Ivy's POV“What do you mean he can’t change it anymore?” I slam my hands on the table and lean forward as I ask the question. Sylvaos’ eyes widen, and she looks almost scared of me as she takes in my reaction. As my heart pounds and blood roars in my ears, I realize that it’s Venetia’s fury rushing through my veins, filling me with a primal anger at the idea of Spencer marrying someone else. “Ivy, are–are you okay?” Sylvia asks tentatively. I hesitate, trying to calm myself down. I offer Sylvia half a forced smile and fold my hands over my chest. “I–um.” I let out a heavy breath. “Sorry for… the outburst. It’s just–this whole situation has been really stressful on me, you know. But I’m fine! I’m fine. I just… What do you mean he can’t change it anymore? Like, he’s been trying to change it before?” Sylvia shrugs. “I don’t know. He’s been finicky with the date–Mom has been complaining about it like crazy. He keeps pushing it backwards, saying there’s more stuff that needs to get don
Ivy's POVIt’s been two days since I was late to pick up Jason from his training, and I’ve been wracked with guilt ever since. That’s why I’m seated in the dining hall at precisely twelve o'clock, gaze flickering back and forth tensely, eagerly anticipating Jason’s arrival. I feel like maybe we haven’t been connecting as much lately, ever since I switched off from his training. There’s something to having an established routine with someone, an excuse to see them all the time. I know my situation with Jason isn’t the most conventional, but I still want to be the best mother I can possibly be, and that begins with making the effort to try with him. But the minutes tick by one after the other, and my stomach begins to sink as more and more time passes. Does he hate me? Is this some sort of payback in Jason’s mind? I was late to pick him up from his training, so now he’s going to leave me stuck waiting for him–Finally, more than half an hour past the original meeting time we set, I
Ivy's POVLater that day, after passing the time training furiously with Gamma Everly, I return to the dining hall alone for dinner I’ve extended a dinner invitation to Jason, but according to the maid, he refused to even acknowledge the invitation–which is so much worse than if he’d just declined. I sit alone at the far end of the room, staring silently at the floral embroidery on the tablecloth and waiting to be served. What’s wrong with me? I’ve been replaying the conversation over and over again in my head. Why did I snap at Jason? How could I possibly have become frustrated with him? What’s so broken in me that I’m lashing out at my own son? And does he really feel so unloved that he can’t even bear to spend a dinner with me? ‘Everyone has been leaving you lately,’ Venetia says ruefully in my mind. ‘Spencer is engaged to Delilah, Jason doesn’t need you for training anymore, and once Sylvia and Wilson are married, neither of them will have any time for you. I wonder if maybe w
Ivy's POVAt the look of raw, primal fear in Spencer’s eyes, I suddenly get the feeling that something is very, very wrong. “What–what is it?” I say tentatively, looking at Spencer with wide, frightened eyes. I can smell all the wonderful aromas of the food laid out in front of me–the luscious rich scent of rare, just-barely-cooked meat, herbs roasted in butter, delicately braised vegetables… But now at the sight of the meal, my stomach churns. “I’m so sorry, Ivy,” Spencer says quietly. He takes a seat beside me and grabs my hand, running his thumb along my palm. The look in his eyes is earnest and gentle, as if fearing my reaction. “Your food has been laced with poison.” It’s as though the world goes still. My head starts to pound, panic blurring my vision. I look down at the plate of food in disgust. Suddenly it’s grotesque to me, globs of fat and dripping oil and stringy viscera. Like something unreal. Like I never want to eat again. Poisoned? How could that possibly have h
Spencer's POV“Who would do such a thing?”Ivy’s question ricochets through my head. I really hoped she wouldn’t ask–she doesn’t need to be hurt anymore than she’s already been hurt–but I know her well enough to know that there’s no way she wouldn’t have asked. “You don’t have to worry about that right now,” I tell Ivy softly, hoping that will placate her.Ivy frowns. Her gaze snaps up to meet mine. “You know,” she says in accusation. “I know,” I confirm, pursing my lips. “Tell me!” I hesitate, breaking eye contact and lowering my gaze to Ivy’s hands twined in mine. How is this supposed to work? How am I supposed to say this? There’s no good way for me to tell Ivy that her own adopted son just tried to kill her. I’d been eager to break away from wedding discussions with Delilah when I suddenly remembered that I hadn’t seen Jason in quite awhile. And I certainly wouldn’t have adopted the boy on my own–really, the only reason we’re connected in the slightest is because of Ivy–but
Ivy's POVAt Spencer’s words, an immediate jolt of shock ripples through me. “No.” I shake my head immediately, breaking eye contact with Spencer. I can’t stand to look at him after what he just said. “No, I–that doesn’t make sense. Jason couldn’t have done this! Jason wouldn’t have done this, that’s absolutely absurd–” I draw in shallow, rapid breaths and can immediately feel the lack of oxygen hitting me. I feel like I’m underwater, the sounds and sensations around me miles away. Spencer reaches out and grabs my hand, no doubt an attempt to bring me back to reality, but his hand feels like ice. “Ivy, please. You have to listen to me,” Spencer says quietly. “After realizing I hadn’t seen Jason for awhile, I went to go check in on his training, but I overheard him speaking with Warrior Lance about having the chefs in the kitchen poison your meal tonight. Warrior Lance was the one who planned the whole thing, but Jason is the one who carried it out. Jason brought wolfsbane to corrup
