Ivy's POVAfter spending an excruciating amount of time carefully washing my body, Spencer carries me out of the bathroom and tosses me onto the bed.The moment my back hits the blankets, Spencer is on me. He pins me to the bed and starts to kiss me passionately. His tongue slips into my mouth, and my heart starts to race, but then I remember everything that happened earlier. My eyes snap open, and I press my palms firmly against his strong chest, doing my best to push him away. Spencer breaks the kiss to let out a low chuckle. He catches my delicate wrists in one hand and easily pins them both together, quickly subduing me. I let out a frustrated huff and glare up at him as I draw my leg back and attempt to kick him. With his free hand, though, Spencer manages to grab my ankle and hold me down. “Asshole!” I breathe out, looking up into Spencer’s eyes.The crackling desire I see there clearly mirrors my own. Spencer’s large, warm hand, slightly calloused from years of handling wea
Ivy's POV“You jerk!”I look up at Spencer in surprise, trying to push him away again, but he’s quick to grab my hand. We both know my attempts to push him away are futile anyways. He brings my hand to his lips and kisses every fingertip tenderly, gazing at me with adoring–if also amused–eyes. Spencer continues to thrust into me as he presses a gentle kiss against my cheek. “Do you want me, baby?”My mouth falls open, and I try to formulate the words, but I keep coming up blank. I’m still embarassed by Spencer’s blunt words just moments ago. Squeeze him?I know it shouldn’t be a shock considering what we’re doing right now, but it certainly still caught me off guard. I’m still seeling from it when suddenly, Spencer speeds up again. Every thrust is perfectly angled , making me grip the bedsheets tighter and tighter. My eyes nearly roll back into my head as I start to moan louder and louder. “Fuck, please, just like that–” I cry out. “You feel so good for me, Ivy,” Spencer breathes
Ivy's POVSpencer and I are tangled up in the bedsheets, slowly cooling down together. His fingers stroke my shoulders gently, a soft, soothing motion that tugs at my heartstrings. Spencer kisses my body tirelessly as I breathe in and out, trying to pull my thoughts together. I’m still reeling from the waves of pleasure that swept through me, and it’s taking all my effort not to slip into slumber pressed against Spencer’s warm, reassuring body. As Spencer leans over me to kiss my forehead, my hands skim his back, and suddenly he lets out a sharp hiss of pain. My eyes widened. I sit up straight and look at Spencer’s back, and my heart drops. Now that all his injuries from the battle have been cleaned in the shower, his wounds are no longer mixed with grime–the deep cuts on his skin are fully exposed, revealing raw, red flesh that’s shocking to behold. It’s obvious that he hasn’t received any sort of medical attention for his injuries. “Oh my goodness, Spencer!” I cry out, pulling
Ivy's POV“You look beautiful.”I look up at Spencer with a grateful smile, fiddling with the long, flowing sleeve of my red dress. “You don’t look so bad yourself,” I say, admiring Spencer’s elegant black suit. His pocket square matches my dress exactly. “Unfortunately, considering it’s my family, this banquet is going to be dreadful no matter how dashing we look,” Spencer says with a long sigh. I laugh. “Oh, I’m sure it won’t be that bad. Let’s go.”Spencer reaches for my hand and squeezes it tightly as he leads me out of the room and into the hallway. Together, we walked to a wing of the palace that I’ve never seen before. We stop in front of a large set of double doors, a guard standing on either side. When they see Spencer, they both bow deeply before simultaneously drawing the doors open. Spencer looks at me reassuringly as we walk into the banquet hall. My sleek silver heels click on the marble floor with every step as Spencer and I approach our seats hand in hand. The Lyca
Ivy's POV“From here on out, Delilah will be Prince Spencer’s fiancée.”I feel like I’m in shock, the words replaying in my mind over and over again. I can hear a faint ringing in my ears, can feel the start of a headache splitting the base of my skull. Spencer’s fiancée?How is this possible? Judging by the stunned, angry expression on Spencer’s face, he’s every bit as shocked as I am.“Spencer can’t marry Delilah!” Princess Sylvia blurts out, looking at the queen with an expression of surprise that mirrors my own. “Ivy is Spencer’s mate, and the two of them share a special bond that can never be broken.”At Sylvia’s reminder of the Blood Oath Ceremony, I feel somewhat reassured. She’s right–Spencer and I share something that no one else could ever share with him. No one can take that from us.But even still, I’m terrified of losing him. The Lycan Queen glares daggers at me from across the room. “A she-wolf without a wolf has no right to become the Prince’s Luna,” she declares. Th
Spencer's POVAt the sound of Delilah’s words, I can’t help but wonder if maybe, like me, she’s only here because of the arrangements her parents made for her.After all, marriage alliances between powerful pack figures certainly aren’t uncommon, and Alpha’s daughters are the most sought-after girls in the world. Delilah’s youth, as well as her pack’s strength, put her in an ideal position to be used in the most optimal and high-strength alliances. An Alpha’s daughter is considered lucky if she gets a say in who she’s married off to, so it certainly wouldn’t come as a shock to me if Delilah is just as unwilling a participant in this whole scheme as I am. I look at Delilah’s wide, shining eyes. She wants to be friends with me and Ivy? I figure friendship is much more in Ivy’s wheelhouse than mine, but nevertheless, it’s a harmless enough request. I nod at her, granting her request. “We should leave now,” I tell Ivy quickly, grabbing her arm. Just as the two of us are about to leave
