Spencer's POVAlthough I want to cut my enemy down the moment I see him, I trust Gamma Everly to handle the situation. Or, at least, I trust her enough to hold back for now. I crouch down in my spot in the bushes, completely hidden from view. Despite the distance and the sound of the river burbling, I can still hear the entire conversation thanks to my keen hearing. “–Please, Everly,” I can hear Alpha Jameson saying through the trees. His voice is gentle, pleading, but I don’t believe him for a second. “Ever since I first saw you in those woods, I’ve been utterly captivated by you. You’re my mate, even if you’re the Lycan Royal Family’s Gamma. I know you refused me the first time I asked, but you’re here now, just like I asked you to be, which means you’ve reconsidered. You’re fighting on the losing side of this battle. Join me, and let me make you my Luna.” “You make it sound awfully romantic,” Gamma Everly says flatly, raising an unimpressed eyebrow. “‘Ever since you first saw m
Spencer's POVThe werewolves circle Gamma Everly, ready to pounce on her all at once, but I’m not the slightest bit worried about her getting hurt. Still, I can’t help but frown as the werewolves set up their attack. While I’m not worried about Gamma Everly, the despicable nature of Alpha Jameson has me more disturbed than I’d like to admit. I believe that the mate-bond between Gamma Everly and Alpha Jameson is real–so for him to use it against her like that, in such a wicked way…It hints at his deeply twisted nature. Still, a dozen or so werewolf warriors are no match for Gamma Everly. “I wish I was surprised, Jameson,” Gamma Everly says with a sigh. “But if you think this is all it takes to defeat me, I guess you never really knew me at all.”I watch from the bushes as the warriors charge at Gamma Everly from all directions. Gamma Everly leaps into the air with an uncanny grace, a brilliant streak of cardinal red lighting up the sky as she flips in midair and twists around to es
Spencer's POVNow that they’ve consumed the red potions, Alpha Jameson’s warriors are even stronger than they were before. They all shift simultaneously, and I’m caught off guard by how large their shifted forms are–almost approaching the massive size of Lycans. They charge at Gamma Everly at once, barrelling towards her in an unrelenting mass of fur and claws and slavering fangs. Gamma Everly raises her fists in anticipation of the oncoming attack, but doesn’t shift. Still watching through the bushes, I smirk. Refusing to fight another werewolf in their wolf form is one of the greatest insults to a werewolf’s combat ability, and Alpha Jameson deserves to be thoroughly humiliated before we tear him to pieces. Gamma Everly moves in a blasting red streak, kicking and punching and weaving between the mass of wolf bodies charging towards her, but they’re even tougher opponents now than they were before. Under the relentless onslaught, Gamma Everly seems to waver ever so slightly. Whil
Spencer's POVWith Alpha Jameson gone, it doesn’t take much time to kill the few living werewolves that remain. I wash the blood off my hands in the riverbank, then head down the path Alpha Jameson used to flee. Ahead of me, I can see that Gamma Everly has caught up with him a ways down the riverbank. She moves swiftly down the edge of the water, heels kicking up flurries of dirt as she travels. I don’t know how she’s going to handle her mate-bond with Alpha Jameson, but I trust that she won’t betray the Lycan Royal Family. He offered her everything, and she turned it down. If she wanted to betray us, she would have. I know where her loyalties lie. Alpha Jameson is still running, but Gamma Everly runs up behind him and tackles him around the waist. In an instant, she has him completely pinned, pushing his face down into the dirt. She punches him in the face, and I can hear a rough cracking sound as blood starts to pour freely from his obviously-broken nose. “How could you do this
Ivy's POVThe werewolf attackers don’t seem to be able to move. I pause for a moment, watching them uncertainly, but it seems they heeded my command–when I said stop, they stopped. It’s as if they had no chance but to obey. Why? The question flashed through my mind briefly, but there was no time to ponder it.I walk towards them cautiously, picking past their claws and bloody muzzles as I approach Princess Sylvia–who’s losing blood at a frightening rate. She looks up at me through dazed, glassy eyes as I grab her around the waist and pull her into a bridal-style carry. The werewolves still aren’t moving. The princess’s clothes are sticky and wet with blood, a sensation that makes my skin crawl. Still, I hold onto her as tightly as I can, running quickly into the depths of the forest and. The night feels heavy and ominous as I sprint. The sound of rushing wind and my own desperate breathing fills my ears. I can almost hear my own heartbeat, that dull pulsing and thudding ringing
