Ivy's POVEven though I’d never even imagined becoming Spencer’s Luna, the Lycan Queen’s rejection still stings. Only since my father’s death have I truly realized just how much malice exists in the world. Once, I’d been my father’s pride and joy, the crown jewel of my pack–cherished and pampered and adored from such a young age. But now, there’s no one on my side. I have to face these challenges alone. The maid’s whip lands on the already-bleeding wounds, causing me to gasp sharply again. Thinking about Spencer makes me feel a bit better, though. Even just imagining him is something of a comfort. I fight the urge to scream at the queen. I won’t give her the satisfaction. “I never thought I could… become Spencer’s Luna…” The gaps between my words are interspersed with sharp hisses. “But I am his mate. The choice of who his Luna is should be made by Spencer himself…”The queen narrows her eyes at me in anger, and I feel proud of my small rebellion. No doubt she had hoped to see m
Ivy's POV“You won’t kill her, Mother.”Spencer’s defiant command rattles around the hall, causing the queen’s face to tighten with rage. How many more orders can he defy for me? My gaze shifts nervously towards the maids and their whips, wounds aching even more at the sight of them. I know the maids won’t dare attack me with Spencer in the room, but if somehow he ends up leaving… I shiver and try to tear my thoughts away from worst-case scenarios, returning my focus to the Lycan Queen. “You are being insubordinate, Spencer!” She shouts. “Although you may be my son and the Crown Prince, you have no right to disobey me over and over again. She will die today.”I tremble in Spencer’s arms, but he still looks completely unfazed. “We’ve sworn a Blood Oath together,” Spencer says calmly. A Blood Oath. What is that? Spencer’s voice may not be raised, but it crackles through the hall like a thunderclap, causing the queen to shrink back into her chair in shock. A pair of maids step fo
Ivy's POVThe room is empty except for Spencer and I.Spencer lays me down gently on his bed and starts to remove my hospital gown. I find myself blushing, body heating up. “Wait,” I say suddenly. I know we’ve been… intimate before. And considering the deep wounds biting into my back, I’m sure he’s only trying to see how I’m doing. And yet, I still find myself embarrassed about undressing in front of him. My gaze drops to the bottle of ointment in his hand. He’s only trying to heal me. “Just apply the medicine, please,” I say shyly. “You don’t… you don’t have to…” I trail off, not quite sure how to finish the sentence. Spencer raises an eyebrow. “No saliva this time?” He asks, clearly picking up where I left off. My face flushes. “Yeah,” I reply, nodding slightly. “As you wish.” Spencer’s voice is gentlemanly, but his smirk says otherwise. I lay down on my stomach as he gingerly peels away the thin fabric. The cold air feels good against my injuries. Soothing, almost. When hi
Ivy's POVA pack rebellion is a serious matter. Let alone two. I pull away from Spencer abruptly, sitting up straight on his bed and pulling my hospital gown back on. “I can take care of my injuries myself,” I insist quickly. “Go take care of everything you need to handle.” Spencer hesitates for a moment before nodding. My determination is, after all, impossible to ignore, and I refuse to get in the way of his role as Prince any more than I already have. He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, clearly sending a mind link. Moments later, a pair of maids bustle into the room, first aid supplies in hand. My heart freezes upon seeing the maids, already wondering what they’re planning on doing to me. I’ve had too many bad experiences with the maids of this palace. Noticing my worry, Spencer quickly glares at them. “If either of you do her any harm, I’ll have you both executed the moment I get back,” he growls at them. The maids’ eyes widen quickly. “Yes, Your Highness,” one of them
Ivy's POVI’ve never seen such a valiant she-wolf in my life. I can’t stop looking at her. Can’t tear my gaze away. Dressed in polished, shining red armor, she looks like the perfect picture of a blazing fire–brilliant and striking. Her long, raven-black hair is pulled into a sleek high ponytail, revealing a sharply defined face with determined eyes that pierce like an eagle’s.As she talks with Spencer, pacing back and forth, her movements are steady and graceful. Each action is packed with an uncanny grace. Her steel-toed combat boots make a commanding clank on the ground, as though declaring her resolve with every step. Dangling from a bejeweled sheath at her hip is a wickedly sharp longsword, a few inches of exposed blade glinting in the sunlight. Everything about her evokes awe. She must be a warrior. But who is she? I watch her proud stance and domineering presence with wide eyes, feeling a profound sense of respect as I look at her. Suddenly, Spencer’s gaze latches onto
Ivy's POVWhen the warrior approaches us, strong features etched into the picture of concern, I know something’s gone wrong. “Apologies for intruding, Beta Wilson,” the warrior says, nodding his head ever so slightly. “But I’ve just received word from the prison that inmate Veronica Kent has been causing a fuss. She’s been demanding to see you.”My stomach twists. What could Veronica possibly want?Beta Wilson sets his jaw. “Before I speak to anyone else, I must escort Miss Ivy to her room.” “No, it’s alright,” I say quickly. I’m tired of being fussed after. I just want to go to my room and recover in peace. “Go handle your business. I can get back to my chambers on my own. As twisted as these halls are, I’m getting the hang of it.” I grin wryly, already turning away from Beta Wilson. “As you wish,” he says after a moment’s hesitation, allowing the warrior to lead him away. I start to wander down the hallways on my own. I’m happy to find that my words before weren’t a lie–I really
Ivy's POV“We’ll start with the greeting etiquette.”The playful lilt to Princess Sylvia’s voice immediately makes me tense, and I look at her cautiously, uncovering my own platter of food as she starts to explain. “Everyone must kneel before Lycan Royalty,” Princess Sylvia proclaims. “And for ladies such as yourself, a curtsey is required. You must cross your legs and bend in a half-squat position, as low to the ground as possible. Keep your back straight, and every movement dainty and graceful. You do not want to offend any member of the Lycan Royal Family with a disastrous curtsey. And, of course, your eyes should not ever meet royalty’s gaze. Your head must be lowered.” Princess Sylvia looks up at me expectantly, cutting into her food with a tiny silver knife. “Oh!” I blink in surprise. “Um–am I supposed to…?”“Well, do you expect me to curtsey to you?” Princess Sylvia asks with a snort that I must admit sounds quite unladylike. “What a ridiculous notion! Show me your curtsey.
