Ivy's POVBefore anyone can answer Delilah’s question, Beta Wilson emerges from the treeline, looking crestfallen. The moment Sylvia sees him, she shakes her head, looking away from him pointedly. She folds her arms across her chest in a clear refusal to acknowledge Beta Wilson at all. “I’m afraid I’m not in the mood for any more games,” she says primly. Delilah tilts her head in confusion. “But we haven’t played any games yet…?”She trails off, waiting for someone to elaborate, but no one seems to have it in them to explain what’s happened. “I’m afraid I won’t be joining, either,” Beta Wilson says, glancing over at Sylvia with obvious heartbreak on his face. “Oh,” Delilah says, clearly disappointed. Seeing her upset expression, my heart twinges. We put this whole day together to help her feel better about everything–it’s not Delilah’s fault that Sylvia and Beta Wilson’s drama has seeped into everything.I’m still a bit worried about Sylvia, and I want to talk to her at some poi
Ivy's POVLooking down at Sylvia and Beta Wilson’s unconscious bodies, resolve builds in the pit of my stomach. I can’t let them get hurt. “You’ll have to catch me first!” I shout, turning away from them. “Fat, stupid, ugly wolves that you are–”I take off in the other direction, hoping my taunts landed enough to draw them away from Sylvia and Beta Wilson. I start to sprint furiously through the woods, wind tangling my hair and branches snagging my dress. The thin sandals I’m wearing are hardly ideal for such a strain, and I can already feel my feet starting to hurt. I can hear the werewolves running behind me, snapping twigs and leaves on their fur. Their enraged howls fill the air as they pursue me with snapping teeth and razor-sharp claws. They’re closing the distance fast. I can feel them at my heels. Too soon, my lungs start to burn, and my legs ache. As the adrenaline pumps through my veins, the forest landscape a blur around me, I start to weigh my options. They’re much fa
Ivy's POVThe two wolves close in on me from either side, moving faster than before. My heart thuds in my chest like a marching band’s drum. I spin in quick circles, looking in either direction, but there’s no escape.They’re too close for me to run, and I don’t have my weapon anymore. Still, I raise my fists, kicking the wolves back as they circle me and snap their jaws. My right foot connects with the muzzle of one of the wolves, and I feel a burst of satisfaction as he recoils. “Ha!” I grin in elation. “Take that!”Just as I try to run past him, though, I feel an excruciating pain in my left forearm. I let out a scream, whirling around to see the other wolf pulling his bloody mouth away from my muzzle. Arcs of pain lance up and down the limb, and I cradle my arm against my chest, lookin down in horror at the puncture wounds oozing blood freely. As I press my palm against the wounds, trying to staunch the flow of blood, I suddenly feel a wolf’s jaws clamp around my waist–not wi
Ivy's POVThe sounds of battle filter into the wood cabin’s thin walls with astounding clarity. What I can hear makes me wince–cut flesh, snapping teeth, torn-out fur. Wolf’s feet padding along the round frantically. Bodies tossed into the trees. Every sound is familiar and distinct to me, and I hate how well I’ve come to recognize all the different sounds of violence. I listen intently, fixated on anything that’ll break the monotony that I’ve been forced through. I can’t see anything in the cabin’s darkness, but my mind can conjure a million different terrible images. What’s happening out there? Does it involve me?Am I finally going to get out of here?As I continue my theorizing, a girl’s anguished cry suddenly cuts through the air. The voice sounds familiar. As soon as I figure out whose voice it is, my heart plummets. It’s Delilah. “Delilah? Is that you?” I scream out desperately. “It’s me, Ivy, I’ve been taken hostage and I’m stuck in this cabin!” But there’s no answer–ju
Ivy's POVAs blood continues to drip from the gaping wound in Delilah’s stomach, I have to hold her up for us to be able to leave the cabin. We lean against its rough wooden boards. I scan my surroundings intently, frowning as I look out over the bare grass clearing. “Where are the warriors you fought?” I ask Delilah. I know I heard the sounds of combat, and flecks of blood and tufts of torn fur littler the ground. But the warriors themselves are gone–there’s no sign of them. “Delilah?” I say, nudging her shoulder gently. “Mmmmmm…” she groans, face ashy. She looks ghastly. “It hurts.” I rub her shoulder soothingly, brow creased with worry. “I know it hurts. I’m so sorry. I’m sure help will be here soon, though.”She did say everyone has gone out looking–I’m sure someone knows where she went. Spencer and Beta Wilson wouldn’t leave Delilah alone to figure out how to rescue me.I press my hand against Delilah’s forehead as she slumps against my shoulder. Her skin is the right tempe
Ivy's POVI want to join the warriors’ training. At the sound of my bold declaration, loud laughter immediately erupts among the warriors, making my face flush angrily. I fold my arms across my chest and glare them down, but at the sight of my frustration, their laughter only grows loudly. Spencer clears his throat, and the laughter stops at once.I want to be able to command that sort of respect. “Ivy,” he begins gently, “I can see why you’d want to get your strength up, but unfortunately, I don’t think warrior training is the route for you. For starters, without a wolf, you lack the basic conditions for training. Plus, all the Lycan Royal Family’s warriors are men. Our training is intense, and–please don’t take this personally–you won’t be able to keep up.”I take a long look around the barracks. There’s training equipment as far as I can see. Along with basic combat equipment–swordifghting dummies, archery targets, climbing courses and ranges–there’s also much of the equipment y
