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 everyone else heads straight to the restaurant, I head to the hospital alone to pick my Jason. My mind is still reeling from everything that happened–Sylvia’s mention of my powers, Delilah’s suggestion to test them, and Spencer’s immediate shutdown. It’s a lot to take in, all at once. Do I really have powers?It seems impossible to believe, but the evidence is right there. I sigh, walking quickly along the narrow path away from the palace. I know the route to the hospital well–it’s a regular part of my routine, between all my visits with Delilah and Jason. And I’ve spent a fair bit of time there, too, of course. I take my usual shortcut, weaving between a patch of shrubs and stepping into a cluttered, narrow alley that heads straight for the hospital. As always, the air feels uncannily still, and the cramped walls on either side make me feel strangely claustrophobic. But I’ve walked this route loads of times before, and nothing has ever happened. As I continue my
Ivy's POVThe werewolf that had attacked me collapses onto the road with a thud. He lets out a weak whimper, blood pooling from the wound just below his jaw, before the light fades from his eyes and his expression becomes glassy. My breathing becomes shallow. I’ve seen so much death now, but even still, it rattles it. As I slowly recover from the panic of being attacked, I suddenly realize I have something new to worry about–or rather, someone. I clamor to my feet quickly, taking a few steps back as I stare in shock at the young man in front of me. His hair is long and black, tied back loosely. He’s tall and lean and dressed in an all-black tracksuit that would look strange and pretentious on anyone else, but somehow it makes him look casual, yet sharp. His pale blue eyes glint with mirth. I can see the evidence of his brief battle on him–the tracksuit has a couple torn patches, and there’s a shallow claw wound along his forearm. His handsome face is smudged with a few droplets of
Ivy's POVColin? The mysterious stranger is Prince Colin? I look up at the man in shock. Now that I know who he is, I can see a clear resemblance between Spencer and Colin–something in the corners of their eyes, in the slopes of their noses, in their chiseled, pronounced cheekbones. But where Spencer is broad and muscular, a walking testament to pure physical strength, Prince Colin is lean and angular. There seems to be something almost slippery about him–a wiry, cunning air. I wince as Spencer delivers the fourth punch. On the ground, Prince Colin groans in pain. For as long as I’ve been hearing about the Lycan Royal Family, I’ve known that Spencer has a younger brother at the werewolf military academy. But out of all the ways I could have met him, I never thought I’d meet him like this. And Spencer and Colin don’t exactly seem to get along. As Prince Colin spits a mouthful of blood onto the ground, Spencer prepares for a fifth punch, but quickly decides against it. Instead, he
Ivy's POVAt Princess Sylvia’s question, Jason glances up at me nervously, clearly in search of reassurance. I suppress a smile at his endearing anxiety and give him an encouraging look and a thumbs-up. He looks less apprehensive meeting new people now, at least. That’s a good sign. It’ll be hard to undo some of the damage the warriors have done, but Jason seems strong. I’m sure he’ll be able to bounce back well. Jason nods up at Sylvia nervously, gaze shifting back and forth. I wouldn’t usually think of Sylvia as the warmest person, but to my pleasant surprise, she offers Jason a warm smile. “Well, nice to meet you, Jason. My name is Sylvia.”She extends her hand towards him, an open invitation to shake, but Jason just stares at her palm uncertainly. Sylvia brushes past it easily, grin widening. “I’m Spencer’s sister,” she continues. “So, if you’d like, you can call me your aunt.” “Aunt Sylvia,” Jason whispers, as though getting a feel for the shape of the woods. Everyone at
