Ivy's POV“My child.” The words slip past my lips softly, gently, like a warm caress. The image on the ultrasound blurs and twists with static, but I can see the figure lurking within, a tiny infant curled up. I fight the urge to touch my stomach, to feel my baby for myself. “Do we know if it’s a boy or a girl yet?” I ask excitedly, heart leaping. My child. My baby. My daughter, maybe, or my son. No matter what, I’ll love them completely and unconditionally, this beautiful and perfect unblemished thing. I’ll protect them from all the evil this world has to offer. The nurse shakes her head. “Not for another couple months, at least,” she replies. “That's around eighteen to twenty weeks. You’re still in your first trimester! All I’m looking for right now is any indicator of damage to the fetus, but at this point…” The nurse’s brow furrows in concentration as she continues to run the ultrasound wand along my stomach. “The baby looks perfectly healthy. Nothing to worry about. How are
Ivy's POVAs I leave the hospital to make my way to the palace, I find myself thinking about Spencer’s request to me in the dungeon.While walking, my hands are clasped over my stomach. I haven’t begun to show, not even a little, but the image I saw on that ultrasound flashes through my mind every time I close my eyes. When Spencer asked me to talk to Jason about the prison break, he didn't want me to do that out of a lack of distrust for Jason. He wanted me to speak with the boy so he could do whatever he needed to do to make this palace–as well as this kingdom–a safer place. And I think I understand that now. I breathe out a heavy sigh as I step into the palace’s foyer, taking a look around the empty corridors. After witnessing the aftermath of that prison break, I can’t help but picture villains lurking behind every pillar and curtain. I don’t want my future child to have to grow up worrying about attackers lying eagerly in wait. Even now I can imagine my child running joyfully
Spencer's POVAs I stare down at Delilah, all I can feel is annoyance at her presence. I can tell she’s trying to elicit some sort of sympathetic reaction from me. Her lower lip is trembling like a leaf in the wind, and her electric eyes are positively drowning in not-quite-shed tears. She really does feel entitled to a response, I realize–Delilah actually thinks she has some sort of right to know about the things I have to deal with in this palace. Ivy has spent so long trying to tell me that I’m not the heartless monster everyone thinks I am, but whenever I look at Delilah, I wonder if everyone has been right all along. “There was a bit of a situation with the prisoners,” I tell Delilah dismissively, already starting to walk past her. “Nothing major, though, and it’s all been dealt with now.” If you could call housing the enemy comfortably in my palace as ‘dealing with it,’ I suppose. But what Alpha Leo and Gamma Everly have going on seems to be a special case. And a content Alp
Spencer's POVAs I knock on the door to my father’s office, I find myself rehearsing what I’m going to say.Obviously, there are some details I can’t skip over. Captain McAndrews will have given my father a briefing to the full extent of his knowledge–there’s no skipping over the fact that the prison break happened, which also means I can’t dodge the fact that Alpha Leo was only alive in the dungeon because Ivy wanted him to be. Which isn’t the best look. And the investigation will be difficult to handle, too. I’ve lost my lead with Ivy and Jason, and I received word only moments ago that the cook who tried to slip the wolfsbane into Ivy’s food in the dining hall was killed during his attempted escape from the dungeon. The only sources we have in captivity right now are Lance Silvers and Alpha Leo. I believe we can get through to Alpha Leo, but I also believe that it will take quite a long time to undo all the damage that Elder Jet has done to him. That means my only standing lead
Spencer's POV“How are you going to deal with him?” At my father’s pointed question, I breathe out a small sigh. I was hoping he wouldn’t ask that–that he’d be content to trust me with the task of managing Alpha Leo without getting involved. But I suppose it was a naive hope. After all, considering the circumstances of the prison break, I don’t think my father has that much trust in me. “I’ve got everything under control,” I assure him. Perhaps the correct route would be to blend the lie with a bit of truth. “He’s under Gamma Everly’s supervision now…” “Yes, but what are you doing with him?” My father presses. I grit my teeth. I can’t lie and tell him that Alpha Leo is just locked up in the dungeon as usual–it would take one mind link to a prison guard to reveal the truth. “I’m taking care of it,” I say firmly. My father narrows his eyes at me. I can see the warning embers of anger sparking in his hawklike gaze. “Spencer,” he says slowly, his voice a thunderous warning rumble,
Ivy's POVI can feel my heart in my throat as I make my way to Jason’s bedroom. I feel wracked with guilt as I approach–poor Jason has had so many of his secrets spilled and exploited already. I don’t want to be just another adult who’s let him down. But then again, some things are bigger than just the two of us. The guards give me a quick once-over, but they know who I am, and have no place questioning my business here. I knock on the door to Jason’s bedroom and stand by restlessly, waiting for it to swing open. I can hear rustling on the other side of the door, a shuffling of materials, then small footsteps, before the door creaks open. Jason is standing in the doorway, hands folded behind his back. When he sees me, his eyes widen in fear. He looks away quickly. “Um, hey,” he says quietly. The fear on his face makes my heart feel like it’s shattering. “Hello, Jason,” I say with a gentle smile. I won’t let my devastation show. I have to seem strong for him. “Can I come in?” J
Spencer's POVI’m fuming as I make my way out of my father’s office. What could Colin possibly have to talk to my father about? All he’s done since he returned from boarding school has been pissing around and making my life a living hell. He has no obligation, no purpose, no sense of responsibility. He’s an arrogant waste of space who loves making things worse. And yet what my father said about my having gone soft, about having me replaced… No. He wouldn’t. And by Colin, of all people? Colin shoots me a smug smile as he closes the door behind him, barring me from the office. I grit my teeth, staring at the wood grain of the door angrily. That bastard. What am I going to do about this? It can’t stand, I need to find some sort of solution, some other way to get Colin out of the palace again so I don’t have to deal with him. I walk away from the office, feeling like I’m burning up with fury. It’s only once I’m headed to my bedroom that I realize just how famished I am. I haven’t
Spencer's POV“Father is dead.” All at once, everything else seems to fade away. Dimly, I can hear Sylvia gasping, and she leans backward heavily in her seat as she buries her face in her hands. Soon, the sound of her crying fills the air. It sounds far away, though, dimmed by static like I’m underwater. Father is dead. The Lycan King. My father–my father who I spoke to not even an hour ago, the man whose last words to me were telling me to leave, telling me what a disappointment I’ve been to him my whole life–He’s dead. My father is dead. How am I supposed to feel about this? I want to feel something. I do feel something, I think, a faint tug of sadness pulling at my gut. But he was awful to me–he was awful to all of us. Sylvia and I were just discussing it. We have no shortage of anecdotes when it comes to his abuse. He’s never been much of a father to me–I was raised by nannies and, later on, by the battlefield. I don’t have much of a father to mourn. Colin sits down heavily
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