Ivy's POV“Return to your ranks!”At the sound of Gamma Everly’s stark command, everyone’s shock is quickly buried. All the patrolling warriors nod once before swiftly arranging into their legions. She walks up and down the rows of warriors, inspecting each one. “As if any of you would be able to understand who can and can’t choose to fight,” Gamma Everly scoffs. “I’m a she-wolf too, and I could fight every man here at once without faltering. I’m not just the strongest she-wolf here, I’m the strongest wolf here. Are you going to stand here and tell me I couldn’t make just as fine a warrior out of the mate of Prince Spencer himself? An Alpha’s daughter who’s made it off multiple battlefields unscathed? Who are you to tell anyone what they should do?” Gamma Everly’s words ring across the barracks, easily filling the space, and the warriors all avert their gaze. It’s clear how much they respect her–her voice carries real weight. A spark of gratitude fills my heart as I look over at Gam
Ivy's POVAt the sight of Sylvia, Gamma Everly nods in approval, a slight smile on her face.I wonder how long she’s waited for something like this–the opportunity to speak about what it’s like being a she-wolf and a warrior. To try and subvert the expectations forced upon her. I don’t know how long Gamma Everly has held her position for, but judging by how much her warriors respect her, I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s been at this for a while. She has all the poise, grace, and confidence of a truly seasoned warrior. How many years has she spent all alone in this? “Honestly, at this point, it’d be just plain foolish to not let she-wolves train,” Sylvia says bluntly. “I mean, I’ve had to encounter loads of enemies out in the world before.” She grabs the neckline of her shirt and pulls it down to her collarbones, revealing a horror show of scar tissue. “And this is what it did to me.” She pauses for a moment, allowing her words to settle over the crowd before continuing. “I didn’t h
Ivy’s POVAs Spencer’s words ripple through the ground of battle-hardened rebels and warriors, at first, all I can hear is the deafening sound of silence. I look around, watching with bated breath. I understand the weight of what we’re trying to do here–after all, for the Lycan Royal Family to suggest surrender, especially after such a horrific bloodbath, is a truly unprecedented thing to occur. I can see that it’s still taking everyone a couple moments more to process what has just transpired. But above all else, I believe in the inherent goodness of people. One way or another, kindness will win. It has to. When the first werewolf steps forward, head lowered and arms folded behind his back in a clear display of acquiescence, I can hardly stop myself from beaming. “I surrender,” the werewolf announces softly. The words echo through the battlefield, a whisper somehow amplified over and over again by all the history in the making of this one moment. With a flick of his wrist, Spenc
Spencer’s POVThis time, as I walk out onto the almost-still battlefield, I can feel the full force of my power returning to me. Heads swivel in my direction as I approach the center of the battleground. My Lycan aura crackles around me, a silhouette of pure power that follows behind me everywhere I step. Thanks to the Moon Goddess’s blessing as well as Ivy’s rejuvenation, I feel good again. Strong. I know I could control everyone on this field right now if I wanted to, but I don’t need to. Not yet. Right now, the gentle coercion of my Lycan aura around me is all I need. Ivy follows behind me. I can tell by the rhythm of her gait that she’s anxious to get out of here as soon as possible. I can’t see her, but I know her well enough by now that I can guess her gaze is darting around anxiously, eyeing every enemy in sight. But the longer I walk, the more confidence in my step, the more the sounds of battle start to quiet. Soon enough, the only sound to be heard is the soft pad of my f
Ivy’s POVWhile the scattered sounds of combat continue to fill the air, by and large, it seems that the battle has begun to come to a close. The last werewolf rebels are continuing to attack every Lycan warrior they see, but our enemy’s numbers have been considerably thinned. Now, the rebels are few and far between, sticking out like sore thumbs as they attempt to take down our ranks. It’s clear that we could still lose quite a few more lives at this point, but it would be meaningless. The battle has been won. It’s over. Anything else that happens now is just tying up the loose ends. “What happens now?” I ask Spencer softly, taking a look around. Wilson is still on the ground, writhing in agony as the silver spray continues to worm its way into his skin. My heart twinges with sympathy for him, but there’s nothing Spencer or I could do to alleviate the pain. Nearby, I can see Gamma Everly kneeling over Alpha Leo’s unconscious–hopefully unconscious, that is–body. Everywhere I look
