Spencer's POVAs Delilah and I walk out of my suite, I suddenly see Ivy heading to the dining hall with Jason. Ivy seems like she’s cleaned herself up since we last spoke–she’s out of her training clothes, and small bandages have been applied to her myriad cuts and scrapes. Now she’s dressed in a purple gown that glitters and gleams. Her hair is pulled back, soft auburn curls bouncing with every step, and she’s wearing just a bit of makeup–enough to enhance her beautiful features without covering anything up. Ivy is holding Jason’s hand as she leads him down the halls, and they look like the perfect mother-child pair. They don’t seem like they need me at all. As I watch them go, I want nothing more than to pull Ivy aside and talk over the day’s events with her. There’s so much I want to say. But I keep thinking about the look in her eyes when she left. The disappointment there, the anger, the fear. Would she ever want to speak with me again? I swallow my feelings as I walk away s
Spencer's POV“Does holding the wedding in a week work for you?” I look up at my mother in surprise. “Wait, did you hear me–”“I don’t care if your wedding is real or not,” the queen replies. “Goodness, Spencer. No royal weddings ever are. We don’t marry for love, we marry for duty. You think your father hasn’t taken lovers over the course of our marriage? Or even myself? You don’t have to commit to Delilah in every sense of the word, just enough for our agenda to be fulfilled.” I stare up at my mother in shock. Is this what royal weddings are supposed to be? The broken promises? The lies?If Ivy and I ever get married–and I really hope we get the chance to–our wedding won’t be like that. Our marriage won’t either. We’ll build something strong and true, able to withstand the stress and wear of time. I’d build us such a good life together, if only we get the chance. I need our enemies to be gone. I need Ivy to be safe. I need everything to be the way it should be. “So,” my mother
Ivy's POVAs Jason and I sit down for dinner, I decide that this is going to be my chance to get to know my son. After all, everything has been so hectic lately–from bringing him to the palace to the ordeal he went through at the hands of the palace staff, and then his recovery time in the hospital. And after that, I’ve only really been able to spend time with him in a group. We haven’t had the chance to chat one-on-one yet. “Do you like mutton pie?” I ask Jason as we sit down in the dining hall. “I heard that’s what the kitchen staff are serving today.”“I’ve never had it before,” Jason replies, picking at a napkin. “Can I have French fries?”I chuckle lightly. “Oh, I’m sure we can get you some French fries.”We fall into a momentary silence. I’m briefly lost in thought, still rattled by my altercation with Spencer. The feeling of his hands on my body even as I told him to stop is a bitter thing to remember. But I shake the thoughts away quickly, refocusing on Jason and smiling.
Ivy's POVI do my best to explain my situation with Spencer to Jason. It’s a surprisingly quick conversation–after all, Spencer and I are mates, and his royal status does make things complicated. So just saying Spencer and I have some technicalities to work out is close enough to the truth. Jason and I finish our meals quickly, exchanging stories from our early childhoods. By the end of the dinner, our faces both hurt from smiling. I look at Jason proudly, happy with the time I’ve been able to spend with my son. “Did you end up liking the mutton pie after all?” I ask, standing up and leaving the table. “It was yummy,” Jason replies, grinning. “But French fries are still better.”I laugh. “I’m sure. Can I walk you back to your room?”“That’d be good,” Jason says quietly. I look down to see that he’s already reached his hand out to me in a clear invitation to hold it. My heart warms a little at the sight. I’m not alone in this palace. No matter how things go with Spencer, Jason and
Ivy's POV“Can I go back to my room now?” I look down at Jason in shock, surprised to see that he’s walked up to me. He tucks his hand in mine and looks around for a moment before deciding there’s nothing to be worried about. The boy yawns widely, then rubs his eyes. “I’m sleepy,” he mutters. I smile weakly, trying to shake myself from the terrible tangle of thoughts clawing their way around my brain. None of this is Jason’s fault–a child shouldn’t have to deal with the emotional burden of my problems. “Of course,” I tell him gently. “Let’s get you to bed now.” I lead Jason to his room. When I open the door, it’s neater and tidier than most young boy’s rooms would be–clearly, the maids have been doing their work well. Good. I hope Jason doesn’t forgive any of them until he feels truly ready.“What do you do to get ready for bed?” I ask Jason as he takes his shoes off. “Pajamas, toothbrush, goodnight,” he replies, rushing over to the clothes laid out on his bed. I lean in the
Ivy's POVAt the sight of Delilah, I don’t know what to feel. When she sees me, her eyes widen, and her mouth falls open. Her gaze darts back and forth, face ever so slightly flushed. Delilah certainly seems guilty. It brings me right back to everything that happened with Erick and Veronica–a friend that I thought cared about me, and a man I thought was the love of my life. I suppose I always knew, in the back of my mind, that Delilah had a crush. But I thought it was harmless. I never thought she’d ever actually act on it. And I can’t believe Spencer would go along with any of it. “Delilah!” I exclaim awkwardly. “I was just–um, I was heading back to my room for the night. While I’ve got you here, I was wondering… I’ve been hearing these rumors–” I let out a fake chuckle, resenting myself for my clumsiness. “Total nonsense of course. But rumor has it you and Spencer are engaged. What could this possibly be about?”Delilah averts her gaze, and my stomach plummets. “I’m really s
Ivy's POVThe next day, I awake to a group of maids sweeping through my room. I sit up straight, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. “What’s going on?” I ask in a daze. “Get up,” one of the maids says with a smirk. “The Lycan Royal Family will be making a very important announcement in an hour, and they’ve personally requested you attend the press release.” My heart sinks. So the Lycan Royal Family really is going through with this whole scheme. “Alright,” I agree reluctantly, climbing out of bed. Beams of early morning sunlight spill through my open windows as I nibble at the breakfast platter the maids brought me–pastries, tea, and fruit dusted with powdered sugar, nothing too substantial. While I’m eating, the maids pull clothes out of my closet. The moment I’ve finished my meal, they’re pulling me up and undressing me from my pajamas. “Hey–slow down!” I protest as one of the maids pulls a stifling slip over my head. “Seriously? This is too heavy for the heat this time of year!”
Ivy's POVAn important announcement from the Lycan Royal Family… I stare up at Beta Wilson with wide eyes. The crowd around me has fallen completely silent, enthralled by the promise of news from the Lycan Royal Family. I wonder what they’re thinking. Perhaps they’ve been waiting for a marriage announcement for years now–after all, Spencer, as the Crown Prince, has been of a marriageable age for awhile now. Or perhaps, following all the turmoil in the werewolf world with Elder Jet’s schemes, they’re anticipating some sort of political news, a reassurance that things are going well. All at once, I understand the strategic brilliance of an engagement between Spencer and Delilah. The Lycans will be content to know that the lineage of their Royal Family has been secured, while the werewolves will see Spencer marrying one of their own–a clear gesture of faith and goodwill. Delilah and Spencer’s marriage would be bigger than just them–its consequences would ripple throughout the world.
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