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 POVI can’t see Spencer anywhere in the crowd. I feel like I’m suffocating. I’m not used to being so completely unattended these days–normally I’m with Spencer, or Beta Wilson, or Sylvia, or anyone, really. At the very least, I usually have some sort of a warrior escort or a maid showing me around. I’m not used to being alone. It feels strange having to navigate on my own. But then again, if Spencer really does end up marrying Delilah, I’m going to have to get used to it. I push past the endless crush of bodies. I’m not even sure where I’m going anymore–I just know I need to move. He plans on marrying her in a week. In one week. I think what I resent the most is how quickly these plans came together. Was Spencer just waiting for an excuse to leave me so he could run off and get married to Delilah? How long has this been going on?I’m not sure how much time passes as I continue to scan the crowd hopelessly for Spencer or anyone else from the Lycan Royal Family, but eventua
Spencer's POVWhen I see Ivy standing there in the doorway, she’s the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. Her lovely auburn hair is pinned back in gorgeous waves that cascade down her shoulders like a waterfall, and her makeup perfectly accentuates her features. I’ve never seen Ivy wearing such a deep shade of red before, but it suits her. She looks strong–regal, even. Like a queen. Like my queen. But she’s not my queen, and no doubt that’s what she wants to talk about. Delilah’s words, her advice not to divulge our plan to Ivy myself, ring through my head. But it’s such hard advice to listen to when Ivy is standing in my doorway looking like that, when all I want to do is slip that stunning red dress off her body and kiss her soft thighs and fuck her until she’s a mess in my bedsheets and screaming my name–I do my best to meet Ivy’s furious, heartbroken glare with an impassive expression of my own. I can’t betray any emotion. “What would you like to talk about?” I ask coolly.
Spencer's POV“Well, that certainly could have gone better.” As I watch Ivy leave sadly, I suddenly hear Delilah’s voice coming from behind me. My eyes widen. I quickly look back at Ivy to see if she heard Delilah speak, but thankfully, it doesn’t seem like she did. I slam the door shut behind me and whirl around to face Delilah. “She can't hear you in here!” I hiss at her angrily. “Do you have any idea what she’ll think? I can’t deal with that!” Delilah raises an eyebrow. “Why not?” She asks. “Surely it wouldn’t come as a surprise to her. We’re engaged now.” I huff. “It’s a fake engagement. Plus, I don’t want to hurt her any more than I–” I look away sadly. Ivy’s expression of total devastation and anguish, the way she looked sadder and sadder with every word I spoke… “I don’t want to hurt her any more than I already have.” “I can understand that,” Delilah replies. Her gaze drops down to the florist’s pamphlets she’s clutching in her hands. “But for now, we should really get bac
Ivy's POV“Ivy!” Just as I’m about to enter my bedroom, I whirl around to see Spencer standing behind me. He’s breathing heavily, as though he ran to get to me. My eyes widen as I see him, and I’m struck with a flurry of emotions. Heartbreak, first and foremost. This feels like another way of getting under my skin, a power play. I feel angry, sad, and frustrated. But–perhaps most devastating of all–I’m happy to see him. I want to see him. I love Spencer. I can’t ignore it. No matter what this man has put me through, I love him, and I think I’ll love him no matter what. Which is romantic, when things are good. But when things are bad? It’s terrifying. I briefly contemplate just walking into my room and locking him out, but that wouldn’t get me anything. He’s clearly here for a reason. I open my bedroom door and linger in the doorway, looking up at him with a pointed glare. “What do you want?” I ask harshly. “I’m so sorry, Ivy,” Spencer says. “I just–there were a couple more t
Spencer's POV“Step away from them!” Gamma Everly’s voice is strong as she levels her sword at the witch’s chest. Even in the pale moonlight, her red armour seems to glow, almost illuminating her in a crimson halo. The blade’s edge is wicked sharp, and even just looking at it makes my skin feel a twinge of sympathetic pain. Her eyes are cruel and hard as diamonds as they bore right through the witch’s skull. But the witch only lets out a calm, melodic laugh as she trails her fingers along the sides of the small silver bottle she’s just procured. Alpha Leo and Wilson exchange concerned looks as they stand behind Gamma Everly, prepared to back her up the moment she needs it. “Gamma Everly, please don’t be so foolish,” the witch says with a sneer. “And tell those men to stand down, too. Ivy and Spencer are dying. There’s nothing you can do to save them. I can take you down in an instant if I want to, but I figure I should do you the courtesy of sparing you that pain now.” “Not a chan
“I love you.”Ivy’s final words to me ring in my ears like gunshots. I hold her close, I kiss her forehead softly, I do everything I can think to do because I can feel her slipping away. Her body is so small in my arms, so frail, and I can tell I’m losing her, and then–Ivy’s strange, dreamed-up world flickers in and out of view, alternating between the woods and the battlefield outside of the barracks. All at once, she’s not in my arms. I don’t know where she is, but I’m lying on bloodstained grass and I can hear the fighting all around me and my throat feels like it’s on fire. I’m awake now. This isn’t a dream. It hits me all at once, the crushing weight of realization–if we’re not inside Ivy’s mind anymore, if we’re not intertwined in that beautiful place where we could avoid the rest of the world, that must mean Ivy wasn’t able to sustain the connection for any longer than she did. And considering the poison she’d swallowed, considering the undeniable consequence of that…She’s
