Ivy's POVHow am I supposed to thank him?I have to admit, I’ve got absolutely no frame of reference for what an appropriate form of repayment would be. Maybe, if my life was anything like it was before, I’d know what to do. I’d make him a lavish meal, or give him a hug, or go on a walk with him. That’s what I used to do for my father anytime he did something nice for me. But this situation is entirely different from that.And the way Spencer is looking at me now–There’s a bareness to his gaze, an intensity. A hunger, maybe. A sense of possession. He wants something else entirely from me. So how should I repay him?“You know what I want, Ivy,” Prince Spencer says in a low, sultry voice that moves across my skin like silk. “Show me how clever you are.”“I–I–” I scowl in annoyance at my own tied tongue. I always seem to stutter around Spencer, to my immense frustration. There’s something about him, his power, his dominance. It always trips me up. I have no idea how I’m supposed to a
Spencer's POV‘Your Highness,’ Beta Wilson’s voice echoes in my mind, accepting my mind-link.I shuffle together some of the papers on my desk, looking them over absently. Reports from other packs, mindless paperwork I wish I didn’t have to deal with. ‘Have you found Alpha Kinney?’As Ivy had mentioned earlier, the merger of two packs is a significant event–especially if one pack is being so thoroughly absorbed as the Obsidian pack seems to have been. Everything I know about Ivy’s fall from grace only made the whole affair seem even more suspicious. And so, when I’d received Erick’s invitation, I’d immediately ordered Beta Wilson to investigate the Thunderclaw pack and its affairs. I knew everything there was to know before Ivy even rushed into my office earlier today.We still haven’t found any trace of Alpha Kinney, though. Silence stretches over the mind-link, and I get the feeling that Beta Wilson is doing one last desperate grab for information before reporting to me. I doubt he
Spencer's POV“Your Highness, Veronica wants to see you.”I look up in shock at Beta Wilson, who’s currently lingering in the doorway of my office, shifting his weight nervously from foot to foot. Why would Veronica want to see me? Considering everything that’s happened between her and Ivy, she should be utterly terrified of me. “Tell her I have no reason to see her,” I commanded. I already know what I need to know from Ivy–there’s no need for me to meet Veronica right now. Moreover, if Erick discovered I was meeting with her, he might realize I know about his crimes.Plus, knowing what Veronica has done to Ivy, I don’t think I could trust myself to be civil with her. Beta Wilson nods respectfully, then turns on his heel and leaves my office. I follow him down the hallway to his room, where–as we’d arranged–the Thunderclaw warrior has been imprisoned.We managed the whole situation discreetly, of course, taking him captive late last night under the cover of darkness so Alpha Erick
Ivy's POVI’m already a bundle of nerves by the time Spencer walks out of the room, expression grim.“How did it go?” I ask urgently, wringing my hands. “Did he say anything? Do we know where Kinney is?”Spencer nods once.“Where’s Beta Kinney?” I press. “That’s confidential information for now,” Spencer replied calmly, seemingly unfazed by my panicked frenzy. He gestures towards Beta Wilson. “My Beta will find him.”I huff in frustration, but faced with his infuriating calmness, I have no idea how to voice my feelings. This isn’t just about revenge, or finding Beta Kinney–it’s about the very survival of the Obsidian pack, of my father’s legacy. If we can find Beta Kinney, we have at least some chance of saving my former pack from being absorbed. “Don’t worry,” Spencer reassures me as though he’s read my mind. “You’ll be able to see him as soon as we find him.”“Can I come with you on the mission?” I ask, concerned.Spencer blinks, and it takes me a moment to realize I’ve caught him
Ivy's POVThe tunnel underneath the floorboards is darker than anything I’ve ever known. I follow Spencer and Beta Wilson down the stairs, keeping one hand against the wall so I don’t lose track of where I am. The stairs are steep, and the stone they’re made of is crudely carved and rough. We spend maybe fifteen minutes descending in dreary silence, until suddenly Beta Wilson and Spencer stop. I hear the faint noise of something being pried from the wall, then the soft click of a lighter, and suddenly, the world is illuminated in orange torchlight. “Oh!” I gasp, looking around in shock. We’re in a small cave with water-worn walls carved from black stone. The ground is damp, small streams of water running across the rock, and multiple tunnels seem to be branching off this main circular room. Only one of the tunnels has additional unlit torches lining its walls, though. “This way,” Beta Wilson says. Even though his voice is nothing but a hushed whisper, the cave seems to pick up on
Ivy's POVEven though the cave’s dim lighting prevents me from being able to see who it is, I can recognize the voice instantly. Erick.I grit my teeth, glaring into the mouth of the tunnel as the bastard approaches. White hot rage courses through my veins. I’ll never forget the voice of that demon. He’ll be burned into my psyche for the rest of my life. Spencer and Beta Wilson exchange a quick glance, an evident understanding passing between them. He won’t be escaping this cave tonight. They move towards Erick as one. As they move, though, Erick seems to recognize Spencer. His eyes widen in fear. He quickly backs up, then spins around and starts sprinting back out of the tunnel.Coward that he is. I hold my breath, heart racing furiously. I want Erick dead and gone with more passion than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life. I want to tear him limb from limb, watch the blood spill out. I want him to feel every bit of the pain I’ve felt. “Get him!” I cry out desperately, the sound
