“Deeper... Erick... yes!” On the day of her wedding to her mate Alpha Erick Smythe, the last thing Ivy Bell expects to see is her fiancé having sex with her best friend Veronica. When Ivy tries to call off the wedding, though, she finds her pack at war with Erick’s. In the aftermath of her pack’s defeat, Ivy’s father--the Alpha--is killed, she’s locked in a dungeon, and her wolf is stripped away. Veronica, further attempting to humiliate her, aims to turn Ivy into the pack whore, and even tries to sell her to a sadistic Alpha known for his cruelty. Just before Ivy is about to be auctioned off, though, an overwhelming Lycan Aura fills the hall, a mysterious auctioneer overtakes the bid. In a split second, Ivy finds herself sold to the Lycan Prince Spencer, a man known for both his cruelty and his overwhelming power. Will Ivy’s love be able to change him? Or will the curse that haunted Prince Spencer his whole life tear them both apart in the end?
View MoreSpencer’s POVThe battlefield is erupting into chaos all around me, but right now, all I can think about is how beautiful Ivy is. Thanks to the Moon Goddess’s blessing, she seems to be glowing now. There’s a light in her eyes, a fire that’s been ignited deep in her soul. I can sense the strength radiating through her. All her glory, all her grace, all her willingness to fight…I know what Ivy is capable of now, and I’m never going to underestimate her again. “How do we want to do this?” Ivy asks. Her gaze continues to dart around the battlefield frantically, and I can tell that she’s sizing everything up, trying to figure out the best way for our forces to win. I feel an odd sensation of pride, knowing that Ivy is now able to navigate this scene with tact and poise. I trust her instincts. I purse my lips, watching yet another one of my Lycan warriors get picked out by the group of potion-enhanced werewolf rebels. He puts up a fierce fight, but it’s too many opponents for him to fe
Ivy’s POVAs the last beautiful sliver of that eerie red moon vanishes behind the clouds, I suddenly become aware of the eerie silence that’s overtaken the entire battlefield. I look around slowly and am shocked by the sight before me. My lips are still tingling with warmth from the feeling of Spencer’s kiss, but my focus has shifted to the unsettling quiet of the battlefield. Everywhere I look, the combat has seemed to cease. Lycan warriors and rebels alike have gone still, gazes all fixed upon the sky with expressions of profound shock and wonderment. I can understand the sentiment–the blood red moon has been a wonderful thing to behold indeed. But enough to stop an entire battle? I squeeze Spencer’s hand to get his attention. “They’ve all stopped fighting,” I murmur to him. “What’s going on?” “I don’t know,” he replies. Spencer seems every bit as puzzled as I am, gaze flitting around the battlefield restlessly. I follow his focus, though it’s hard for me to dwell on the sight
Spencer’s POV“Spencer, wake up!” When I hear Ivy’s sweet, beautiful, familiar voice coming from above me, I can feel my heart swell with joy. My eyes snap open. Upon seeing Ivy, her hand gentle on my face, tears begin to well up in the corners of my eyes. I can see her starting to cry, too, face breaking out into a wide smile as she gazes at me with so much love it feels overpowering. “You’re okay,” she says softly, brushing her thumb against my skin. I nod slowly, placing my hand over hers and pressing her even further against me. “You’re okay,” I reply, looking up at her in disbelief. Illuminated by the bright red moonlight, she looks almost otherworldly. She should seem like a mess–her clothes are matted with blood and dirt, her hair is a disaster, and her eyes have this shattered, distant look to them. I can see what this battle has done to Ivy, the profound effects it’s had on her. But seeing her like this, awake, alive… She looks like the single most beautiful being in t
Ivy’s POVWhen the first rush of air fills my lungs, it feels like a lifeline tearing me away from some cold, terrible place. There’s a strange urgency to the feeling–that first breath is almost gentle, a soft gust of wind, the tender brush of a familiar hand against a flushed cheek. But the next breath that comes is a desperate, coughing, almost choking thing as my lungs do their best to remember how to take in air. The breath after that is even more ragged, and I can feel my chest heaving over and over again as I go through the motions of taking in air and expelling it even more rapidly. How is this possible? I should be dead. I died. My eyes are still shut tight firmly, but I can feel fresh tears pooling from the corners. At first I assume they’re tears of pain–after all, throughout this whole ordeal, the dreadful pain that’s torn my body apart, I’ve become quite used to tears of pain. But it’s only as I think about pain that I realize I’m not hurting at all. It’s strange, t
Spencer’s POVThe gentle glow of red moonlight on my skin feels heavenly. I find myself letting out a quiet gasp as the soft rays wash over me. It shouldn’t be such a comforting sight to behold–after all, the moonbeams spilling from the sky like tears are a dark, vicious, fresh-from-the vein shade of blood red. After all the blood I’ve seen and smelled and tasted in this life, more blood should be just about the last thing I want to see. But something about this is different. Almost against my will, my eyes fall shut, suddenly too heavy to keep open for even a moment longer. My muscles fall limp, my body slack on the grass. As wicked as the red glow should be, I feel soothed. Put at ease. Like the universe is finally letting me rest. “What… what is this…” I murmur softly, the words drifting out on the cold night air. All around me, I can hear snippets of noise making their way in and out of my perception. More gasps of shock, of awe, of horror. The moon above is a deep blood red,
