The deep, hollow toll of a bell announces the midnight hour. In the round courtyard below, pack members file into the sacred circle. They wear ceremonial robes of silver silk, easy to remove once the transformation takes hold.Humans imagine scenes in movies where werewolves scream in agony and tear out of their clothes, which I’ve never understood. We know when the full moon is. It doesn’t take us by surprise. And we know how to dress for it.Or undress. My breath freezes in my lungs as Owen walks into the circle. He stops in front of the monolith to Lycaon and drops his robe.I shamelessly look him over, the way he did to me, from his broad shoulders, down his chest dusted with dark hair that thins to a line on his shockingly sculpted abs. I wasn’t expecting him to look as good as he does. I wasn’t expecting that my mouth would water at the sight of his cock, that my thighs would clench together at the thought of how huge it must be hard. I hope he feels me, smells me.And I hope
This can’t be transpiring.I sit up and yank the note from Mother’s hand. “You went through my purse?”“What do you think you’re doing?” she hisses, disregarding my query. “You are in a mating pact. You can’t see another man behind your fiancé’s back!”“I’m not seeing anyone. I’m sure you read it. It’s an invitation to make up for—”“It is an invitation to gossip. To scandal and ruin.” She grabs the card back and rips it in half, then in half again before dropping the pieces onto the carpet. “How long has this been going on?”“How long has this been going on?” I almost argue that I’ve only been home for a few days, but then I remember that as far as everyone else in the pack is concerned, I could be a spy for Greater London. Maybe she thinks I was banging the king like a drum there, long before he seized the throne here.Maybe she thinks I have something to do with him taking over the pack.“You know exactly what I’m asking,” Mother insists. “How long have you and the king been seeing
The night of the ball, every light in Aconitum Hall was lit. Tonight, it’s mostly dark. It’s not as inviting; the towers loom sinister and medieval over the city, blotting out the sky rather than polluting it with added light.I take a deep whiff as I step out of my car. Mother and Father refused to let me take the driver and I’m not sure where one parks at a royal palace. My shoes crunch on the gravel of the small parking area beyond the front porte cochere. I head in that direction, my heart beating in an unfamiliar and worrying pattern. The door opens at the top of the steps, and I expect to see a thrall butler there. But it’s Owen.Owen just opened his front door. Like he’s a person and not a king. I freeze in place. He does, too. It’s a strange moment; before, the undeniable attraction between us was insulated by the presence of others and the appropriateness demanded by our society. It felt like if only we were alone, nothing would hold him back. Now, it appears we are alone,
He follows that bombshell with, “I hope you like venison.”I stumble into the dining room, where a large table is set for two at one end.“It’s very fresh,” he goes on. “I hunted it myself during the full moon.”I can’t get past his earlier announcement. “You did it?”“Well, you know. The only things to do during the full moon are fuck, fight, or hunt.” He pulls a chair out for me and I sit obediently, out of habit.“I’m not talking about the deer!” I lean toward him as he sits and for some reason, I lower my voice like we’re in danger of being overheard. “You conjured the Right of Accord? Your pack has a Right of Accord?”He nods and lifts his hand to signal the staff for the first course. As the thralls place bowls of pale cream soup in front of us, Owen elaborates. “All packs operate under the same law, given to us by Lycaon the Younger. Didn’t they teach that in school?”I shake my head. “I assumed pack law was just the law of our pack.”“Hmiders for a moment. “Don toon teach chil
The Dixon family motto could easily be, “If it’s uncomfortable, ignore it.”My dinner with OIfn last week is currently causing my family maximum discomfort, and their unwcausingess to speak to me about it is such a blessing, I practically beam on the ride to brunch and my fitting for my ceremonial dress.Still, my heart and head are divided. While I desperately want to believe Owen can get me out of this mating pact, it’s not as simple as “I’m king, I can do what I want.” He’ll face the wrath of a packaging nightmare. There’s no way Ashton and his family tape nightmaNightmareonelwalkinger them so blatantly.And I don’t know Owen at all. There’s no guarantee he means what he says. Maybe he’s that magnetic and disarming with every woman he meets. There could be any number of potential mates in the pack that he’s considering; there’s no reason for me to believe otherwise, especially when rumors are swirling that he’s in love with the former queen.Still, if he’s serious, dissolution of
I’m in my room when Tara arrives, and she chirps into the intercom that she’s coming up. Even as kids, we never had to share our space, but we’re all in that my that's that girl's hate Even though Tara and Clare have moved out, their bedrooms are still there, though they’ve been redecorated a bit removed fairy lights and school trophies.My door creaks open and I sit up on my bed, tossing aside my book. “Hey.”“Hey,” she says, and sighs deeply, sliding her hands into the back pockets of her jeans and rocking on her heels.“That bad, huh?” I try to laugh as I swing my legs over the side of the bed, but the mood in the room is somewhere between “right before you find out grandma died” and “the sex talk with your parents.”Not that I’ve experienced either; our grandparents are all still alive and probably have a good hundred years left, and Mother has probably never even said the word “sex” out loud.“You can sit down,” I say, rolling my eyes. “Stop acting like you’re here to break bad n
I have no idea what I’m doing as I race to Aconitum Hall. I don’t know if Owen will be there or if I can even see him. But he’s the king; it’s not like I have his private cell phone number or anything.Then maybe you shouldn’t be driving over to his house unannounced. My rational mind has a point, but my alarm brain overrides it. I’m not rushing over to his house to declare my love or beg him to be my boyfriend. He’s the pack leader, I’m his subject, and I need help.There’s a gatehouse at the main entrance, staffed by a thrall who looks up from her book with a suspicious expression as I pull up. She reaches to her hip to flick the safety of the gun in her holster before she opens the window.Outside of hunting, I’ve never seen an actual gun in an individual before. That makes me wish I had thought my actions through a little more before tearing over here.“Name and purpose of visit.” Her voice doesn’t go up at the end at all. It’s not a question, but a warning that I shouldn’t be he
It’s one dinner. Just one, I tell myself as I approach the restaurant doors.But I don’t know if it’s the last time I’m going to have to sit across from Ashton and pretend that I’m going to be his willing little wife. I do not doubt Owen is Owenis going to make good on his promise to nullify Ashton’s lawsuit against me. I just don’t know when. Lupercalia is still two weeks away. Plus, I haven’t heard from the king since the night we almost…I try not to think about that as the maître d’ leads me through the dimly lit main floor, to a round banquette of soft ivory leather. Ashton hesitates there, his coppery hair combed back and brushing the collar of his expensive suit jacket. He rises with a broad smile, takes my hands, and kisses my cheek. “I almost gave up on you.”I wish you would. I physically bite my tongue to keep from saying it. “I’m sorry. I got turned around on the way here.”He frowns as we slide into our seats. “You drove yourself?”“Mmhm,” I affirm through my closed-lip