Spencer's POV“You need to reject your mate.” I look over at my mother in irritation, crossing my arms over my chest. We’ve only just swept out of the banquet hall and into a small private meeting room, but my mother is certainly not one to beat around the bush, and I can see from the steely look in her eye that she's absolutely made up her mind. She hates Ivy, and there’s nothing I can do to get around that fact. As much as I hate it, I might as well let go of the notion of my family opening up to accept her. For as long as Ivy remains in this palace, I know my mother will do everything she can to make her life a living hell. “You know I’m not going to reject her, Mother,” I say impatiently, already turning to leave. This is a waste of time, and I want to be with Ivy now. I don’t need to entertain her cruelty any longer, and I have no interest in seeing how many other people she can rope into her schemes. “Wait!” She cries out, grabbing my arm. I turn around and look down at m
Ivy's POVA day after the disastrous banquet, as I’m decompressing in my room, I suddenly hear a knock on my door. I set down the book I was reading and rush over to my door in a hurry, wondering who it could be. Spencer’s off training for now, and I know he’ll be busy for a while longer. I’m not sure who I’m expecting, but when I open the door to find Delilah Devereaux–Alpha Maverick’s daughter–standing in the doorway, I’m caught off guard. “Um, hello?” I say uncertainly. “Can I help you…” Delilah smiles politely, hands clasped neatly in front of her. “I’ll be in the area for a short while longer,” she says, voice sweet and lilting like bells. “And I was wondering if, during my stay here, the two of us could be friends?”“Oh!” I reply, slightly taken aback. It’s not Delilah’s fault–since arriving at the palace, no one here has made an effort to befriend me. More often than not, I’ve been met with upfront cruelty, especially at the hands of other women here. So Delilah’s offer is
Ivy’s POV“Are you ready?” I whisper the question to Spencer as we stand behind a huge set of double doors. I’ve known him as the Lycan King for several weeks now, and been referred to as the Lycan Queen since our wedding, but today is the day it becomes official. Today is the day of the coronation. And I couldn’t be more excited. Every citizen of the Lycan Kingdom physically able to be in attendance is seated just beyond those double doors, dressed in their finest attire. I can hear the waning sounds of the band playing our anthem triumphantly, can hear the heavy steel-toed footfalls of our military as they carry out their grand display. It’s a show of strength and endurance–everything about today has been structured to portray power and confidence, from the massive outdoor ceremony in the palace’s courtyard to the full military regalia on display. “Ready as ever,” Spencer replies. “This is what I was born to, after all.” There’s a firm set to his jaw and iron in his posture. E
Spencer’s POV“Congratulations, Colin!” My mother is the first one to acknowledge the news, smiling gleefully as she looks towards her son and his fiancée. Now that their secret is out, Delilah is positively beaming as she slips the engagement ring out of her pocket and onto her finger, waving her hand back and forth. I chuckle lowly as the happy couple kisses tenderly. I just know they’re going to have the most unnecessarily extravagant wedding possible, and they’re going to adore every second of it. “I’m telling you, they’re only together because Delilah and I were engaged,” I murmur to Ivy out of the corner of my mouth. She rolls her eyes, but she’s grinning. “If you say so, Spencer.” “Must be something in the air,” Sylvia remarks. “I heard Gamma Everly and Captain Leo got engaged, too!” At that news, I smile genuinely. After all the heartbreak she’s endured over the years, I’m glad Gamma Everly has finally found a man who can match her. It seems that my wedding to Ivy was on
Spencer’s POVIt’s been a couple days since I returned from the Sunclash pack and Ivy began recovering from the plague, and things have finally had a chance to settle into a routine. Beta Wilson and Doctor Danbury have been working restlessly to distribute the antidote to those in need far and wide. We’ve eradicated it completely from the Lycan kingdom and have almost finished scrubbing it from the outer packs. All of Elder Jet’s rebels have been placed in our custody, with trials pending. Based on the reports from other packs as well as the newly-formed Werewolf Council, it seems as though Elder Jet’s toxic ideology has been defeated for good. We still have lots to do to repair our relationship with the werewolves, of course, but we’re in a good place to begin that work. And as soon as Ivy returns to her full strength, I’m excited for us to begin that work together. I set down the last stack of papers on my desk and push open the door to my office, wandering back into the main bo