Ivy's POV“You mean what I think you mean, right?” As I ask the question, my gaze flips back up to Spencer hesitantly, and for a split-second I’m unsure if I’ve interpreted his words correctly. I look at Erick, curled up in a ball on the ground, and then back up at Spencer. He nods, and I take that as confirmation. Spencer is giving me the authority to deal with Erick as I see fit. I can do anything I want to him. I hadn’t expected Spencer to give me such power. After all, Erick is an Alpha, and killing an Alpha is a much greater crime than merging two packs–even illegally. Technically speaking, I shouldn’t even be near him right now. But Spencer is willing to give me that power anyways.And I have no intention of wasting any of it. My mind flashes with all the possibilities. I can almost feel it now–the smell of Erick’s blood, the rip of his flesh tearing, the way his screams would echo around the tunnels…I’m not normally a violent person. But betrayal has a way of changing y
Ivy's POVOn my own, there’s no way I’d ever be able to kill Erick.But with Spencer’s incredible strength backing me up, anything is possible. As I continue to dig my fingernails into Erick’s skin, small beads of blood welling up, Spencer releases his Lycan Aura. Erick starts to whimper and tremble, too terrified to resist. He’s nothing but a toy in my hands now.I stand up and take a step away from him, looking down. He’s pitiful. I draw my legs back and, with a swift kick, drive my heel into Erick’s side. He yelps in pain, wincing and curling into an even tighter ball. “Do you remember my father, Erick?” I ask, my voice as cold as the lake water in the cave. “Do you remember how you killed him? I think his spirit is watching all of this now.”“No, Ivy, please! I was wrong.” Erick sobs desperately, his useless pleas echoing around the caves. He tries to crawl backward on his knees away from me, but it’s no use. He can’t escape me. “I still love you, Ivy. Forgive me.”His words was
Ivy’s POVThe sensation of Elder Jet’s skin tearing beneath my claws is one of the best things I’ve felt in a long, long time. Elder Jet lets out a sharp cry of pain as my claws rip into him. I can feel hot splashes of blood splattering up onto me, and I only curl my talons deeper. Elder Jet’s cry bleeds into a shout as I rip my paw back, tearing a ragged hunk of flesh out of his shoulder. “You,” Elder Jet snarls, looking up at me with an expression of profound loathing as he curls his lip at me and takes a step back. “Me,” I repeat with a smug grin, shaking the bits of viscera out of my claws. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Gamma Everly doing her best to limp away. Elder Jet doesn’t pay her any mind, though. His gaze is focused on me like a laser, and I can tell I’m his only focus right now. “You should be dead right now,” Elder Jet stammers out. His speech is already starting to slur from the blood loss. “After that potion we gave you, after the injuries, after–I killed
Ivy’s POVThe moment Spencer gets tossed back into the throes of battle, I know the final wave of combat has begun. I don’t waste a moment before shifting into my wolf form. I can feel the familiar surge of power rushing through my body. Every flex of my muscles, every arch and twist of my graceful limbs seems to be crackling with barely-restrained strength. My fur is as white as pure snow right now, but I know it’s only a matter of time before it becomes stained pomegranate red. My razor-sharp fangs, sharp as knives, are bared menacingly as I look around expectantly and grin. “None of you could kill me!” I shout, muzzle turned upwards towards the sky. I let out a victorious howl. “No matter how hard you try, you can’t stop me!” I pad back and forth, feeling the clots of dirt beneath my paws. Out of the corner of my eye, I can spot the wrought-iron cage that was used to hold me. I lunge towards it, a growl rumbling in the base of my throat, and twist its metal bars until the cage i
Spencer’s POVAs I rise to my feet, I can feel the full effects of the Moon Goddess’s blessing, and I feel much better than I’ve felt in a long time. It’s odd–ever since this whole fiasco with Elder Jet began, I’ve felt myself constantly on edge. There's been a strange underlying tension to my life. Everything I’ve done in my mad scramble to protect Ivy, every bad decision, every misguided sacrifice I’ve done… All my actions, whether they were right or now, were the result of trying to dodge invisible looming threats. The threat isn’t invisible anymore, though–now, it’s everywhere I look. But there’s a sense of relief to that. I can tell that Elder Jet is finally giving his all now. He’s played every last card he has left to play. And as scary as that may be, considering the magnitude of the threat I’m up against now, I can also feel my resolve building. This is it. The end of the line. The final surge. If we can defeat Elder Jet now, we’ll never have to deal with him or any of h