Ivy's POVI’ve never been more grateful for Beta Wilson’s presence than I am at this moment. I allow myself to lean on Beta Wilson as I regain my bearings. My back is still bleeding, and the muscles in my legs and stomach burn in agony, worn and overworked. My joints ache and creak. I breathe in and out slowly, trying to sort myself out. Something about seeing me in his arms causes Princess Sylvia’s facade to slip entirely. She fixes Beta Wilson and I with a look of profound hatred, and I quickly realize what this is all about. Princess Sylvia is jealous of me. Her reasoning is absolutely ridiculous, of course. I certainly have no intentions of stealing Beta Wilson away from her, and he doesn’t seem to have any feelings for me. We could be friends, maybe, but certainly not lovers. There’s nothing between us–my heart belongs to Spencer. I just wish Sylvia would stop taking out all her frustrations on me. “What are you doing, Sylvia?” Beta Wilson asks with a disappointed shake of
Spencer’s POV“The Lycan Kingdom will come to your aid at once.” Clearly, the ease with which I offer my support comes as something of a shock to Alpha Fierro. His eyes widen, and his face breaks into an expression of gratitude. His posture already seems straighter, like a great weight has been lifted from his shoulders. “Really?” Alpha Fierro breathes out. “Thank you, Your Majesty. Truly, I’d nearly given up hope on receiving any sort of aid at all–I’d almost started believing the rumours…” My eyes narrow. “The rumours?” I repeat coldly.” Alpha Fierro blanches. “Well, I–of course, I never really believed them. But I’m sure it hasn’t escaped your vast reach of influence that some werewolves have been saying things about the Lycan Royal Family that have been rather… out of line. Ever since Elder Jet and his rebellion, things have been different. But I–that’s not important! What I’m trying to say to you right now is thank you, Your Majesty. From the bottom of my heart.” I remain si
Spencer’s POV“Tell me everything you know about this plague.” The command is sharp and electric, crackling with urgency. At Alpha Fierro’s mention of this strange plague taking lives–not to mention its unfortunate coinciding with the Blood Moon–I can’t help but feel nauseous thinking about what could happen to Ivy. There’s been no confirmation that she’s sick with any sort of plague, of course, and there haven’t been any reported cases of illness from those who have come into contact with her so far. But all of that could change at any given moment, and when it comes to Ivy’s life–or the lives of anyone in my kingdom, for that matter–I have no intention of taking it lightly. Alpha Fierro hesitates for a moment. “I’ve been having my Beta send me reports tracking the symptoms he’s seen from some of the infected pack members we’ve got under observation,” he says. “But my Beta is–well.” He stops speaking abruptly, gaze momentarily taken over by sadness. “He’s deteriorating rapidly, to
Spencer’s POVAs I tear my way through the hospital and back towards the place, a million thoughts are racing through my mind. “Where’s he been staying since I turned him away?” I ask Beta Wilson, moving as quickly as I can. The day of my wedding, he’d somehow managed to fistfight his way past all my staff and slip past the wedding chaos to my penthouse. He’d knocked on my door like a madman before pleading with me to take his meeting–the only reason I even did was because I hold a fair amount of respect for the Sunclash pack. But the man had been blabbering on and on about some sort of curse rained down from hell that had overtaken his punishment, and he’d seemed all but mad, and I’d had a million other things on my mind since. “He’s been staying in a hotel within the kingdom for the past week,” Beta Wilson replies. “I’ve done my best to reach out to him over the past couple days, but he’s remained adamant that he only wanted to speak with you. At first I thought it best not to le
Spencer’s POV“No matter what happens to me, swear you’ll always take care of Tala.” Something in the solemnity of Ivy’s words jolts me right back to reality. Immediately, I realize just how unstable I’m acting–threatening the very doctors and nurses who are trying to save Ivy couldn’t be a more impractical use of my time, and it’s certainly not the kind of support Ivy needs right now. What’s happening to her would be terrifying enough even without all the uncertainty–my own overreaction certainly isn’t something she needs to be worrying about right now. Above all else, she needs to know I’m there for her. “Oh, Ivy, of course I’ll always take care of Tala,” I tell her gently. “You don’t need to worry about that at all. She’s my daughter, and I love her. I swear I’ll do everything in my power to make sure she never has a care in the world. Jason, too–I want him to be my son as well. I know I haven’t always been as reliable as you’ve needed me to be in the past, but I’ll always be he
