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 POVBy the time Delilah and I arrive at Sylvia’s place, Spencer is there, too. At the sight of him, my stomach twists. There’s a somber air to the room, and his expression is grave. His presence means that Sylvia doesn’t just want to chat with me–something important has happened. And lately, there haven’t been very many good important instances. “Hey, everyone,” I say cautiously as I step into the room. Delilah closes it behind us. “Um, what’s going on?”Sylvia gestures towards Spencer. “Spencer has unearthed some intel on the werewolves who’d kidnapped you. Both of them, we’ve found, had mysterious symbols carved into their backs. We were able to trace these symbols to a rogue group that stands for freedom.”“Their definition of ‘freedom,’” Spencer cuts in with a dismissive huff. Sylvia rolls her eyes. “Right. A rogue group that claims to stand for freedom.” “So the two who kidnapped me were rogues,” I summarize. “That’s what it looks like, yeah,” Sylvia replies with a sh
Ivy's POV“The most likely scenario is that the enemy wants to use me to threaten you.” I look up at Spencer sadly as I state the blunt, painful truth. I hate that I’m such a liability to him–to the entire Lycan Royal Family. I hate that I’ve been a burden to him since we met. I don’t want to be this weak, struggling girl anymore. I’m in training now, but if someone attacks me again, will I be able to defend myself against them?Or will I just get kidnapped again?I don’t want to find out. I hope I never have to. “It’s too easy for them to use me against you, so no wonder I’m a target over and over again,” I say dejectedly, looking away. “I know,” Spencer replies. “But this attack feels different, somehow, based on what you’ve told me. I haven’t received any sort of threat, for starters.”“And if they wanted to use me against you, they’d want you to know they had me,” I agree. Spencer looks at me as though I’m a puzzle he’s trying to decipher. “But then why take you without telli
Ivy's POV“I’m definitely not hiding something!”As everyone’s confused expressions shift to me, I flush bright red, realizing just how strange my blurted words sound. “Sorry,” I clarify with a quick, awkward smile. “Um. What I’m trying to say is that I have no idea how any of that happened–if I knew, I’d tell you, but I really don’t.” I pause, thinking back to everything. “Mostly, what I remember is feeling incredibly anxious and worried about everyone’s safety. And then it was like time just stopped. Everything froze.”My words echo solemnly around the room. My eyes flutter shut as I recall the two instances of my strange power taking effect. The first time, with Spencer, had been a nightmare. I still remember how horrified I was to see him slaughtering all of those warriors in cold blood. He looked unlike I’d ever seen him before. It was scary. I was terrified–that was the most scared I’ve ever been. I’d never admit it to Spencer, but sometimes I still think about how his hands f
Ivy's POVAs Spencer glares furiously at Delilah, I can feel the angry tension crackling in the air. The hairs on my arms stand on edge. Delilah looks meek and hurt, and I know Spencer’s never one to relent. So in a quick attempt to lighten the mood, I flash a smile and place my hand gently on Spencer’s wrist. “Delilah is just trying to help,” I assure him, trying to ignore the twinge of disappointment at his immediate dismissal of the idea. I mean, it does sound scary initially, but Delilah has a point about manufactured danger. If all I need is an adrenaline kick, I wouldn’t even have to actually risk death. Lots of things could get me into that fight or flight mode–more training, perhaps, or skydiving, or bungee jumping…It’s hard to think of options off the top of my head, but that doesn’t mean the whole concept is fraught. We could’ve come up with some good plans. Spencer could have at least asked me what I thought. There’s no denying now that he’s been off lately. Somethin
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