Ivy's POVWhen I wake up, the first thing that hits me is the taste in my mouth. It’s sweet and tacky, as though my mouth has been filled with liquid sugar. I smack my lips as I open my eyes slowly. I’m greeted by the sight of wrought iron bars over my head, and above that, a starry night sky. Details come to me in pieces. I let out a ragged cough, mouth salivating as my tongue attempts to scrub away the sweet taste. I remember fragments of memory—being kidnapped from the palace. Threats leveled against Jason. A cage. A conversation with Elder Jet. A sickly-sweet potion forced past my lips. And after that, absolutely nothing. I groan as I do my best to prop myself up onto my elbows. My vision is still somewhat blurred. Dimly, I hear the sound of clicking, then the scraping of metal. I reach my hand out towards the bars in a feeble attempt to pull myself back up to my feet. But just as my fingertips brush against the cool metal, ice-cold hands wrap around my forearm, and I suddenl
Spencer's POV“I can’t just surrender!” The words fall out of my mouth in a jumbled rush, a blur of desperation. I can’t surrender. I can't give up my kingdom, my throne, just like this. I’m a warrior, a king, the strongest Lycan, I can’t just—I would. For Ivy, I would. But there’s still no proof that the witch will kill Ivy just yet, and trading in the kingdom is such a drastic decision that I need to make sure I have absolutely no other option before I make the call. Plus, there are measures I want to have put in place in case it really does come to that, ways for Gamma Everly or Wilson or Sylvia to regain the kingdom even if I do need to call off my men right now. A surrender could be a temporary thing, a way to buy time and secure Ivy before we rush right back into battle. Or maybe if I surrender, Elder Jet and the witch will kill me anyways, knowing the devastating effect it will inevitably have because of our mate bond and the Blood Oath Ceremony. Either way, whether or no
Ivy's POV“Make your choice, Prince Spencer.”I can feel the witch’s words against my cheek as she speaks. They’re as sharp and frosty as a frozen-over holly bush. The glass against my lips is tasteless, but I can smell the tangy green liquid from the bottle, and my throat already feels rather like it’s about to burn. If I drink this potion, there’s absolutely no chance of survival for me. I’m nowhere near at full strength. I’ve been dazed by whatever I was given earlier and weakened from my battle in the dungeons. Not to mention, I’m pregnant. Besides, it killed the Lycan King. I’d be wiped out in an instant. So Spencer really does have to choose between my life—no, not just my life, the life of his child, too—and his kingdom. I can see the turmoil of the decision on his face, the devastation it’s causing him. This is all of his greatest fears coming to fruition. Everything he’s tried to protect me from all along. If he chooses to surrender for me, I know he won’t be happy. He’ll
Spencer's POV“Ivy!”The scream tears from my throat, a sound of sheer desperation as the last of the green poison disappears down Ivy’s throat. It feels like it’s all a dream, all a nightmare, all some sort of devilish hallucination forced upon me to bring me to my knees and show me all my worst fears but this isn’t just my own anxiety anymore, it’s real life. “Ivy, how could you?” I ask, blinking back furious tears. Every single one of my senses is on high alert, waiting for whatever disastrous consequences come next. “Couldn’t let you—” Ivy lets out a ragged, hacking cough, already doubling over in the witch’s arms. “Couldn’t let you surrender.” “I’m not surrendering!” I shout, balling my hands into fists. “I’ll tear you apart limb from limb, Elder Jet, I’ll kill your witch, your men, every last force you have in your reserves…”“Oh, pay him no mind,” the witch says dismissively. She lets go of Ivy, who immediately crumples to the ground in a disheveled heap. “I have no idea if
Ivy's POVAs the darkness overtakes me completely, the last thing I feel is Spencer’s arms wrapped around me. All at once, the excruciating pain—the burning in my throat, the blood in my mouth, the fire that feels like it’s emanating all throughout my body—fades away. It feels like I’m falling through the endless darkness. I’m convinced that my eyes are open by now, and that my tears have faded away, but I still can’t see anything. I can’t feel anything, either, and I feel myself begin to panic as soon as I realize that I can no longer feel Spencer’s arms wrapped tights around me. I can’t smell him, can’t sense the reassuring rhythm of his heartbeat. I’m left adrift in endless darkness, floating and falling and making my way to—To what?Is this death?Am I dead?I try to open my mouth to speak, but no sound comes out at all. The darkness spirals and twists, a dizzying expanse of absolutely nothing. I’m lost, completely untethered, without even my wolf to ground me. And then, all
Ivy's POV“How… how are you here?” The words tumble out of my mouth, a haze of confusion as I look up at him. Spencer doesn’t look like he did on the battlefield–instead, his clothes are neat and clean, hair prim, face clean-shaven. Instead of wild, pained eyes from having spent far too long on the battlefield, he looks at ease and more relaxed than I’ve been able to see him in a long time. Spencer looks down at me with a soft, gentle smile. Too often these days, the way he’s looked at me has been tainted with a million other emotions–anger, maybe, or frustration, or longing. But now he’s staring at me just like he used to, like the stars are in my eyes and I’m all he wants to see. Honestly, he seems happy just to see me at all. “I don’t know,” Spencer replies with a shrug. He extends a hand out to me. “I don’t think I care, really. What’s important is you.” He furrows his brow and looks me over carefully. “How are you… how are you feeling?” I place my hand in his. The feeling is
