“Stop!”My shout alarms Nathan, but he does, at least, stop taking his clothes off.“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I demand.“It’s the twenty-third.” He gives me a moment to realize my error, which I obviously don’t, and then goes on, “My secretary said—”“Who the fuck was that?” I jab my index finger toward the window, but Nathan’s gaze falls on the playpen and he looks over his shoulder, in the direction Hannah has just gone.“I assumed she was someone you knew—”“Not Hannah!” I press my fingers into my temples. “The woman you were kissing outside!”He doesn’t react the way a man who’s been caught cheating on his wife should react. That is, with any remorse at all. He blinks. “You saw that?”“Yes, I saw!” I pace furiously in front of the fireplace. I wish he gave me a wedding ring, so I could throw it into the flames. “Who is she?”“Amber Rogers.” He doesn’t try to deny it at all.“The former queen?” I hate the way my voice accelerates upward with my anger.“The deposed
Nathan doesn’t see me at breakfast. He doesn’t see me for another whole week. I thought for sure that his panic about needing an heir would drive him to my bed before my fertility window closed, but he’s as stubborn as I am.We’ll be a hundred before we have any kids.Meanwhile, I’ve started to doubt my course of action. Though Aconitum Hall is a castle, it’s way too small when one is aware of one’s mate on a microscopic, metaphysical level. Nathan is never far from my thoughts; our connection becomes more and more insistent the longer we stay near-but-apart, and I’m not the only one feeling it. I can smell his arousal every night as I lie in my bed, and I know he’s doing the same thing I’m doing with my hand beneath the covers. Worse, he knows I’m doing it, and somehow that makes it even hotter.I hate that I think about my cheating husband as hot.“Hey, are you with us?” Hannah asks one afternoon, snapping her fingers in my face.I swat her hand away. “Yes, sorry. I got distracted.
That night, I wait until the residence is mostly silent, and I set off to find Nathan.I have no idea where his bedroom is. I’ve never been there. Whenever I’ve asked anybody, they’ve been evasive about it. But I was wrong about Hannah not being able to help me in this; she finds out in about three minutes, just by playing ditzy to a guard.I study her scribbled map and tuck it into a drawer with a deep breath before I leave my sitting room. Now that I know Nathan has a bit on the side, I’m not sure what I’ll find when I arrive at his room. What if I barge in there and he’s mid-coitus with his mistress?Ugh, what if that’s what I’ve been feeling every night, when it seems like his sexual energy is going to reach out grab me and pull me straight into his bed?The door to Nathan’s tower is hidden. No joke, it’s a hidden panel in the wall of his study, and I have to admit, it’s pretty thrilling to pull a candelabra on the wall and see a huge bookcase swing open to reveal a spiral stairca
For a man who assured me he won’t be manipulated with sex, Nathan sure works fast. My sisters arrive from Newfoundland the morning before my coronation, less than twenty-four hours after Nathan and I made our deal.Hannah pulls me away from a fitting for my coronation gown to head down to the empty throne room. There’s already a secondary throne on the dais for me. Even though I’m not queen yet, I take it, anyway.The majordomo is there, and he waits for Hannah to signal him before the guards open the doors and he announces, “Tara and Clare, formerly of the Toronto pack.”The “formerly” part of the sentence has to sting. So does, I imagine, the part where their last names have been stripped from them. Even from across the throne room, I see Tara flinch. But Clare holds her head up regally as they approach, and they both curtsey when they reach the dais, but I jump up and nearly tackle them.“I’m so glad you’re okay!” I don’t care that tears roll down my face while I hug them.Clare st
I enter Nathan’s study a few minutes before nine. I don’t want to be late to close our transaction. It might affect future negotiations. The secret door is open. The staircase winds up into darkness. I take a deep breath on the first step. Nathan is waiting for me. The closer I get, the stronger our connection becomes. I hold my breath as I climb, and by the time I reach the top, I’m lightheaded. I would be anyway.Nathan stands in front of the fire in the white shirt and black trousers he was wearing during the day, but I notice that this time, he’s not drinking anything. It strikes me as odd because he’s almost always drinking some kind of alcohol. Its absence alerts me to its near constant presence, and for a moment, I’m concerned that he might be using it to cope with the stress of his position.Well, he could make things at home a lot less stressful if he stopped being a cheating asshole who can only get his wife to fuck him as payment for favors.He glances down at his watch bef
It’s like being struck by lightning. But in a good way. My body convulses from that single drop. My lungs heave for breath, my empty cunt clutches down on a phantom intrusion that I welcome, and I scream, racing toward a climax that will burst me apart at the seams.A climax that never comes.I never come.“What did you do?” I gasp, sweat rolling down my face as every nerve strains with the agony of need.“I told you. It’s more potent.” He moves up my writhing body to cup one of my breasts. The touch, even through the silk nightgown, should be enough to bring me over the edge, but I’m stuck. He lifts my breast free and sucks my exposed nipple into his mouth, closing his tongue over it.“Please,” I whimper, overcome by the aching want that grows stronger by the second.“The only thing they can’t quite get right,” he says, referring to the thralls that formulated the substance, “is how long it lasts.”“W-wha—”“And there’s such a long period of time before orgasm is even possible—”“Wha
“Ready?”I glance up from the mirror. Staring at myself isn’t going to fix any of the myriad flaws I suddenly find with my appearance, which has been impeccably styled by a gaggle of strangers who brushed and blushed and zipped and tucked me into the regal woman in my reflection.Clare stands at the door, looking more like a queen than I ever will. She wears a gown with a similar cut to mine, a faux-Tudor look with heavy brocade trumpet sleeves and a tight bodice with a low, square neck. My skirt is a little fuller than hers, and mine is white and gold where hers is pale yellow; when we walk out of my sitting room—currently a staging area for all the preparation that went into my look—we make a swishing sound.“I’m nervous,” I whisper, as if it’s not a foregone conclusion.Clare, always the more practical of my two sisters, advises, “Don’t let them see it.”The lack of comfort is oddly comforting.In the entry hall of the residence, we’re joined by a retinue of thrall guards, and Tara
Blood.It’s blood on my hands, across the front of my gown. I cast my gaze to my sisters, first; Clare and Tara are both wide-eyed, but I see no obvious wounds on them.The acolyte is on the ground, a throwing knife lodged in her spurting throat.“Protect the queen!” someone shouts.It’s Nathan.I throw my hand out to grab him. I need an anchor in the chaos. He would never let them hurt me, never let—He grunts in pain and staggers back. More blood splashes across my gown and I scream.Someone grabs me, and I’m torn from Nathan’s side. The last thing I hear him say is, “Get the queen to safety!”“What’s going on?” Tara cries as the thrall guard drags us into the empty ball room.I look back at the crowd as the doors close and fear claws up my throat.“Take them to the residence,” the head guard orders. “I want shutters, spike strips, nobody leaves through the front gate.”I blink at him, thinking he’s talking to me, but he’s speaking into his wire. Someone grabs me by the arm and phys
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