Ivy's POVIt takes me a good couple of moments to realize I’m not dead. Death, I’d always imagined, would be cold. Distant. Disconnected–and that’s only if I’m aware of anything at all. But as my eyes slowly open and I continue to hear the overwhelming cacophony of war all around me, it slowly dawns on me that I’m not, in fact, dead. The pain hits me a couple moments later. In my mind, it had been a nagging sort of reminder. But all at once, my throat is burning like it’s been doused with acid once more, and blood keeps dribbling down my lips. The overpowering iron taste is enough to make me want to throw up, but I do my best to hold it back. The feeling of bile against my already-shredded throat would no doubt push my already-excruciating agony to new, unimaginable heights. I’m trembling from head to toe. My entire body feels weak and limb, barely within my control. It’s hard to feel much of anything beyond the pain, really. How am I alive? I should be dead. ‘Hang in there, Ivy
Ivy's POV“Loving you is the best thing I ever did.” Spencer’s hands in mine are soft and warm and reassuring. He feels like coming home. Like relaxing. Like finally letting myself feel peace. I look at him, and my heart flutters. He’s going to be the last thing I ever see, and I couldn’t have chosen a better view. “Thank you for telling me,” I say to Spencer. It feels as though a weight has been lifted from my shoulders. I’m almost ashamed to admit it, but for so long, I’ve been clinging to the notion that Spencer left me because he wanted to. Because he could. “I wanted to tell you sooner,” Spencer admits. “There were so many times… but then there would be people around, or Delilah would interrupt me, or–did you know she told me she’d explain the whole situation to you herself, so no one would be suspicious and think the engagement was false? That was her entire reason for me to keep it a secret! All so the rest of the world would believe that Delilah was my mate, not you.” I
Spencer's POVIvy and I are lying in the grass, and as time continues to pass in this stolen in-between, I can tell her mind is racing a thousand miles a minute. I roll over so I’m facing her. I could spend a lifetime admiring Ivy–her soft, sculpted features, her beautiful blue eyes as endless as oceans, the way her auburn hair spills over her shoulders. When I'm this close to her, when we’re almost face-to-face, I can see faded freckles splashed across her cheeks like constellations. She’s a work of art. Her gaze is fixed on the sky up above, lips parted ever so slightly, hands clasped over her chest. And she’s completely, utterly lost in thought. I reach over and grab one of Ivy’s hands. She jolts ever so slightly at the touch, then looks over and smiles distantly at me. I furrow my brow. “What’s on your mind?” I ask her. “It seems so silly to bring up now,” Ivy mumbles. “Don’t worry about it, please.” I tilt my head, looking her over once more. I’m trying to etch every last
Spencer's POVMy only regret is that I didn’t have a proper ring to give her. I know the ring I would have used to propose to Ivy, had I had the chance. The ring that’s been in my family for generations. The one with decades of history behind it, that would have symbolized her place as my future queen. If Ivy and I ever got the opportunity, that would be the ring I offered to her. But as I kneel on the grass, feeling the dew slowly soak through the fabric of my pants, and reach into my back pocket, I’ve still got a ring for her. “Ivy,” I say softly. Her voice is a prayer on my lips. “You are the most courageous, brave, incredible, and beautiful girl that I’ve ever known. You’re the love of my life and the only thing that matters to me. I want nothing more than to–to spend the rest of my life with you…” I look away, the words beginning to choke me up, but return my gaze to her as I press on. “I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with you and make you my Queen.” “Sp
Ivy's POVWhen Spencer kisses me, the rest of the world drops away. He kisses me with a burning need, a hunger. I can feel it in the way he grabs my hips like a lifeline, in the way his arms wrap around me and I’m pressed so tight against me our hearts beat in unison. There’s a desperation to how we kiss. It’s like we’re both on fire. Like we both know we’re only stealing moments from the world. My hands make their way under his shirt, scratching his back ever so slightly, and when Spencer moans into my open mouth, it’s the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard. I’m his, and he is mine. Maybe we only have so long together. Maybe the number of minutes we’ll share isn’t actually so large. But we’ve left our marks on each other, worked our way into the chambers of one another’s hearts. Spencer is my everything, and as his tongue overpowers mine with ease, as my fingers tangle in his soft hair, it’s an undeniable truth of the universe that this is how things were always supposed to be.
Spencer's POV“Could you love me in death, despite what I’ve done?”Despite everything that’s happened between us, those words still hit me like a punch to the gut. Could I love her in death? Moon Goddess above, how does she not get it? All my anger, my pain, my frustration, my fury, my devastation–I feel it so fiercely because I can’t stop loving her. I couldn't stop loving her if I tried. And I’m terrified to leave this place in our minds, this safe space where she’s alive and well and I can see her, because I know the moment I go she’ll be dead and I’ll have to face the world without her. I’m not ready for that. How am I supposed to do that? I move my hands from Ivy’s shoulders all the way down to her hands, finding comfort in the feel of her skin as I do. There’s a warmth to her. She radiates peace and calm and all that is good in the world. None of this is real, but it feels close enough to me. “Oh, Ivy,” I tell her softly, squeezing her hands. “Of course I could still lo
Ivy's POV“How… how are you here?” The words tumble out of my mouth, a haze of confusion as I look up at him. Spencer doesn’t look like he did on the battlefield–instead, his clothes are neat and clean, hair prim, face clean-shaven. Instead of wild, pained eyes from having spent far too long on the battlefield, he looks at ease and more relaxed than I’ve been able to see him in a long time. Spencer looks down at me with a soft, gentle smile. Too often these days, the way he’s looked at me has been tainted with a million other emotions–anger, maybe, or frustration, or longing. But now he’s staring at me just like he used to, like the stars are in my eyes and I’m all he wants to see. Honestly, he seems happy just to see me at all. “I don’t know,” Spencer replies with a shrug. He extends a hand out to me. “I don’t think I care, really. What’s important is you.” He furrows his brow and looks me over carefully. “How are you… how are you feeling?” I place my hand in his. The feeling is