Ivy's POVWhen I wake up, the first thing that hits me is the taste in my mouth. It’s sweet and tacky, as though my mouth has been filled with liquid sugar. I smack my lips as I open my eyes slowly. I’m greeted by the sight of wrought iron bars over my head, and above that, a starry night sky. Details come to me in pieces. I let out a ragged cough, mouth salivating as my tongue attempts to scrub away the sweet taste. I remember fragments of memory—being kidnapped from the palace. Threats leveled against Jason. A cage. A conversation with Elder Jet. A sickly-sweet potion forced past my lips. And after that, absolutely nothing. I groan as I do my best to prop myself up onto my elbows. My vision is still somewhat blurred. Dimly, I hear the sound of clicking, then the scraping of metal. I reach my hand out towards the bars in a feeble attempt to pull myself back up to my feet. But just as my fingertips brush against the cool metal, ice-cold hands wrap around my forearm, and I suddenl
Spencer's POV“So imagine what I could do with the body parts of an unborn Lycan Prince.”The moment I hear these words pass the witch’s lips, my blood runs cold. Pure loathing runs through my veins. I ball my hands into fists and look up at the witch in pure disbelief, hardly able to comprehend what I’ve just heard. This woman—no, this monster, this demon, this blasphemous traitor to all that is good in the world—she’s not just threatening Ivy. She’s threatening my child. “You know…” I say slowly. “You know that she’s—““Pregnant, yes,” the witch confirms dismissively. “And I know the child is a boy. Lycan. Strong blood. Such an unborn infant would be incredibly useful to me. Although, you know, your poor darling mate unfortunately wouldn’t survive the process, and the child wouldn’t, either.”My breath becomes quicker and quicker, heart racing. I feel like the floor is crumbling beneath me. “You wouldn’t,” I say slowly. “You couldn’t—““Oh, but I could, Your Highness,” the witch
Spencer's POVWhen the door to the barracks swings open, it’s as though the world itself stands still. Elder Jet grins smugly as a tall woman steps out of the building. Her movements are fluid, graceful. She must be at least six feet tall. She’s as thin as a whip and looks like she’d cut just as deep. Her hips sway from side to side as she moves, and her body is clad from head to toe in a smoky gray dress that barely seems to be made of fabric at all—it looks like liquid smoke. It’s the veil that tells me who she is, though. Once she’s fully out of the barracks, she looks at Elder Jet for just a moment before swivelling around and looking at me. She tilts her head ever so slightly, and a shiver runs down my spine. Her face is covered by a dusky gray veil that looks like it’s been embroidered with dewdrops. The veil falls all the way to the ground both in front of her and behind. Above her head are a pair of antlers that are draped with chains and gnarled vines. She takes a single
Spencer's POVGod’s wrath. The words ricochet through my brain as Elder Jet pulls away from me suddenly. I reach out to try and apprehend him. I need to take him in, need to make him pay, need to find a way to get to Ivy before he can hurt her—But as Elder Jet begins to vanish into the surrounding crowd, before I get the chance to hurry after him, a pair of massive transformed werewolves move to block my path. I bare my fangs and them and growl before craning my neck to try and catch a glimpse of Elder Jet beyond me. He’s still doing his best to move through the crowd, still slightly weakened from me tackling him to the ground earlier. Those old bones must be brittle. The occasional Lycan warrior tries to apprehend him on sight, but every time one tries, more transformed werewolf rebels move to surround him. “Let me get to Elder Jet, and I just might let you live,” I snarl at the two werewolves. “We’d lay down our lives for Elder Jet,” one of the rebel werewolves replies. His vo
Spencer's POVAs I throw the lifeless body of yet another transformed soldier off of me, I can feel myself trying to formulate a plan. I try to remember what I can about the effects of these potions. The strength, the size, the bloodlust—all of this is familiar. But there was another side effect to the potions, as well. Something that Elder Jet never wanted us to know about. The potions will inevitably drive those who have taken them mad. I disentangle myself from my latest round of combat and quickly mind link Gamma Everly. ‘We need to wait them out,’ I tell her. ‘They’ll start to slip eventually! We just need to make it until then.’‘Look around, Your Highness,’ Gamma Everly warns. ‘They’re tearing through our forces like it’s nothing. Do you really think they can stall? We’ve been through a lot.’‘We’ll just have to do the best I can, then,’ I reply, looking around restlessly. Gamma Everly’s voice leaves my mind, but she rejoins the link a moment later. ‘Do you remember Ivy an
