Spencer's POVColin killed my father. The truth settles into me, chilling me to the bone. I’d suspected Colin had something to do with his death since the moment he made his way into the dining hall covered in his blood, but still, to be confronted with such stark evidence is jarring. I don’t know what the results of the tox panel will be. I don’t think I care what poison was used to kill my father–all I need to know is whether or not Colin has more of it, and if he intends to use it. If he was willing to kill my father just to secure his own ascension to the throne, I don’t think he’d hesitate to dispose of my mother, or Sylvia, or even myself. I’m grateful now more than ever for Delilah–if Colin goes after those he thinks are closest to me, she’ll be the one to take the fall, not Ivy. No matter what happens, Ivy and my unborn child will be safe. “Thank you for your service here, Doctor Danbury,” I manage to say to the doctor with a curt nod. “And remember–none of what you’ve di
Spencer's POVAs I make my way to the palace, I can feel the sheer force of my rage crackling in my chest. My whole life, I’ve known that it’s been my destiny to be the Lycan King. Because of this, my parents spent my whole life pushing me to my limits–throwing me into dangerous situations and forcing me to grow up far too soon all for the sake of being the perfect leader. They made me cold and calculating and emotionless. They cost me a childhood all because of who they wanted me to be. It took years of preparation for me to get to where I am today, but if there’s one thing I know for certain, it’s that I’m ready to be king. And Colin most definitely is not. I don’t think he’s a threat. When it comes down to it, I believe he’ll be easy enough to subdue. But I’m afraid of the damage he can wreak before I can get to him–all the harm he could do before he’s dead. I need to kill him. Not just to serve my own purposes and reclaim my place as the Lycan Crown Prince, but for the good o
Spencer's POVAs I stare at Colin, awaiting his response to my challenge, I shift into my wolf form. My teeth curl around my lips, and a low growl hums in my throat as I stare at him in anticipation. He looks terrified at the suggestion–he’s not as good as me, and he knows it. A duel to the death would surely end with his corpse laid out at my feet. Even if he was in good shape, he wouldn’t be able to beat me. And judging by the looks of him, even those few brief moments of strangulation dealt him a fair bit of damage. But Colin can’t just ignore my challenge. He has to acknowledge it, one way or another. I can see the guards wandering around the halls. They’re here to bear witness, as few of them as there are. They’re going to spread the news of my challenge one way or another. There are two options for him right now. Either Colin accepts my challenge now and dies honourably, a warrior’s death in the heat of battle, or he rejects my challenge. The entire palace finds out about hi
Spencer's POV“You can’t stop me!” I want the words to sound menacing as I glare my mother down, but no matter my intentions, I find myself sounding far more plaintive than I’d like to. Still, I set my jaw and continue to meet my mother’s gaze, narrowing my eyes at her. “I’ll kill him,” I growl at her. “One way or another, I’ll kill him. Whatever you’re trying to do right now, it won’t last. I’ll get to him eventually.” My words feel like they’re losing their weight, though, as the guards behind me continue to bring Colin to the dungeon. Colin catches my eye, and his expression isn’t one of smugness or gloating–he looks relieved by his escape from certain death. I scowl bitterly. He’s going to be down there now, locked in the very cells where just earlier today we incurred a prison break. We still haven’t had a chance to reevaluate the security system, so who knows what he could possibly get up to–Was this his plan all along? Kill my father, get sent to the dungeon, and then brea
Ivy's POV“He’s somewhere over here.” I look back at Delilah as I speak. As her lips are pursed, and her brow is furrowed. We’re wandering through an unfamiliar wing of the palace–I’ve never seen this area before, but as she looks back and forth, she seems more and more unnerved. It’s like she’s confirmed our destination in her mind, and she’s not all that happy about it. I don’t know where we’re going, but I can feel the strength of the mate bond Spencer and I share. It stretches between us like a rubber band. The farther apart we are, the more we yearn to snap back into one another the way we’re always supposed to be. “Are you sure about that?” Delilah asks me tentatively. She takes another look around the halls. “Why would Spencer be near Colin’s room? He hates–” Suddenly, Delilah’s face flushes, and she looks away. “Um. Never mind.” I raise an incredulous eyebrow at her. “Colin’s room is near here?” I repeat, glancing back and forth.We’re certainly in a wing of the palace mo