Spencer's POV“Could you love me in death, despite what I’ve done?”Despite everything that’s happened between us, those words still hit me like a punch to the gut. Could I love her in death? Moon Goddess above, how does she not get it? All my anger, my pain, my frustration, my fury, my devastation–I feel it so fiercely because I can’t stop loving her. I couldn't stop loving her if I tried. And I’m terrified to leave this place in our minds, this safe space where she’s alive and well and I can see her, because I know the moment I go she’ll be dead and I’ll have to face the world without her. I’m not ready for that. How am I supposed to do that? I move my hands from Ivy’s shoulders all the way down to her hands, finding comfort in the feel of her skin as I do. There’s a warmth to her. She radiates peace and calm and all that is good in the world. None of this is real, but it feels close enough to me. “Oh, Ivy,” I tell her softly, squeezing her hands. “Of course I could still lo
Ivy’s POVMy Alpha fiancé is having sex with my best friend, in my room, on the day I'm supposed to become his Luna.For just a moment, I stand frozen in the doorway, staring at them. My fiancé Erick is still mostly clothed, save for the dress pants bunched around his knees, and my best friend Veronica’s skirt is bunched up at the hip as he thrusts into her roughly from behind. Erick’s got one arm wrapped around her waist, and he holds her tight as he fucks her. Veronica’s eyes are squeezed shut in pleasure, and she’s clearly enjoying herself–Erick has to clamp a hand around her mouth just to keep her from moaning. And they’re fucking on my bed. Somehow that’s the biggest insult of them all. “What are you doing?” I shout, snapping out of my shock and bursting into the room. My wedding dress nearly trips me up, and my cheeks burn as I confront the pair. Erick laughs cruelly. He doesn’t even have the decency to pull out–his hips snap lazily, thrusting in and out of Veronica as she c
Spencer's POV“Could you love me in death, despite what I’ve done?”Despite everything that’s happened between us, those words still hit me like a punch to the gut. Could I love her in death? Moon Goddess above, how does she not get it? All my anger, my pain, my frustration, my fury, my devastation–I feel it so fiercely because I can’t stop loving her. I couldn't stop loving her if I tried. And I’m terrified to leave this place in our minds, this safe space where she’s alive and well and I can see her, because I know the moment I go she’ll be dead and I’ll have to face the world without her. I’m not ready for that. How am I supposed to do that? I move my hands from Ivy’s shoulders all the way down to her hands, finding comfort in the feel of her skin as I do. There’s a warmth to her. She radiates peace and calm and all that is good in the world. None of this is real, but it feels close enough to me. “Oh, Ivy,” I tell her softly, squeezing her hands. “Of course I could still lo
Ivy's POV“How… how are you here?” The words tumble out of my mouth, a haze of confusion as I look up at him. Spencer doesn’t look like he did on the battlefield–instead, his clothes are neat and clean, hair prim, face clean-shaven. Instead of wild, pained eyes from having spent far too long on the battlefield, he looks at ease and more relaxed than I’ve been able to see him in a long time. Spencer looks down at me with a soft, gentle smile. Too often these days, the way he’s looked at me has been tainted with a million other emotions–anger, maybe, or frustration, or longing. But now he’s staring at me just like he used to, like the stars are in my eyes and I’m all he wants to see. Honestly, he seems happy just to see me at all. “I don’t know,” Spencer replies with a shrug. He extends a hand out to me. “I don’t think I care, really. What’s important is you.” He furrows his brow and looks me over carefully. “How are you… how are you feeling?” I place my hand in his. The feeling is
Ivy's POVAs the darkness overtakes me completely, the last thing I feel is Spencer’s arms wrapped around me. All at once, the excruciating pain—the burning in my throat, the blood in my mouth, the fire that feels like it’s emanating all throughout my body—fades away. It feels like I’m falling through the endless darkness. I’m convinced that my eyes are open by now, and that my tears have faded away, but I still can’t see anything. I can’t feel anything, either, and I feel myself begin to panic as soon as I realize that I can no longer feel Spencer’s arms wrapped tights around me. I can’t smell him, can’t sense the reassuring rhythm of his heartbeat. I’m left adrift in endless darkness, floating and falling and making my way to—To what?Is this death?Am I dead?I try to open my mouth to speak, but no sound comes out at all. The darkness spirals and twists, a dizzying expanse of absolutely nothing. I’m lost, completely untethered, without even my wolf to ground me. And then, all