Spencer’s POV“I love you, I love you, I love you, please tell me you know just how much I love you—“I’m sprawled out on the ground, a wreck of a man. My body trembles hopelessly, shaking and shivering at the slightest breeze rippling across my skin. I feel cold—colder than I’ve ever felt in my life, the sort of all-encompassing cold that you feel in your chest and in your skin, the kind that feels like it’s stealing away right down to the bone. The cold is going to take me. It’s going to take over every last part of me. I’ve got one arm sprawled over Ivy, pulling her as close to me as she could ever hope to get anymore. I can feel her blood pooling through the already-bloodied fabric of my sleeve. She’s not actively bleeding anymore—that stopped when her heart gave out. But there’s so much blood left anyways. She’s dead. Ivy is dead, and that thought will haunt me all the way into my final moments, until I’m dead too. There’s something comforting about this, though. Knowing she’
Spencer’s POVI can’t find a pulse. My hands trace over Ivy’s pale throat, the blue veins visible and inflamed just beneath her skin. I press my fingers into the soft crook just beneath the left side of her neck and move them around frantically, searching desperately for any sign of life. Ivy’s heartbeat has become so familiar to me over time, almost like a part of me. An extension of myself. I’ve always been able to feel it. To know her in that intimate way, the rush of her blood. But now I’m met with complete and utter silence. It’s tearing me apart from the inside out, but I can’t find a pulse. Tears fall from my eyes in large droplets, and the lump in my throat feels like it’s choking me. The pain tearing through my body only grows as I continue to run my hands over her delicate pale skin. I want her to blink, to gasp, to shiver—anything, please, any sign that there’s still some trace of life left in Ivy’s body. But there’s nothing. “Ivy,” I say quietly, running my hands thr
Spencer’s POVAs I stare down into Elder Jet’s cold, uncaring eyes, I’m suddenly struck by an unbearable agony unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. I let out a ragged, choking gasp as I sink to my knees. My hands clutch at my chest desperately in a feeble attempt to do anything to relieve the terrible pressure lurking there, but it’s no use. My vision blinks in and out of focus, and all the noise of the outside world is replaced with a dull ringing, a sharp twinge that seems to seep into every nook and cranny of my brain. “No!” I scream. The word is nonsensical and useless in the face of everything that I’ve been through, nothing more than a shout into the void, but I say it nonetheless, over and over again. “No, no, no—“It feels like I’m dying. It really and truly feels like I’m dying. This here, now, this sheer burning agony like countless razors have slipped under my skin, like everything I’ve ever known has been burnt to a crisp before my very eyes, this sensation that I am u
Spencer’s POVI think seeing Ivy like this is the worst thing I’ve ever seen. I approach her slowly, cautiously, the way one might approach a wounded animal. I’m scared of hurting Ivy even more than she’s already been hurt—I feel like if I were even to breathe on her too hard, she’d shatter into a million tiny pieces, just shards of glass splayed out on this battleground. I want to scoop her up into my arms and take her away into a better place, somewhere much safer than this, but would I be able to do anything at all to save her? Or would the simple movement of picking her up be enough to do her in?I did this.A wave of self-loathing hits me as I look Ivy over again. Her bloodstained clothes, her ghastly pale face, her ragged, hollow breaths. She’s the picture of near-death, if she’s not already dead. Every so often her eyes flicker open, and I want to believe she’ll be okay, but I know it’s a lie. All of this is my fault. I did this to Ivy. Despite all my attempts, all the measur
Ivy’s POVMy Alpha fiancé is having sex with my best friend, in my room, on the day I'm supposed to become his Luna.For just a moment, I stand frozen in the doorway, staring at them. My fiancé Erick is still mostly clothed, save for the dress pants bunched around his knees, and my best friend Veronica’s skirt is bunched up at the hip as he thrusts into her roughly from behind. Erick’s got one arm wrapped around her waist, and he holds her tight as he fucks her. Veronica’s eyes are squeezed shut in pleasure, and she’s clearly enjoying herself–Erick has to clamp a hand around her mouth just to keep her from moaning. And they’re fucking on my bed. Somehow that’s the biggest insult of them all. “What are you doing?” I shout, snapping out of my shock and bursting into the room. My wedding dress nearly trips me up, and my cheeks burn as I confront the pair. Erick laughs cruelly. He doesn’t even have the decency to pull out–his hips snap lazily, thrusting in and out of Veronica as she c...
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