Ivy's POVAs I try to piece together the story of what might have happened to the boy–Jason, that was his name–I can’t help but think back to when I first arrived at the Lycan royal palace. Just like him, I’d just witnessed the devastating death of a parent, and I was alone and aimless in a strange new place. I didn’t get even the smallest bit of kindness–Spencer had been distant, the maids had bullied me, and every member of the Lycan Royal Family hated me. I’d felt overwhelmingly lonely and lost, unsure of what to do.All I’d wanted was someone who could love me unconditionally. I bet that’s what Jason wanted, too. And I could have been there for him–I could have provided that for him. But I didn’t.I wasn’t there. I’ve been neglecting him these past couple days, and as I realize more and more the depths of my negligence, I feel wracked with guilt. He’s so young, and he has no one else. Have the maids been giving him attention? Affection?Jason’s mother was a maid. Do the palac
Ivy's POV“We think you should expel him from the palace permanently.”At the sound of the maid’s words, my eyes flash with anger. “Why should we take your word for it?” I snap immediately, glaring at her. I stand up straight, meeting her cruel, conceited glare dead-on. “All we know right now is that the boy was entrusted to your care, and now he’s missing. That’s not such a good look for you, is it?”The maid’ mouth falls open in shock. “That’s not–” “We just need to wait until the soldiers find Jason,” I say insistently, cutting the maid off. “Then the truth will come out. It always does eventually.”“What do you even know about him?” The maid sneers. “It was so easy for you to rescue him, sure, but you haven’t visited him once since he got here. You just got to be his hero then pawn him off on us. We’re the ones who actually know him, not you. Who are you to speak to his character?” “She’s my mate,” Spencer growls, a low warning hum. The maid’s face blanches. “Of–of course, Prin
Ivy's POVThe boy lays quietly in Gama Everly’s arms, completely and utterly unmoving. Jason has already passed out, and I’d be glad that he’s escaping the terrible pain he must be in, except that he looks like he’s on the verge of death. I’m shocked to see his body covered in bruises and blood. These look like injuries a grown man would incur in a fight, not the sorts of wounds that should be mottling a child’s body. “What… what happened?” I breathe out quietly, pressing my hand against my mouth in horror. I feel sick to my stomach, utterly disgusted by the sight before me.Who could do such a thing to a sweet, innocent child? “I was out on patrol when I stumbled upon a group of soldiers harassing a child at the border,” Gamma Everly begins, voice full of thinly-veiled rage as she looks at the warriors in the room. She holds the boy closer to her chest. “As I got closer, I realized I recognized the boy. The soldiers were kicking and beating him–it was obvious they planned on kill
Ivy's POVSpencer, the maids, the soldiers, Gamma Everly, and I are all gathered in the interrogation room. I gaze around the room, sitting at Spencer’s side. My back is ramrod-straight against the chair, hands curled into iron fists as I look at the warriors and the soldiers. I know they did it. I just need to make them confess it now. “The boy is still unconscious for now,” I say, speaking first and breaking the eerie silence that’s settled over the room. “But once he wakes up, the truth will surely come out. Now is your last chance to come clean on your own terms.”“The boy bit us!” One of the maids protests, rolling up the sleeves of her shirt to reveal her injuries again. “His behavior was reckless and self-destructive. He was mad! Who’s to say he didn’t injure himself?”“Your argument is that he gave himself all those injuries?” I repeat incredulously. My voice echoes like a vow. “Really?”The maid falls silent, staring down at the table with red cheeks. “I saw soldiers att
Ivy's POV“The Lycan Royal Family has a duty to protect all werewolves.”Under the force of Spencer’s bold declaration, spoken as though Spencer is scolding an unruly group of schoolchildren, the guilty maids and soldiers all keep their gazes glued to the floor. Their bodies start to tremble, necks almost certainly aching. I’m sure all of them know the obligations Spencer is explaining already.“We may deal with enemies on occasion, as the laws of battle dictate,” Spencer continues. “But we never go out of our way to bully anyone on purpose. This child is young, a victim of war. He’s young, a victim of war. He deserves to be cared for and taught the right way. Are you not ashamed?” The maids and warriors continue trembling in silence, and a slow, satisfied smile starts to stretch across my lips. There’s an undeniable power to the united front that Spencer and I present, and something about that power fills me with contentment. I’ve had just about enough of not being taken seriously