Ivy's POVSomehow, despite being possibly mortally wounded and bleeding out in the middle of nowhere, Princess Sylvia is able to bring everything back to her relationship issues. I can’t help but roll my eyes at her, grateful that the darkness will prevent her from seeing it clearly. In her words, I feel as though the rude spoiled princess from the palace has returned–the one who had me sent to the Werewolf Council and tried to torture me over a round of etiquette lessons. I don’t actually feel all that frustrated or afraid, though. It’s sort of relieving to catch a glimpse of the Sylvia I’m used to. If she has the energy and the capacity to be feisty, maybe the situation isn’t quite as bad as I thought. Maybe she’s actually got a chance of making it out of here alive“Beta Wilson does care about you,” I reassure Princess Sylvia gently, finding her shoulder through the darkness and squeezing it reassuringly. I think back to the conversation Wilson and I had in the garden. “Even if
Ivy's POV“I’ve got him!” Princess Sylvia whispers through the darkness. Her head lolls weakly, and she suddenly seems much less healthy than she did before. “What–what do I say?” My stomach plummets. I reach for the princess’s hand and squeeze it, then drop my fingers to her wrist to keep track of her pulse. It’s there, but seems weaker than I’d like. Princess Sylvia is in desperate need of medical attention. I don’t know how much time we have.“Tell him where we are,” I advise.“I don’t know where we are!”I grit my teeth. “Tell him the name of the area you wanted me to be imprisoned in, then, and tell him we’re hiding in an animal cave in the side of the mountain. That should help.”“Alright.” Princess Sylvia doesn’t even seem to have the decency to sound ashamed of her actions as she relays the information to Beta Wilson. “Tell him you’re injured, too,” I add. “He could probably bring us medical supplies–at the very least, something to help you with the pain.”“What pain? I’m
Ivy's POV“Because I don’t want Spencer to die!”My eyes widen at the princess’s confession. “What do you mean you don’t want Spencer to die?” I ask. “I thought me dying would only weaken him–are you telling me it would kill him?”Princess Sylvia sighs. “That part is true–in theory, it would only weaken him, because you’re his mate and you performed the Blood Oath Ceremony together. But the Lycan Royal Family is at war now, and Spencer is right there out on the battlefield. If you were to be killed, the pain it would bring Spencer could cost him his life in the heat of combat. Spencer is the Crown Prince, the future Lycan King. And I have to put my family first. So I had no choice but to try and save you.” I fall into stunned silence. Princess Sylvia smiles at me wryly, a bit of blood dribbling out of her mouth. “Does that upset you?” She asks. “To know I only saved you for the sake of the Lycan Royal Family?”“I don’t… I don’t know,” I manage, still stunned by her words. She chuck
Ivy’s POV“Are you ready?” I whisper the question to Spencer as we stand behind a huge set of double doors. I’ve known him as the Lycan King for several weeks now, and been referred to as the Lycan Queen since our wedding, but today is the day it becomes official. Today is the day of the coronation. And I couldn’t be more excited. Every citizen of the Lycan Kingdom physically able to be in attendance is seated just beyond those double doors, dressed in their finest attire. I can hear the waning sounds of the band playing our anthem triumphantly, can hear the heavy steel-toed footfalls of our military as they carry out their grand display. It’s a show of strength and endurance–everything about today has been structured to portray power and confidence, from the massive outdoor ceremony in the palace’s courtyard to the full military regalia on display. “Ready as ever,” Spencer replies. “This is what I was born to, after all.” There’s a firm set to his jaw and iron in his posture. E
Spencer’s POV“Congratulations, Colin!” My mother is the first one to acknowledge the news, smiling gleefully as she looks towards her son and his fiancée. Now that their secret is out, Delilah is positively beaming as she slips the engagement ring out of her pocket and onto her finger, waving her hand back and forth. I chuckle lowly as the happy couple kisses tenderly. I just know they’re going to have the most unnecessarily extravagant wedding possible, and they’re going to adore every second of it. “I’m telling you, they’re only together because Delilah and I were engaged,” I murmur to Ivy out of the corner of my mouth. She rolls her eyes, but she’s grinning. “If you say so, Spencer.” “Must be something in the air,” Sylvia remarks. “I heard Gamma Everly and Captain Leo got engaged, too!” At that news, I smile genuinely. After all the heartbreak she’s endured over the years, I’m glad Gamma Everly has finally found a man who can match her. It seems that my wedding to Ivy was on
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