Ivy’s POV“What is it?” Those are the last words I hear, spoken in Spencer’s soothing, familiar voice, before I slip into an uneasy half-sleep. I can feel blankets being shifted and jostled around me, the vibrations from wheels being rolled across a bumpy floor. But my mind is distant, dreaming. I see fire. Magic. Blood. Frantic voices cry out, but there’s someone else, promising that I’m stable–just exhausted. My body is lifted up from the uncomfortable mattress and laid down somewhere much more soft and padded. There, finally, as the terrible burning recedes from my skin, I’m able to fall into a quiet, restful sleep. I’m not sure how much time passes before I finally come to. As my eyes plink open slowly, blearily, the first thing I see is Spencer sitting at the edge of my bed, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Good morning, Sleepyhead,” he says softly. I let out a quiet chuckle. “What time is it actually?” I groan, dragging a hand down my face. Suddenly I realize that everythin
Spencer’s POVAs I push past the double doors and into the hospital’s foyer, I’m struck by the absolute chaos everywhere. There are patients being pushed and shuffled in every direction, and the entire hospital staff looks criminally overworked, worry lines and downcast expressions almost completely hidden behind thick airtight filters. I realize the yellow suits all the staff are wearing match the protective suits Doctor Danbury gave us when we were investigating the Sunclash pack. And if everyone is in plague equipment now…I can only hope we’ll have enough of the antidote to deal with all the infected. That’s an issue for later, though. Right now, my focus is solely on Ivy. “Where’s the queen?” I shout, looking around the foyer frantically. A nurse rushes over towards me hurriedly, gaze darting back and forth. “She–she’s in the quarantine wing, Your Majesty,” the nurse says. “Quite a few patients are, unfortunately. Before I can take you there, I’m going to have to ask you to
Spencer’s POVAs soon as I pass the threshold of the Lycan Kingdom, I hear a frantic message from Captain Leo echoing in my mind. ‘–and they’re here!’ Comes the call, which has surely been repeating over and over again for ages now, if I’m hearing it as soon as I’m able. Captain Leo’s voice is frantic and desperate. ‘Please, Your Majesty, we have to get this under control. We need you here.’ I grit my teeth and keep my gaze peeled on the road ahead. We’re on our way to the palace now, to deliver the antidote to Ivy and whoever else may need it, but we’re still a matter of minutes away at least. ‘We’re in the kingdom now,’ I assure him. ‘Who’s here?’‘The rest of Elder Jet’s rebels, Your Majesty. It seems they were waiting for you to leave.’ I scowl in displeasure as I watch the scenery continue to blur around us. Of course that was the witch’s final plan, coward that she was. To poison my wife and lure me out to the middle of nowhere knowing how desperate I’d be to cure her… It’s
Ivy’s POVAs I lay in the quarantine room, I can feel the growing sickness continuing to spread through my body. Alongside all the typical postpartum symptoms, which would be horrendous enough on their own, the burning is horrible in its unrelentingness. The pain meds feel more like an empty consolation than anything else now. I’m more fatigued than I’ve ever felt before, but I can’t bring myself to fall asleep, because the agony simmering just beneath my skin is impossible to ignore. Am I being punished for something? ‘What am I going to do?’ I ask Venetia hopelessly. There’s no one else to talk to but her. ‘You’ll pull through,’ Venetia assures me, though I can hear the reluctance in her tone. ‘You heard the rumours–Spencer is out there right now, searching desperately for a cure! He loves you. He’s not going to let you die. You matter too much to him.’ I chuckle bitterly. ‘At a certain point, it doesn’t matter how much he doesn’t want me to die. I’ll die or I won’t.’ Venetia
Spencer’s POVAs my claws tear through the ice-cold flesh of the witch’s body, a bloodcurdling scream suddenly pierces the air. With a fierce cry, the witch tries to wrench herself from my grasp, but she only succeeds in dragging her body along my claws, worsening her own injuries. Blood splatters on the ground and onto my paws. It doesn’t feel like blood normally does, though–it’s cold like freshwater and feels oddly slick, almost oily. I pull my lips back over my teeth and growl viciously, searching for the witch’s neck in this darkness. “You beast!” The witch wails like a banshee. I can see her eyes glinting reflectively like a cat’s in the darkness. As we hit the ground, one of her antlers breaks and falls off. “Do you have any idea how powerful I am? You don’t have the faintest whisper of a chance against me, you brute–” I curl my claws inward, deepening the wounds further, and the witch lets out another ragged scream. Suddenly, the darkness in the room all seems to slither t
Spencer’s POV“Run!” My warning to Alpha Fierro echoes through the darkened office seemingly unheard. As the shadows continue to creep around my field of vision, obscuring everything from view, my heart thuds in my chest. Never before had I been scared of an enemy until encountering the witch. I shift fluidly into my wolf form, powerful arms and legs rippling with muscles, fangs and teeth sharp as daggers. My growl is a low, warning rumble in the base of my throat. Despite my heightened sentences as I continue to peer ahead, ears trained to detect the slightest sense of movement, I still have no idea where the witch is. “Reveal yourself, coward!” I shout, my voice echoing through the room. “You betray your honour by slinking around in the shadows.” The witch’s laugh, low and melodious, fills the air. There’s a haunting coldness to it. “Honour is a werewolf construct,” she says. “And it’s so unlike a proud, foolish warrior to consider it a cowardly action to win a battle with intel