Spencer's POVAs the painful ringing slowly begins to fade away from my ears, all around me, Elder Jet’s werewolf rebels are starting to shift. I look around uncertainly, doing my best to keep my bearings despite my extreme disorientation. I thought I’d seen the worst of these transformations before, the first time I’d encountered Elder Jet’s blasphemous witches brews. But as it turns out, what I’d seen then is nothing compared to what I’m seeing now. Before, all I’d seen was the twisting of skin, the subtle shifting of muscle and bone. It was unnatural, but seemed confined to the realm of reality, at least. Now, though, as I gaze upon the rebels’ hideously contorted bodies, the transformation is even more disturbing to bear witness to. It’s as though their bodies are exploding from the inside out. The sound of bones crunching fills the air, and I can actually see bone and muscle sliding along the surface, pulling the skin taut in places. They look like the exaggerated villains fro
Spencer's POV“You don’t have any ground to stand on, Your Highness.”Elder Jet spits out the words Your Highness, sneering as they pass his lips. He looks around at his forces, the assembled rebel werewolves, and seems proud of the group he’s created. I look around at them, too. What I see makes my heart sink. None of the rebels look particularly convinced by anything Alpha Leo is saying. In fact, as his words wash over him, their expressions contort and twist into anger. I can see it on their faces—they no longer think he’s one of them. They’ve seen him switch sides, and rather than follow in his footsteps, they're prepared to resent him for it. ‘Stand down,’ I tell Alpha Leo. ‘I’ll handle it from here.’‘They’ll be killed!’ Alpha Leo protests. He doesn’t look at me, but I can see the pain in his eyes. I feel for him. They’re his people, and he’s the one who sent them into Elder Jet’s arms. Alpha Leo let them get led astray, and now they’ll have to pay for it with their lives. I
Spencer's POV“You’re the traitor, Elder Jet.” Alpha Leo is staring Elder Jet down with a vicious, furious glare. There’s betrayal in his eyes, too, and I realize just how painful this must be for him. I remember what I know about him. That his father died when he was quite young. That Elder Jet took him in, stepped up. Elder Jet became his father, in a sense. Alpha Leo has quite possibly been more poisoned than anyone else. And he was able to break out of it. It must feel like the world is crashing down around him. I can’t sympathize, but it’s always good to pay attention to the emotional state of those closest to me. To cue into their patterns and behaviours. To be able to tell if they’re going to snap. Alpha Leo curls his hands into tight fists as his gaze remains locked on Elder Jet like a fuse. His mouth opens and closes several times, and just as I’m about to step in and pull him away from Elder Jet myself, he finally begins to speak. “I recognize quite a lot of you,” Al
Spencer's POV“Elder Jet!”My roar cuts across the battlefield like a hurricane. I don’t even realize that I’m doing it, but my Lycan Aura rolls off of me in droves, sending every single werewolf except for Elder Jet to their knees. I narrow my eyes at him. Elder Jet remains standing, smiling smugly. A ripple of unease shoots through me. He should be on his knees by now, unable to resist the power of my Lycan Aura, but it doesn’t seem to be working on him. I set my jaw and march towards him. There’s iron in my posture and ice in my veins. I don’t care what sort of blasphemous witch’s magic Elder Jet is using to fortify him—the rest of his forces are now out of commission, and in a fight between him and I, I’d be the obvious winner. “Where’s Ivy?” I snarl at Elder Jet. Elder Jet lets out a wicked chuckle. “Oh, she’s not far,” he replies. “But if you want to see her alive ever again, you’ll kindly refrain from killing me.”The anger washes over me in a sudden, white-hot burst. It ta