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 POVWhen I wake up the next morning, I find myself curled up on a sofa in Spencer’s room. The sunlight creeps through the windows and reaches my eyelids in thin slivers of gold. I groan, cracking my eyes open and looking around slowly. For a split second, I don’t remember any of what happened the night before.But then it hits me, all at once, and I have no idea how to feel about any of it. Tomorrow is another day, right? I think to myself with a wry smile.Strangely, though, this is the first time it’s ever felt true. I look down at my hands. They’ve been cleaned, but there’s still blood caked under my fingernails. Erick is dead. And I killed him. ‘It’s all over. Start a new life, Ivy.’ Spencer’s words ricochet through my mind, and an indescribable feeling fills my heart. I could start a new life–I have that chance now, and all because of him. It’s not just gratitude. Some words, the moment you hear them, you know you’ll never forget.I find myself glancing towards Spenc
Ivy's POV“It’s you!” Veronica turns to me with a fierce ferocity, face twisted with rage. She looks angrier than I’ve ever seen her–the sort of anger that burns right down to your core. Like she could kill me. Like she could tear me limb from limb. She bares her teeth at me, and there’s something feral and wild in her eyes. “It’s you!” She repeats furiously. “You’re the one who slandered my father and I to His Highness! You’re the reason this is all happening to me!”Veronica lunges towards me, claws out, but before I can even blink in surprise, Beta Wilson has her pinned tight. Her arms are twisted behind her back so tightly that even the slightest movement must be excruciatingly painful, and even still, she thrashes. “Is your whole life a lie?” I ask quietly, looking at Veronica with pity, not anger. Much to my surprise, I don’t think I can be angry at her anymore.She’s too miserable for that. “First you seduced my fiance, and now you’re trying to seduce Prince Spencer?” I co
Ivy's POVAccording to Werewolf Law, Alpha Erick should be judged by the Werewolf Council.Beta Wilson’s words echo through my mind, the reminder he’d given Spencer last night in the cave. And yet, despite that warning, Spencer had allowed me to do as I wished. Of course, I’d chosen to avenge my father and kill Erick. I feel no regret about that decision even now. But still, feeling the impending trouble this is bound to cause for Spencer, I can’t help but feel anxious. As we’re chauffeured back to the castle, I can’t help but feel uncomfortable in the car next to Spencer. There’s this strange tension to him, and if I didn’t know better, I think I’d mistake it for nervousness. He shouldn’t have to go through any of this. I’m the one who killed Erick, after all. Spencer only respected my decision. If the Werewolf Council or the Lycan King seeks retribution, I’m the true culprit. I look over at him, admiring his silhouette in the car window. I want to reach out, to say something. I’m
Spencer's POVWhen I see my father, he’s clearly not happy.“Father,” I say respectfully.My father, King Damien, frowns at me. His expression is grim and clearly displeased. “I have received word that Alpha Erick of the Thunderclaw pack was executed without authorization–and by my own son, no less. Is this true?”“Yes, Father,” I admit straightforwardly.My father heaves a sigh. “Why, Spencer? Why did you have to execute him when you could’ve simply handed him over to the Werewolf Council for trial?” “His execution was justified.” My voice is calm, measured. “He kidnapped Alpha Kinney, cut off his leg, and tried to take over the Obsidian pack. He needed to be disposed of as soon as possible.”Truth be told, I didn’t necessarily have to kill Erick. I did have some amount of personal stake in the matter, though, thanks to Ivy. If I hadn’t known about her experience, I might have chosen to hand Erick over to the Werewolf Council after all. But I know Ivy now, and I know how determined
Ivy's POVWhen I get to the dining hall the next day, the first thing I do is rush towards Beta Wilson. “Where did Prince Spencer go?” I demand. Beta Wilson frowns, looking away. “He’s gone to meet with the Werewolf Council.”My heart plummets, pure dread settling over me as I slowly begin to truly understand what’s happening. I’ve never had to deal with the Werewolf Council in person, thank goodness, but the things I’ve heard about them have been incredibly harsh. Rumour has it that the Council Elders are extremely rigid and strict, over-scrutinizing any behavior that doesn’t adhere to their rules. Every werewolf pack–and every Alpha–fears their rule. In a situation like the one I’ve landed us in, no doubt their reaction will be severe. “Is Spencer in danger?” I ask Beta Wilson. Beta Wilson hesitates. “The situation is… complicated.”“Complicated,” I repeat bluntly, unease welling up in the pit of my stomach. “Define complicated.”“I’m really not supposed to say–”“I’m Spencer’s
Ivy's POVA girl in an elegant dress storms towards Beta Wilson and I. I tilt my head, examining her carefully. I don’t recognize her, but there’s something extraordinarily familiar about her. Her features are delicate and beautiful, her golden hair shining brightly in the early morning sunlight. Her eyes are hazel, impossibly striking. She’s frowning at us, skewering Beta Wilson with a glare, but instead of looking unpleasantly angry, she looks adorably charming.Under her scrutinizing gaze, Beta Wilson’s expression suddenly becomes awkward. “Princess Sylvia,” he says respectfully, averting his attention. All at once, I realize what’s so familiar about her.She looks like Spencer.But Princess Sylvia ignores Beta Wilson entirely. Her eyes fall on his hand, which is still wrapped around my arm to stop me from going to the Lycan King’s office. The moment Beta Wilson notices Sylvia looking at his hand around me, he lets go as if he’s been electrocuted. “Who are you?” Princess Sylvia
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’