Spencer's POV“Ivy!”The scream tears from my throat, a sound of sheer desperation as the last of the green poison disappears down Ivy’s throat. It feels like it’s all a dream, all a nightmare, all some sort of devilish hallucination forced upon me to bring me to my knees and show me all my worst fears but this isn’t just my own anxiety anymore, it’s real life. “Ivy, how could you?” I ask, blinking back furious tears. Every single one of my senses is on high alert, waiting for whatever disastrous consequences come next. “Couldn’t let you—” Ivy lets out a ragged, hacking cough, already doubling over in the witch’s arms. “Couldn’t let you surrender.” “I’m not surrendering!” I shout, balling my hands into fists. “I’ll tear you apart limb from limb, Elder Jet, I’ll kill your witch, your men, every last force you have in your reserves…”“Oh, pay him no mind,” the witch says dismissively. She lets go of Ivy, who immediately crumples to the ground in a disheveled heap. “I have no idea if
Ivy's POV“Make your choice, Prince Spencer.”I can feel the witch’s words against my cheek as she speaks. They’re as sharp and frosty as a frozen-over holly bush. The glass against my lips is tasteless, but I can smell the tangy green liquid from the bottle, and my throat already feels rather like it’s about to burn. If I drink this potion, there’s absolutely no chance of survival for me. I’m nowhere near at full strength. I’ve been dazed by whatever I was given earlier and weakened from my battle in the dungeons. Not to mention, I’m pregnant. Besides, it killed the Lycan King. I’d be wiped out in an instant. So Spencer really does have to choose between my life—no, not just my life, the life of his child, too—and his kingdom. I can see the turmoil of the decision on his face, the devastation it’s causing him. This is all of his greatest fears coming to fruition. Everything he’s tried to protect me from all along. If he chooses to surrender for me, I know he won’t be happy. He’ll
Spencer's POV“I can’t just surrender!” The words fall out of my mouth in a jumbled rush, a blur of desperation. I can’t surrender. I can't give up my kingdom, my throne, just like this. I’m a warrior, a king, the strongest Lycan, I can’t just—I would. For Ivy, I would. But there’s still no proof that the witch will kill Ivy just yet, and trading in the kingdom is such a drastic decision that I need to make sure I have absolutely no other option before I make the call. Plus, there are measures I want to have put in place in case it really does come to that, ways for Gamma Everly or Wilson or Sylvia to regain the kingdom even if I do need to call off my men right now. A surrender could be a temporary thing, a way to buy time and secure Ivy before we rush right back into battle. Or maybe if I surrender, Elder Jet and the witch will kill me anyways, knowing the devastating effect it will inevitably have because of our mate bond and the Blood Oath Ceremony. Either way, whether or no
Ivy's POVWhen I wake up, the first thing that hits me is the taste in my mouth. It’s sweet and tacky, as though my mouth has been filled with liquid sugar. I smack my lips as I open my eyes slowly. I’m greeted by the sight of wrought iron bars over my head, and above that, a starry night sky. Details come to me in pieces. I let out a ragged cough, mouth salivating as my tongue attempts to scrub away the sweet taste. I remember fragments of memory—being kidnapped from the palace. Threats leveled against Jason. A cage. A conversation with Elder Jet. A sickly-sweet potion forced past my lips. And after that, absolutely nothing. I groan as I do my best to prop myself up onto my elbows. My vision is still somewhat blurred. Dimly, I hear the sound of clicking, then the scraping of metal. I reach my hand out towards the bars in a feeble attempt to pull myself back up to my feet. But just as my fingertips brush against the cool metal, ice-cold hands wrap around my forearm, and I suddenl
Spencer's POV“So imagine what I could do with the body parts of an unborn Lycan Prince.”The moment I hear these words pass the witch’s lips, my blood runs cold. Pure loathing runs through my veins. I ball my hands into fists and look up at the witch in pure disbelief, hardly able to comprehend what I’ve just heard. This woman—no, this monster, this demon, this blasphemous traitor to all that is good in the world—she’s not just threatening Ivy. She’s threatening my child. “You know…” I say slowly. “You know that she’s—““Pregnant, yes,” the witch confirms dismissively. “And I know the child is a boy. Lycan. Strong blood. Such an unborn infant would be incredibly useful to me. Although, you know, your poor darling mate unfortunately wouldn’t survive the process, and the child wouldn’t, either.”My breath becomes quicker and quicker, heart racing. I feel like the floor is crumbling beneath me. “You wouldn’t,” I say slowly. “You couldn’t—““Oh, but I could, Your Highness,” the witch
Spencer's POVWhen the door to the barracks swings open, it’s as though the world itself stands still. Elder Jet grins smugly as a tall woman steps out of the building. Her movements are fluid, graceful. She must be at least six feet tall. She’s as thin as a whip and looks like she’d cut just as deep. Her hips sway from side to side as she moves, and her body is clad from head to toe in a smoky gray dress that barely seems to be made of fabric at all—it looks like liquid smoke. It’s the veil that tells me who she is, though. Once she’s fully out of the barracks, she looks at Elder Jet for just a moment before swivelling around and looking at me. She tilts her head ever so slightly, and a shiver runs down my spine. Her face is covered by a dusky gray veil that looks like it’s been embroidered with dewdrops. The veil falls all the way to the ground both in front of her and behind. Above her head are a pair of antlers that are draped with chains and gnarled vines. She takes a single