Ivy’s POVI leap towards the witch without a moment’s hesitation. She lets out a shrill scream and tries to angle her antlers towards me. The side of one of the antlers cuts into my left arm, but it’s a shallow enough wound not to faze me, and I’m able to use the momentum against her and send her tumbling to the ground. The witch’s body is cold, uncannily so, and I can feel shivers starting to run through me as I press my paw against her throat. But the blood spilling from her severed hand is warm, and beneath all the strange magic etched into her being, she does seem to be alive. Which means she could, feasibly, be killed. “You’ll never get away with this!” The witch shrieks. Her voice seems to be going up to unnatural heights that I’m only able to hear due to my enhanced senses. “Jason is my son. You’ll never understand him like I could. He’ll never belong with you! You’re sentencing him to life as an outcast. Put your own cruelty and selfish wants aside for just one second. The
Spencer’s POVIvy and I exchange a single look, and it’s like we can read each other’s minds. Without even having to speak the words aloud, we turn away from Elder Jet’s corpse in unison and rush towards the ongoing scuffle. After having spent so long stuck on this battlefield together, and thanks to the months we’ve spent learning more and more about one another, strengthening our bonds, it feels like we’ve moved past typical forms of communication in so many ways. Ivy and I don’t need to tell each other our strategy–as I make my way behind the witch, and as Ivy swiftly leaps in front of her, I know what she’s trying to do. Ivy throws her body between the witch and Wilson. “Stay back!” She snarls, teeth snapping wickedly. Her snow white fur is streaked with blood, like berries crushed underfoot on a cold winter day. “Elder Jet is dead now. His cause is ruined. There’s nothing for you here.” “Foolish girl,” the witch rasps, extending her free hand and pointing one long finger towar
Ivy’s POVAs I scan the battlefield impatiently, doing my best to figure out where I could be the most helpful, all I can see is need. Spencer’s announcement on how to best take down the rebel werewolves has certainly been incredibly beneficial to the Lycan warriors. As I watch the battle continue to play out, the warriors are now employing tactics more or less reliant on grace or dexterity to make sure they can have the upper hand as much as possible. And while it’s encouraging to see the warriors continuing to make the best of the situation they’re in, adapting to the difficulties of such ruthless and magically enhanced opponents, there’s still so much death here. The Lycan warriors are getting more and more exhausted with each second that passes, and one side effect of those blasted potions seems to be enhanced stamina. Despite all our efforts to make sure the warriors have as much support as possible to do what they need to do and conclude this battle once and for all, we’re sti
Spencer’s POVThe skin of Elder Jet’s throat splits like silk beneath my claws. The last sound he ever makes is a small gasp, as though even after everything he’s said about accepting his fate, he’s still somehow surprised that I’d actually do it. For just a few moments, blood gushes liberally from the ragged wound in his throat–his weak heart pumping out blood with its last bits of strength. But as soon as his heart gives out, the blood flow stops its torrent. I raise my gaze back up to Elder Jet’s face. I want to feel something as I look over him–the wounds marring his features, his matted, stained fur, the glassy lifelessness in his eyes–but I don’t feel a thing. I pull away from Elder Jet slowly, staring at his corpse splayed out on the grass. This is the man who tried to kill me. Who tried to kill Ivy. Who succeeded in killing my father. He’s twisted and manipulated the minds of countless young werewolves, many of whom are no doubt dead thanks to him. Every action in his miser
Spencer’s POVWhen I see Elder Jet pinned beneath Ivy’s strong hold, the first thing I feel is pride. Over the course of knowing her, I’ve seen Ivy reclaim her own strength and power against all odds. When no one else believed in her, she believed in herself, and she’s been able to accomplish amazing things because of it. The sight of her now, able to so easily control such a powerful and influential man despite having been teetering on the verge of death so long ago… I’m so proud of her. I stalk towards Ivy and Elder Jet with a bold grin. “Thank you for taking care of him, Ivy,” I say. “Would you like me to handle things from here?” “It would be my pleasure,” Ivy replies. She strikes him across the face–just once, swiftly and harshly enough to open up a rather sizeable welt on his upper right cheek. As Elder Jet is still reeling from the blow, Ivy releases her hold on him and allows me to take her place. Before Elder Jet can even register the switch, I’ve got him firmly in my gr
Ivy’s POVThe sensation of Elder Jet’s skin tearing beneath my claws is one of the best things I’ve felt in a long, long time. Elder Jet lets out a sharp cry of pain as my claws rip into him. I can feel hot splashes of blood splattering up onto me, and I only curl my talons deeper. Elder Jet’s cry bleeds into a shout as I rip my paw back, tearing a ragged hunk of flesh out of his shoulder. “You,” Elder Jet snarls, looking up at me with an expression of profound loathing as he curls his lip at me and takes a step back. “Me,” I repeat with a smug grin, shaking the bits of viscera out of my claws. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Gamma Everly doing her best to limp away. Elder Jet doesn’t pay her any mind, though. His gaze is focused on me like a laser, and I can tell I’m his only focus right now. “You should be dead right now,” Elder Jet stammers out. His speech is already starting to slur from the blood loss. “After that potion we gave you, after the injuries, after–I killed