Ivy's POVOnce Spencer and I return to his room, he pushes me onto the loveseat playfully, grinning down at me. “Why didn’t you punish the maids and soldiers more severely?” He asks curiously, tilting his head down at me. I hesitate for a moment, struggling to explain. “I did give them a punishment.” Spencer raises an eyebrow. “You told them they have to do their usual job with the kid until the kid actually forgives them. That counts as punishment?” I laugh, letting my body relax against the soft cushions of the loveseat. “You don’t have to hurt or kill someone to make the punishment count,” I reply, sprawling out. “When I was young, I used to be one hell of a troublemaker. I mean, I was awful.”“Somehow, I can believe it,” Spencer replies with a grin. I snap my teeth at him playfully before continuing. “Oh, I was insufferable. I was definitely a nuisance to the whole pack. I’d prank all the pack members, interrupt their work, break all their things… honestly, it’s a small wonde
Ivy's POVThe next day, after wrapping up my training session with Sylvia and Gamma Everly, I go to visit Jason at the pack hospital. As I approach the room, I hear commotion coming down the hallways. My heart starts to race, and I quicken my footsteps. I get closer and closer to Jason’s room and the noise only gets louder. Is it Jason? Is everything okay? Did I make a mistake by instructing the palace staff to take care of him? Moon Goddess, if something else is happening now, it’d be all my fault–Are the maids and soldiers abusing him again? I was merciful when I issued my punishment the first time. If I open that door to find out the palace staff have laid even a finger on him–I throw open the door, panting and looking around wildly to see what’s going on. Muchb to my relief, no one seems to be attacking anyone. But I spot Jason huddling in the corner with wide, terrified eyes. He’s tucked behind a wooden chair, gripping the legs tightly as he glares warily at the maids and sol
Ivy's POVDelilah steps into the room cautiously, seeming confused by the situation in front of her. She still looks like she’s in recovery–her skin is pale, and there are still bruises all along her body–but she seems to be getting better every day. Delilah is now completely off the IV drip, and she can eat solid food again. As she moves, her pain seems to be minimal. Even the bruises on her skin have faded from a vicious purple to a much more mild yellow. I grip both of Jason’s shoulders as I turn him around lightly so he’s facing Delilah. Cautiously, Jason waves with half a smile on his face. Delilah tilts her head as she looks at the boy, clearly still not quite sure what to make of everything. “This is Jason,” I introduce with a proud smile. “I’m going to be adopting him. Delilah’s eyes widen as she takes in Jason’s scrawny, beaten form. She rushes towards me and leans down to whisper in my ear. “She’s not Spencer’s illegitimate son, is she?” She asks in surprise. I let out
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
Ivy’s POVThe longer I stay in the hospital bed, the more I can feel myself beginning to crumble. The pain is ceaseless in its intensity, great waves of agony that crash over me without letting up for even a second. I can’t scream, can’t cry, can’t move. I’ve given up on trying to call in any of the nurses when the flareups get too bad–all they’ll do is look at me sadly, scared of doing anything to make me worse, scared of simply standing by and watching the queen die. There’s an IV flowing an endless stream of pain medication into my veins, which is helping somewhat, but it’s not enough. All I can do is feel this. Until it kills me, I suppose. I have no idea where Spencer is–after he rushed out of my room unexpectedly like that, he never came back. I’ve heard some whispers floating around the hospital about a great escapade, about the looming creep of a plague sweeping through the kingdom. If it really is a plague, I hope more than anything that Tala didn’t catch it from me. If