Ivy's POV“We’ve found the suspect, Your Highness.” The world feels like it’s falling apart around me as Captain McAndrews refers to my own son as ‘the suspect.’ How could this be my life? How could this be my son? But there’s Jason, guilty as all hell and glaring at the floor of the dining hall. Spencer frowns, looking Jason up and down. His expression seems devoid of any emotion–it’s as though he’s just looking over another captive. “Where’s his accomplice?” Spencer asks. His voice fills the dining hall with cool, steady authority, a clear voice of reason. “Unfortunately, he evaded our capture, Your Highness,” one of the warriors says apologetically. “We’ve got a separate team on the lookout for former Warrior Lance Silvers, though,” Captain McAndrews clarifies hastily. “And we will not rest until he has been captured and brought to justice.” Spencer nods. “Good. Now, Jason.” His cold gaze fixes on the boy, who starts trembling like a leaf. “What do you have to say for yoursel
Ivy's POVAs he considers the possibility of being put to death, Jason’s eyes widen in fear, and his lower lip starts to tremble. My heart twinges with sadness for him. Despite everything he’s done, Jason didn’t ask for any of this. Beneath it all, he’s just a scared kid who got dragged into a war he never had any intention of playing a part in. He’s made some mistakes, sure. But I won’t let him be killed for them. “He tried to kill you,” Spencer points out impassively. “And such a dire crime–attempted assassination of a resident of this palace–is easily punishable by death,” Captain McAndrews adds. “As our protocol dictates.” “Even if the attempted assassin is a child?” I ask, mouth agape. “We don’t usually make exceptions,” Spencer says coldly. I can feel myself starting to tremble. “You can’t seriously be considering this, Spencer. He’s your son!” Spencer remains silent, but I can feel his unspoken retort: no, he’s YOUR son!I feel as though I’m completely alone in this si
Ivy's POVI think I can feel my last breaths rattling in my chest. I don’t know how much longer I have left at all. I thought I’d be long gone by this point, if we’re being really honest. I feel like I’m mostly gone—my vision has gone completely, since I no longer have the energy to keep my eyes open, and I can barely breathe at all. My heartbeat feels like it could stop any moment. I’m aware of the pain wracking my body, that red-hot agony tearing me apart. It sizzles and simmers on my skin. It feels like it’s tearing me apart. But at the same time, I can’t feel anything at all. I know there are things I should be feeling. Grass beneath my body, maybe. The blood that’s seeped into the soil. The grime and metal residue on my skin from having been locked in that cage. I can picture all of these things, in a vague, spun-out way. I can remember what they'd be like. I can simulate the feeling. It’s not the same as actually experiencing it, though. ‘Please, Ivy, try to hold on,’ Venet
Spencer's POVI can feel Elder Jet watching me as the life slowly ebbs from my body, and I want to tear his eyes out. He’s smirking down at me, lips curled into a sickening grin. I grit my teeth as I look up at him. I think I could stand up if I wanted to, maybe land a couple weak blows, maybe draw a bit of blood, but what’s the point? I’d rather save my energy for when I know I’d at least have a fighting chance at getting something done. “Your army is failing,” Elder Jet says to me, crouching down by my side. “Or rather—you failed them, didn’t you? Because you weren’t strong enough, weren’t smart enough, weren’t able to do what needed to be done. I suppose losing Ivy rattled you even more than I would have anticipated, hm?” He chuckles, a bitter, rasping sound. “You can’t even begin to imagine how glorious it feels to get everything you ever wanted so perfectly laid out for you.”I’m still trying to reach out to my centurions, hoping to rally them and their troops to battle. But ag
Spencer's POVElder Jet’s cold laugh chills me to the bone. “My, my, Prince Spencer,” he says smugly. I can see him towering over me, can feel the droplets of my own blood pooling into the ground below me as the silver mist works its way into my skin. “I thought you’d at least be able to put up a better fight than that!” “A prince’s pride is often his own undoing,” comes the witch’s voice, prompting another wave of revulsion to come over me. “So I can’t say I’m particularly surprised.” I let out a ragged cough, droplets of blood splattering out this time. That can’t be good. My chest burns as small drops of silver continue to worm through my skin, and the sizzle of my flesh on fire combined with the iron tang in the back of my throat makes me want to puke. I want to speak, want to form words, but it feels like my vocal chords have been severed and drenched in lighter fluid. Reinforcements. We need reinforcements. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Gamma Everly, Alpha Leo, and
Spencer's POV“I really did try to warn you.” The witch’s words are nonchalant, spoken with a sigh as she tucks the silver spray back into one of the pockets of her dress. She watches Gamma Everly, Alpha Leo, and Wilson carefully as the silver spray begins to take effect. A shiver of revulsion runs through me as I realize what’s happening. Their pained, piercing screams fill the air as they all swat at their skin frantically, as though they’re being stung by a swarm of bees. Those little droplets of silver mist, innocuous and beautiful as they seem, appear to be burrowing into everyone’s skin. I can see little pinpricks of blood running down every inch of exposed flesh–even Gamma Everly, who’s encased almost head to toe in her heavy red armour, has blood on her face as she tries desperately to rub the spray off her face. The smell of overcooked meat fills the air, and my stomach turns. Small wisps of smoke are rising up from the site of everyone’s exposure. Gamma Everly, Alpha Leo,
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