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
Ivy's POVBeta Wilson looks utterly heartbroken as he leads us away from Princess Sylvia’s chambers. “Let’s go to the garden,” he suggests quietly, moving quickly through the hallways. “I need to… I need to clear my head.”I nod in agreement, allowing him to guide the two of us to the palace gardens. As we step into the lush mazes of roses and lilies, past terraces dripping with wisteria and fountains sending gorgeous arcs of water into the sky, a strange sort of calm seems to settle over both of us. We walk between archways and fruit trees laden heavily with fruit for a bit, but soon, the muscles in my legs start to protest. Still sore from everything the maids and Princess Sylvia put me through, I take a seat on a stone bench beneath an orange tree. The sweet scent of citrus envelops us. “Beta Wilson,” I say carefully, “Can I ask you something… direct?”“Go right ahead,” he replies with a defeated sigh. “Do you love Princess Sylvia?”Beta Wilson’s mouth falls open in shock, expr
Spencer's POVThe two rebel packs aren’t too far from each other. Which makes them a fearsome foe, perhaps, but also makes for light travel. Gamma Everly and I, along with the rest of the warriors, stop our travels about ten kilometers from the first pack’s border. “We’ll camp here!” I call out to my warriors, surveying the landscape. We’re at the base of a small hill–not so tall the rebels would get the upper hand on us if they attacked, but tall enough to block us from being immediately detected. The woods nearby are lush with life and should provide easy hunting so we can travel light without having to worry too much about rations. Judging by the current angle of the wind, the smoke from our fires shouldn’t drift towards the rebel pack. All in all, it’s the perfect place to begin our siege. “Prepare for a lengthy campaign, men,” I say, gaze sweeping across our makeshift campsite already beginning construction. “This area will serve as our base for rest and training. We’ll dra
Spencer's POVI find Gamma Everly in the middle of the camp, surrounded by a swarm of warriors. “Make way,” I commanded immediately, pushing through the crowd. As I approach her, I can’t see any visible injuries, but her expression is one of profound shock. I narrow my eyes, examining Gamma Everly a bit more closely. Shock is exceptionally unusual for her–the more I look at her, the more I realize I’ve never seen her look this rattled before. I’ve fought alongside her countless times, and haven’t seen her usual calm, wise, put-together attitude slip once. But Gamma Everly looks shaken to her very core. An underlying pressure seems to be seeping into the camp. This time, our enemy may be more formidable than anything we’ve faced before. “Are you alright?” I ask Gamma Everly softly. She nods once. “May I speak privately with you, Your Highness?”“Of course.” Gamma Everly brushes herself off once, as though trying to rid herself of the memories of everything she’s seen, before st
Ivy's POV“I’ve scheduled you for a medical checkup!”I look up at Princess Sylvia in annoyance as she storms into my chambers, arms crossed impatiently over her chest. She stares down at me as though waiting for something. “Who let you in here?” I mutter, stretching out slowly on the loveseat. “A maid. I’m the Lycan Princess, remember? I go where I want,” the princess boasts, tapping her foot impatiently. “Now get moving.” “Which room is it in?” I ask, standing up. “I can head there myself when it’s time.”Princess Sylvia grins. “Oh, it’s not in the palace.”My stomach falls. “I… don’t know, Your Highness,” I say carefully, sitting back down. “My wounds aren’t all that bad, and the medicine has been working. I don’t need a checkup.”The princess scoffs. “It’s not for your wounds. Since you’re Spencer’s mate and potentially the bearer of his heir, it’s crucial that you’re in good health. But because you don’t have a wolf, and Moon Goddess knows what else is wrong with you, it’s im
Spencer’s POVIt’s been a couple days since I returned from the Sunclash pack and Ivy began recovering from the plague, and things have finally had a chance to settle into a routine. Beta Wilson and Doctor Danbury have been working restlessly to distribute the antidote to those in need far and wide. We’ve eradicated it completely from the Lycan kingdom and have almost finished scrubbing it from the outer packs. All of Elder Jet’s rebels have been placed in our custody, with trials pending. Based on the reports from other packs as well as the newly-formed Werewolf Council, it seems as though Elder Jet’s toxic ideology has been defeated for good. We still have lots to do to repair our relationship with the werewolves, of course, but we’re in a good place to begin that work. And as soon as Ivy returns to her full strength, I’m excited for us to begin that work together. I set down the last stack of papers on my desk and push open the door to my office, wandering back into the main bo
Ivy’s POV“What is it?” Those are the last words I hear, spoken in Spencer’s soothing, familiar voice, before I slip into an uneasy half-sleep. I can feel blankets being shifted and jostled around me, the vibrations from wheels being rolled across a bumpy floor. But my mind is distant, dreaming. I see fire. Magic. Blood. Frantic voices cry out, but there’s someone else, promising that I’m stable–just exhausted. My body is lifted up from the uncomfortable mattress and laid down somewhere much more soft and padded. There, finally, as the terrible burning recedes from my skin, I’m able to fall into a quiet, restful sleep. I’m not sure how much time passes before I finally come to. As my eyes plink open slowly, blearily, the first thing I see is Spencer sitting at the edge of my bed, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Good morning, Sleepyhead,” he says softly. I let out a quiet chuckle. “What time is it actually?” I groan, dragging a hand down my face. Suddenly I realize that everythin
