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
Ivy's POVIt’s been a day since the announcement of Spencer and Delilah’s engagement, and I’m more than ready to stop moping over it. Neither Spencer nor Delilah has made any attempt to speak with me since, which is fine by me. I don’t even want to look at Spencer, and the sting of Delilah’s betrayal runs deep. Sitting in my room and crying hasn’t done me any good. And maybe a little fighting would be a good way for me to let out some of this anger that’s been weighing on me heavy since the announcement. So I’ve made plans with Gamma Everly and Sylvia to resume my normal training schedule, and I think it was the right move. As I make my way to the training grounds, for the first time, I find myself thinking about something other than Spencer. I’m excited to spar with Sylvia again. Even though my fight with Prince Colin was brief, hopefully I’ve picked up a couple tricks since then. And if I’ve developed any new skills, Gamma Everly is the perfect person to help me hone them. “You
Ivy's POV“I’ll give the two of you some space.” Sylvia and I look up at Gamma Everly to see her stepping away. Briefly, I consider asking her to stay, but it’s probably for the best that she heads out. She’s right–as much as I want to be, I’m in no state to fight, and I don’t want to waste Gamma Everly’s time pretending to be. Sylvia and I sit down with our backs to the door of the rest room. “What happened between you and Spencer?” Sylvia asks me softly. Already, I can feel the question choking me up. “I–I don’t know,” I stammer. “Things were fine, and then Prince Colin and I showed up, and then Spencer and I got into this big fight and then I left and next thing I know he was–he and Delilah were–” I wipe away the tears springing to the corners of my eyes before Sylvia can notice. “I didn’t see it coming,” I say quietly. “I didn’t even know about it for sure until the announcement yesterday.” Sylvia grits her teeth. “That bastard!” She swears. “Prince Colin?” I ask, looking up
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