Spencer’s POV“Alpha Fierro, I need you to focus up.” The words are harsh as they leave my mouth, but I’m not trying to be malicious, although it’s true that things desperately need to get moving. The longer I spend in the Sunclash pack, the more on edge I feel. Every wall in sight feels like it’s closing in on me, and I can feel the sickness permeating the air. There’s a heaviness to this place now, an endless sense of dread. I have a feeling that this ground will carry the weight of all its deaths for a long, long time. “Scour the office for anything that seems out of place,” I say. “If your Beta was in charge of the pack in your absence, it’s likely that he was the one putting any preventative measures into place. He may have tried to find a cure–hopefully there are signs somewhere around here.” I look down at the man’s corpse, the papers clutched in his fist and the expression of profound horror on his face. “I read his reports. He seems to have been a confident, driven man. I’
Spencer’s POV‘I think a considerable number of people managed to leave, contaminated or not.’ The longer Beta Wilson’s words echo through my mind, the more I begin to realize the scale of the potential disaster we might have on our hands. Where would any contaminated werewolves go? To the surrounding packs, most likely, and from there, the plague could spread from pack to pack to pack endlessly, ultimately becoming a worldwide pandemic…I whirl around to look at Alpha Fierro. “What was your relationship with other packs like?” I ask him urgently. “If any of your pack members were to turn up there looking for help, would they receive it?” “Probably, yeah,” Alpha Fierro says. “We tended to keep things as peaceful as possible. Unless there was very clearly something wrong going on, no one would have any reason to turn any of our members away.” I curse silently under my breath. “Keep heading towards the pack house,” I tell Alpha Fierro, already starting to walk away from him and back
Spencer’s POVMost of my skin has already been covered by my day clothes, but in the few places I’m not, I can feel the hazmat suit’s crinkly plastic resting against me uncomfortably. I shudder as the plastic continues to shift. It clings uncomfortably to my skin and is far from stealthy, causing a loud rumpling sound to ring out with every step. I’d hoped that we could carry out this surveillance with at least the slightest bit of stealth and decorum, but as the entire haphazard team of us begins to make our way into the Sunclash pack, it becomes more and more evident that that’s just not going to happen. Through the suit’s bulbous plastic dome, I make eye contact with Doctor Danbury, clearly far from amused. She purses her lips, and I can see my own frustration mirrored on her face as we continue to lug equipment around. “I know,” she says, coming up to walk beside me. “Believe me, I hate the suits too. Easily one of my least favourite parts of this job. But whatever wiped this p
Spencer’s POVAs we all sit in the back of a sleek, high-speed limo, I can’t help but feel thick tendrils of dread curling throughout my stomach. Every second I spend away from Ivy feels like I could be missing her final moments, and the fear over what could happen to her is making me sick. “The hazmat suits will be uncomfortable,” Doctor Danbury warns, holding up a hideous yellow baggy bodysuit. The plastic crinkles under her touch. “And the tanks on the back are going to poke weirdly. It’s no fun to wear, I know. But we still don’t quite know the extent of the toxicity of the environment we’re about to enter, so right now, safety is of the utmost importance. It’s possible that we’ll be able to take the suits off once I’ve run a couple tests and deemed the area safe, but I have no idea yet.” “Whatever it is, it seems to be highly contagious,” Alpha Fierro says somberly. Doctor Danbury nods. “The last thing we want to do is bring an uncontained plague back to the Lycan Kingdom, so
Spencer’s POVJust as Beta Wilson and Alpha Fierro make their way out of my office, I see Alpha Leo slip through the doorway. He looks much better than he did the last time I saw him–there are still the occasional cuts and bruises marring his skin, a couple ridged scars in the process of forming, but Alpha Leo seems to be walking without much pain. His posture is straight and his gaze is keen. He looks at me tentatively as he approaches my desk, and I can tell he’s just the slightest bit on edge. “Your Highness,” he says uncertainly. “Alpha Leo,” I reply. “Um, what can I do for you?” Alpha Leo asks nervously. I shuffle a stack of papers on the desk together. “As I’m sure you know, we’ve suffered considerable gaps in our staff,” I begin. “Specifically in our military and guard positions. One of the most notable absences is Captain McAndrews, as I’m sure you remember quite well.” Alpha Leo blanches. “Right,” he mutters. “The work you did during Elder Jet’s invasion was exceptiona