sure where one parks at a royal palace. My shoes crunch on the gravel of the small parking area beyond the front porte cochere. I head in that direction, my heart beating in an unfamiliar and worrying pattern. The door opens at the top of the steps, and I expect to see a thrall butler there. But it’s Nathan.Nathan just opened his front door. Like he’s a person and not a king. I freeze in place. He does, too. It’s a strange moment; before, the undeniable attraction between us was insulated by the presence of others and the etiquette demanded by our society. It felt like if only we were alone, nothing would hold him back. Now, it appears we are alone, and
“That must have been traumatic.” He comes over and hands me a glass, but he doesn’t sit beside me. Instead, he takes an armchair, leaning back comfortably with a highball glass of something amber-colored.I’m not sure if I should downplay what the experience was like. It was definitely traumatic. After sitting in a bare office room, shivering in my ceremonial robe while Mother and Father screamed at me, I was whisked away home to collect as much as I could stuff into my luggage in thirty minutes. A change of clothes and I was on a private plane to an uncertain future.Not even my sisters knew what happened to me. Not even my best friends.Yet, I can blurt it all out to this stranger. “When I arrived in London, I didn’t even have a place to stay. I went to a hotel and used the credit card Father gave me. A few days later, he wired me money and a promise that I would be taken care of, but at seventeen, with nothing but my passport and someone else’s money, it was difficult to get an apa
He follows that bombshell with, “I hope you like venison.”I stumble into the dining room, where a large table is set for two at one end.“It’s very fresh,” he goes on. “I hunted it myself during the full moon.”I can’t get past his earlier statement. “You did it?”“Well, you know. The only things to do during the full moon are fuck, fight, or hunt.” He pulls a chair out for me and I sit obediently, out of habit.“I’m not talking about the deer!” I lean toward him as he sits and for some reason, I lower my voice like we’re in danger of being overheard. “You invoked the Right of Accord? Your pack has a Right of Accord?”He nods and lifts his hand to signal the staff for the first course. As the thralls place bowls of pale cream soup in front of us, Nathan elaborates. “All packs operate under the same law, given to us by Lycaon the Younger. Didn’t they teach that in school?”I shake my head. “I assumed pack law was just the law of our individual pack.”“Hmm.” He considers for a moment.
We 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