Spencer’s POVAs I push past the double doors and into the hospital’s foyer, I’m struck by the absolute chaos everywhere. There are patients being pushed and shuffled in every direction, and the entire hospital staff looks criminally overworked, worry lines and downcast expressions almost completely hidden behind thick airtight filters. I realize the yellow suits all the staff are wearing match the protective suits Doctor Danbury gave us when we were investigating the Sunclash pack. And if everyone is in plague equipment now…I can only hope we’ll have enough of the antidote to deal with all the infected. That’s an issue for later, though. Right now, my focus is solely on Ivy. “Where’s the queen?” I shout, looking around the foyer frantically. A nurse rushes over towards me hurriedly, gaze darting back and forth. “She–she’s in the quarantine wing, Your Majesty,” the nurse says. “Quite a few patients are, unfortunately. Before I can take you there, I’m going to have to ask you to
Spencer’s POVAs soon as I pass the threshold of the Lycan Kingdom, I hear a frantic message from Captain Leo echoing in my mind. ‘–and they’re here!’ Comes the call, which has surely been repeating over and over again for ages now, if I’m hearing it as soon as I’m able. Captain Leo’s voice is frantic and desperate. ‘Please, Your Majesty, we have to get this under control. We need you here.’ I grit my teeth and keep my gaze peeled on the road ahead. We’re on our way to the palace now, to deliver the antidote to Ivy and whoever else may need it, but we’re still a matter of minutes away at least. ‘We’re in the kingdom now,’ I assure him. ‘Who’s here?’‘The rest of Elder Jet’s rebels, Your Majesty. It seems they were waiting for you to leave.’ I scowl in displeasure as I watch the scenery continue to blur around us. Of course that was the witch’s final plan, coward that she was. To poison my wife and lure me out to the middle of nowhere knowing how desperate I’d be to cure her… It’s
Ivy’s POVAs I lay in the quarantine room, I can feel the growing sickness continuing to spread through my body. Alongside all the typical postpartum symptoms, which would be horrendous enough on their own, the burning is horrible in its unrelentingness. The pain meds feel more like an empty consolation than anything else now. I’m more fatigued than I’ve ever felt before, but I can’t bring myself to fall asleep, because the agony simmering just beneath my skin is impossible to ignore. Am I being punished for something? ‘What am I going to do?’ I ask Venetia hopelessly. There’s no one else to talk to but her. ‘You’ll pull through,’ Venetia assures me, though I can hear the reluctance in her tone. ‘You heard the rumours–Spencer is out there right now, searching desperately for a cure! He loves you. He’s not going to let you die. You matter too much to him.’ I chuckle bitterly. ‘At a certain point, it doesn’t matter how much he doesn’t want me to die. I’ll die or I won’t.’ Venetia
Spencer’s POVAs my claws tear through the ice-cold flesh of the witch’s body, a bloodcurdling scream suddenly pierces the air. With a fierce cry, the witch tries to wrench herself from my grasp, but she only succeeds in dragging her body along my claws, worsening her own injuries. Blood splatters on the ground and onto my paws. It doesn’t feel like blood normally does, though–it’s cold like freshwater and feels oddly slick, almost oily. I pull my lips back over my teeth and growl viciously, searching for the witch’s neck in this darkness. “You beast!” The witch wails like a banshee. I can see her eyes glinting reflectively like a cat’s in the darkness. As we hit the ground, one of her antlers breaks and falls off. “Do you have any idea how powerful I am? You don’t have the faintest whisper of a chance against me, you brute–” I curl my claws inward, deepening the wounds further, and the witch lets out another ragged scream. Suddenly, the darkness in the room all seems to slither t
Spencer’s POV“Run!” My warning to Alpha Fierro echoes through the darkened office seemingly unheard. As the shadows continue to creep around my field of vision, obscuring everything from view, my heart thuds in my chest. Never before had I been scared of an enemy until encountering the witch. I shift fluidly into my wolf form, powerful arms and legs rippling with muscles, fangs and teeth sharp as daggers. My growl is a low, warning rumble in the base of my throat. Despite my heightened sentences as I continue to peer ahead, ears trained to detect the slightest sense of movement, I still have no idea where the witch is. “Reveal yourself, coward!” I shout, my voice echoing through the room. “You betray your honour by slinking around in the shadows.” The witch’s laugh, low and melodious, fills the air. There’s a haunting coldness to it. “Honour is a werewolf construct,” she says. “And it’s so unlike a proud, foolish warrior to consider it a cowardly action to win a battle with intel
Ivy’s POVThe longer I stay in the hospital bed, the more I can feel myself beginning to crumble. The pain is ceaseless in its intensity, great waves of agony that crash over me without letting up for even a second. I can’t scream, can’t cry, can’t move. I’ve given up on trying to call in any of the nurses when the flareups get too bad–all they’ll do is look at me sadly, scared of doing anything to make me worse, scared of simply standing by and watching the queen die. There’s an IV flowing an endless stream of pain medication into my veins, which is helping somewhat, but it’s not enough. All I can do is feel this. Until it kills me, I suppose. I have no idea where Spencer is–after he rushed out of my room unexpectedly like that, he never came back. I’ve heard some whispers floating around the hospital about a great escapade, about the looming creep of a plague sweeping through the kingdom. If it really is a plague, I hope more than anything that Tala didn’t catch it from me. If
Spencer’s POV“Alpha Fierro, I need you to focus up.” The words are harsh as they leave my mouth, but I’m not trying to be malicious, although it’s true that things desperately need to get moving. The longer I spend in the Sunclash pack, the more on edge I feel. Every wall in sight feels like it’s closing in on me, and I can feel the sickness permeating the air. There’s a heaviness to this place now, an endless sense of dread. I have a feeling that this ground will carry the weight of all its deaths for a long, long time. “Scour the office for anything that seems out of place,” I say. “If your Beta was in charge of the pack in your absence, it’s likely that he was the one putting any preventative measures into place. He may have tried to find a cure–hopefully there are signs somewhere around here.” I look down at the man’s corpse, the papers clutched in his fist and the expression of profound horror on his face. “I read his reports. He seems to have been a confident, driven man. I’