Spencer's POVBefore I can respond to Ivy’s question, my mother’s voice rings sharply through the air. “Don’t tell her anything!” She snaps. Ivy frowns, tilting her head in confusion. I can almost feel the gears in her mind whirring. Ivy is a smart girl–she’s certainly figured out by now that something unusual has happened in the palace. And I can tell that, after everything she’s been through, she has absolutely no interest in being kept out of the loop. I want to tell her what happened, for her own safety. My father was killed within these very walls–any member of the Lycan Royal Family, or anyone with proximity to us, could be the next target. “Go away, Mother,” I snap at her, rolling my eyes. “You’ve done enough damage here.”My mother huffs. “I’m trying to protect you, and this family! Which she certainly isn’t a part of.” I can see the irritation flashing in Ivy’s eyes, but she bites her tongue for now. “I’ll deal with this myself,” I say to my mother, dragging a hand down
Ivy's POVI can hardly believe I’m holding Spencer’s hand. It’s such a small thing to get emotional about–I’m carrying his child, for Moon Goddess’s sake. And yet, as our fingers remain twined together, I can feel my heart beginning to race ever so slightly. We’re holding hands. Things might be a mess between us right now, and I have no idea what our future is going to look like. But we’re holding hands. “You shouldn’t come with me, Ivy,” Spencer says softly. His gaze is still fixed on Delilah up ahead, but I can tell that I’m the one with his attention. “I don’t know what I’d be getting you mixed up in, and–I mean, the Lycan King is dead. The most powerful man in the kingdom. If he could be killed…” Spencer trails off, but I can hear the unspoken words lingering on the tip of his tongue. I could be killed, too. Me and his unborn child–both of us, gone in one fell swoop. Maybe it’s just wishful thinking, but my mind starts to whir. As upsetting as the Lycan King’s death was, ne
Ivy's POVOnce Delilah makes her way into the dungeon, Spencer and I have to wait several minutes in order to follow her without her noticing. “What do you think is happening between Delilah and Colin?” I ask. “I don’t know,” Spencer admits, shifting back and forth. “I… I heard them talking, awhile back. I think Colin was trying to talk her into starting an affair, but that’s just how he always is, I guess, trying to take away anything that belongs to me–” Suddenly, remembering the context of his words, Spencer realizes the impact of what he’s just said/. His piercing, endless gaze settles on me, waiting for my reaction. I cross my arms over my chest and raise an eyebrow at Spencer. I know what he’s referring to–the way Colin flirted with me back when Spencer and I were together. Sylvia filled me in on Colin’s behaviours and patterns. I know that Colin was just trying to rile Spencer up. “I don’t belong to you,” I tell Spencer. “And I never have. But you think Colin has been tryi
Spencer’s POVThe skin of Elder Jet’s throat splits like silk beneath my claws. The last sound he ever makes is a small gasp, as though even after everything he’s said about accepting his fate, he’s still somehow surprised that I’d actually do it. For just a few moments, blood gushes liberally from the ragged wound in his throat–his weak heart pumping out blood with its last bits of strength. But as soon as his heart gives out, the blood flow stops its torrent. I raise my gaze back up to Elder Jet’s face. I want to feel something as I look over him–the wounds marring his features, his matted, stained fur, the glassy lifelessness in his eyes–but I don’t feel a thing. I pull away from Elder Jet slowly, staring at his corpse splayed out on the grass. This is the man who tried to kill me. Who tried to kill Ivy. Who succeeded in killing my father. He’s twisted and manipulated the minds of countless young werewolves, many of whom are no doubt dead thanks to him. Every action in his miser
Spencer’s POVWhen I see Elder Jet pinned beneath Ivy’s strong hold, the first thing I feel is pride. Over the course of knowing her, I’ve seen Ivy reclaim her own strength and power against all odds. When no one else believed in her, she believed in herself, and she’s been able to accomplish amazing things because of it. The sight of her now, able to so easily control such a powerful and influential man despite having been teetering on the verge of death so long ago… I’m so proud of her. I stalk towards Ivy and Elder Jet with a bold grin. “Thank you for taking care of him, Ivy,” I say. “Would you like me to handle things from here?” “It would be my pleasure,” Ivy replies. She strikes him across the face–just once, swiftly and harshly enough to open up a rather sizeable welt on his upper right cheek. As Elder Jet is still reeling from the blow, Ivy releases her hold on him and allows me to take her place. Before Elder Jet can even register the switch, I’ve got him firmly in my gr
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