Ivy’s POV“That is unacceptable!” At the roar of Spencer’s voice, the ferocity of his tone and the growl rumbling in his throat, the nurses and Doctor Danbury both back away in fear as they look up at him with wide, horrified eyes. I’m not even the designated target of Spencer’s ire–hell, I’m the person he’s doing everything possible to protect–but I still feel an instinctive shiver of panic run through me at the sound of such evident threat and disapproval. I can feel Spencer’s Lycan Aura, only more powerful now that he’s king, just on the precipice of being unleashed. It crackles through the air red hot and electric as he continues skewering the doctor and the nurses with his severe gaze. “Spencer,” I try to say, reaching out and grabbing his hand. Another cough hits me, though, and I’m hacking and wheezing as I try to speak. “Spencer, please, it’s not their fault–” “Their job is to heal!” Spencer protests. He turns to look at me, and much to my surprise, I can see the tears spr
Spencer’s POVThe more time Ivy and I spend in the hospital, the more the days begin to blur. When Ivy is deemed stable enough to move out of the delivery room, we’re quickly moved to a much nicer room in the hospital, and it’s a brief respite from the monotony that’s overtaken our days. I’m able to move most of my work from the palace to the hospital, though I do go back every so often to transfer files or spend some time with Tala. “It’s just a postpartum fever,” Doctor Danbury assured us initially, looking over her files with a wrinkled brow. “Queen Ivy, I know you’re feeling sensations right now unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before, but I promise it’s all a fairly natural–albeit unpleasant–aspect of the postpartum healing process. We’ve got you constantly monitored now. Just do your best to keep eating and drinking. The best you can do is build back your strength.” “Yes, Doctor,” Ivy said demurely. But as we exchanged dissatisfied glances, I could tell neither one of
Ivy’s POVAs I watch the former Lycan Queen hold my daughter, a strange sensation suddenly overtakes me. I let out a sharp gasp, grasping for Spencer’s hand immediately. I try to cling to it, but my grip is already beginning to slacken. Tiny black and white specks flash across my face like static. I can hear a faint ringing in my ears, a piercingly shrill whistle that feels like an ever-growing pressure just behind my eyes. Goosebumps ripple across my skin, and all the residual pain I’ve felt from childbirth suddenly seems to intensify. But more than anything else, I feel like I’m on fire. It’s as though hot coals have been set ablaze just underneath my skin, like I’m crisping up and sweltering in the overwhelming heat. I groan, doubling over in pain as the heat persists. “Ivy?” Spencer asks urgently, immediately doing his best to prop me up. I keep slackening against his grasp, though. “Ivy, what’s wrong?” I do my best to form words, but it’s as though my tongue is suddenly inca
Spencer’s POVAs I look down at my daughter, a love unlike anything I’ve ever felt before flows through me. It’s not different in its magnitude, but rather in its softness, its sweetness. The overwhelming sense of protectiveness that overtakes me. My young daughter, my beautiful Tala. I want to take care of her day in and day out. To provide for everything she may need. To be there for her as long as I possibly can. Her soft, squishy cheeks, her pudgy fists grasping at nothing, the wisps of curly hair still plastered to her head…“Could I hold her, please?” I ask Ivy quietly. She beams up at me. “Of course!” I take a seat beside her in the hospital bed, careful not to jostle her or Tala too much as I do. The moment I’m seated comfortably, Ivy slowly places the little bundle of joy into my arms, and my heart feels like it’s about to overflow with all the love I’m feeling. “Oh,” I whisper softly, tears forming in the corners of my eyes. I smile gently at Tala, brushing one finger ag
Spencer’s POV“So is the baby okay?” I ask the question frantically, watching both Ivy and the infant in fear that something could go wrong at any instant. The image laid out before me is peaceful–Ivy is cradling our child in both arms, rocking her back and forth and humming and whispering sweet nothings against her baby curls. Most of the blood has been wiped from the infant’s pudgy body, and she’s sleeping now, all curled up in her fuzzy pink blanket. But I can’t shake the lingering feeling that something is terribly, horribly wrong. Doctor Danbury shrugs. “Honestly, if I didn’t know she was about twenty-eight weeks early, I wouldn’t have known,” she replies. “Her vitals are healthy, her breathing is good, she’s an appropriate weight and size… this was pretty much the ideal scenario for childbirth, save for the fact that it happened directly after your wedding. I can’t promise anything going forward, but right now, you have a perfectly healthy baby girl.” “But how did this… happ