Spencer’s POVThe battlefield is erupting into chaos all around me, but right now, all I can think about is how beautiful Ivy is. Thanks to the Moon Goddess’s blessing, she seems to be glowing now. There’s a light in her eyes, a fire that’s been ignited deep in her soul. I can sense the strength radiating through her. All her glory, all her grace, all her willingness to fight…I know what Ivy is capable of now, and I’m never going to underestimate her again. “How do we want to do this?” Ivy asks. Her gaze continues to dart around the battlefield frantically, and I can tell that she’s sizing everything up, trying to figure out the best way for our forces to win. I feel an odd sensation of pride, knowing that Ivy is now able to navigate this scene with tact and poise. I trust her instincts. I purse my lips, watching yet another one of my Lycan warriors get picked out by the group of potion-enhanced werewolf rebels. He puts up a fierce fight, but it’s too many opponents for him to fe
Ivy’s POVAs the last beautiful sliver of that eerie red moon vanishes behind the clouds, I suddenly become aware of the eerie silence that’s overtaken the entire battlefield. I look around slowly and am shocked by the sight before me. My lips are still tingling with warmth from the feeling of Spencer’s kiss, but my focus has shifted to the unsettling quiet of the battlefield. Everywhere I look, the combat has seemed to cease. Lycan warriors and rebels alike have gone still, gazes all fixed upon the sky with expressions of profound shock and wonderment. I can understand the sentiment–the blood red moon has been a wonderful thing to behold indeed. But enough to stop an entire battle? I squeeze Spencer’s hand to get his attention. “They’ve all stopped fighting,” I murmur to him. “What’s going on?” “I don’t know,” he replies. Spencer seems every bit as puzzled as I am, gaze flitting around the battlefield restlessly. I follow his focus, though it’s hard for me to dwell on the sight
Spencer’s POV“Spencer, wake up!” When I hear Ivy’s sweet, beautiful, familiar voice coming from above me, I can feel my heart swell with joy. My eyes snap open. Upon seeing Ivy, her hand gentle on my face, tears begin to well up in the corners of my eyes. I can see her starting to cry, too, face breaking out into a wide smile as she gazes at me with so much love it feels overpowering. “You’re okay,” she says softly, brushing her thumb against my skin. I nod slowly, placing my hand over hers and pressing her even further against me. “You’re okay,” I reply, looking up at her in disbelief. Illuminated by the bright red moonlight, she looks almost otherworldly. She should seem like a mess–her clothes are matted with blood and dirt, her hair is a disaster, and her eyes have this shattered, distant look to them. I can see what this battle has done to Ivy, the profound effects it’s had on her. But seeing her like this, awake, alive… She looks like the single most beautiful being in t
Ivy’s POVWhen the first rush of air fills my lungs, it feels like a lifeline tearing me away from some cold, terrible place. There’s a strange urgency to the feeling–that first breath is almost gentle, a soft gust of wind, the tender brush of a familiar hand against a flushed cheek. But the next breath that comes is a desperate, coughing, almost choking thing as my lungs do their best to remember how to take in air. The breath after that is even more ragged, and I can feel my chest heaving over and over again as I go through the motions of taking in air and expelling it even more rapidly. How is this possible? I should be dead. I died. My eyes are still shut tight firmly, but I can feel fresh tears pooling from the corners. At first I assume they’re tears of pain–after all, throughout this whole ordeal, the dreadful pain that’s torn my body apart, I’ve become quite used to tears of pain. But it’s only as I think about pain that I realize I’m not hurting at all. It’s strange, t
Spencer’s POVThe gentle glow of red moonlight on my skin feels heavenly. I find myself letting out a quiet gasp as the soft rays wash over me. It shouldn’t be such a comforting sight to behold–after all, the moonbeams spilling from the sky like tears are a dark, vicious, fresh-from-the vein shade of blood red. After all the blood I’ve seen and smelled and tasted in this life, more blood should be just about the last thing I want to see. But something about this is different. Almost against my will, my eyes fall shut, suddenly too heavy to keep open for even a moment longer. My muscles fall limp, my body slack on the grass. As wicked as the red glow should be, I feel soothed. Put at ease. Like the universe is finally letting me rest. “What… what is this…” I murmur softly, the words drifting out on the cold night air. All around me, I can hear snippets of noise making their way in and out of my perception. More gasps of shock, of awe, of horror. The moon above is a deep blood red,
Spencer’s POV“I love you, I love you, I love you, please tell me you know just how much I love you—“I’m sprawled out on the ground, a wreck of a man. My body trembles hopelessly, shaking and shivering at the slightest breeze rippling across my skin. I feel cold—colder than I’ve ever felt in my life, the sort of all-encompassing cold that you feel in your chest and in your skin, the kind that feels like it’s stealing away right down to the bone. The cold is going to take me. It’s going to take over every last part of me. I’ve got one arm sprawled over Ivy, pulling her as close to me as she could ever hope to get anymore. I can feel her blood pooling through the already-bloodied fabric of my sleeve. She’s not actively bleeding anymore—that stopped when her heart gave out. But there’s so much blood left anyways. She’s dead. Ivy is dead, and that thought will haunt me all the way into my final moments, until I’m dead too. There’s something comforting about this, though. Knowing she’