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 POV“Warrior Lance!” I growl at the disgraced warrior, baring my teeth at him. I want to tear him limb from limb. I want to watch his blood splatter across the marble floors. I want to break his bones one by one for what he did to my sweet, innocent son, for the wicked thoughts he had the audacity to plant in his mind–Lance bares his teeth right back at me, but as Spencer continues to keep him in the chokehold, I can tell that he knows he’s been defeated. I wonder for a moment why he revealed himself to us–after all, he could have tried to escape capture. But I suppose it makes sense, considering he just tried to kill Jason, that Lance is trying to tie up his loose ends right now.After all, Jason was just about to reveal how Lance had corrupted his mind. “You should have eaten every last bite of the wolfsbane, you royal leather bootlicking bitch!” Lance sneers at me, thrashing against Spencer’s firm grip. His voice is raspy and full of anger, completely unlike the polite,
Ivy's POV“Jason is the illegitimate son of an Alpha and a witch.” At Lance’s words, I feel my blood run cold. Still holding Jason’s chains tight, Captain McAndrews lets out an audible gasp, raising his gaze to the heavens. “Moon Goddess spares his soul,” Captain McAndrews murmurs. Held firm in Spencer’s tight grasp, Lance starts to chuckle, a cruel smile warping and distorting his once-amicable features. “I thought the witches were long gone, vanished decades ago,” I tell Spencer in surprise, meeting his gaze. Spencer shrugs, expression impassive. “So did we. But with the evidence of those red potions Elder Jet has been using this whole time, as well as his extensive poison knowledge…” he trails off. “I’m afraid it’s very possible that the witches–or at least one witch–is still present today.” A shiver runs down my spine. Witches are the stuff of fairy tales–wretched hags who creep and lurk in the shadows, twisted godless women with strange rituals and practices. Witches are th
Ivy's POV“Ivy, what are we going to do about him?” Spencer’s brow is furrowed uncertainly. I can tell that he’s already made up a decision in his mind, and I doubt that it’s one I’d agree with. Spencer is, after all, a brutally cold and practical man. The only reason he hasn’t made an official decision right now is because he’s doing me the courtesy of letting me voice my opinion first. I don’t know exactly where I stand right now, but I know that Jason doesn’t deserve any of what happened to him. After all, this entire ordeal–members of the Werewolf Council, and specifically Elder Jet, wanting to wage war against the Lycan Royal Family–only really began because in killing Erick, I gave Elder Jet the leverage he needed to build this entire attack from the ground up. While these conflicts have existed for far longer than I’ve been in the Lycan Royal Family’s sphere, they’ve only really taken shape since I entered the picture. What happened to Jason is, ultimately, my fault. And w
Ivy's POV“He tried to kill you, Ivy.” Spencer seems exasperated by the conversation. He’s shifting back and forth, and keeps shooting angry glares at both Lance and Jason. I can tell that he’d much rather be out of here by now. “But he wouldn’t have tried to kill me without outside influence!” I protest, looking at Jason. “That was all Lance’s doing.” “He hated you plenty before I showed up,” Lance chimes in. “All I did was give him a plan. He was more than willing to participate!” I raise an eyebrow at Jason. “Is that true?” “I–I–” Jason’s face flushes a deep, frustrated red, and his lower lip starts to tremble. “I don’t know! My mother just died and the war was the Lycan Royal Family’s fault and everything was a mess! What was I supposed to think?” I breathe out a slow sigh, then purse my lips, thinking intently. I want to make sure Jason is provided with all the opportunities in the world to change and learn and grow as a person. Now that everything has been revealed, now t
Spencer's POVAs Ivy continues to argue on Jason’s behalf, all I can think about is how beautiful she is. Whenever she’s passionate about something, there’s this glow she gets about her. It’s a brilliant spark in her eyes, maybe, a twist of her lips and a set of her jaw. It makes her stronger. She seems sure of herself. Her sheer, overwhelming force of emotion–it sets her ablaze. It’s like she becomes the center of the universe. She becomes the center of my universe, anyways. “How are we going to keep you safe, if we don’t put Jason in prison?” I ask. When I first found out Jason had tried to have Ivy’s food poisoned, I nearly tore the little brat apart where he stood. I’ll have my revenge with Lance and that crooked chef, at least. But the idea of anyone trying to hurt Ivy–especially within the walls of this palace, where she’s supposed to be her safest–makes my blood boil. “Your Highness, you can’t actually be considering letting the boy’s actions here go unpunished–” Captain M
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