Ashton takes my hand again and lifts it to his lips. He brushes a kiss across my knuckles and says, “because they don’t understand who we are, what we are. Now that you’ve seen what their lives are like, is it what you truly want?”Do I truly want a life where I get to pick my own mate? To decide when to have children or if I even want them? In a world where people are free to love whomever they choose, regardless of breeding potential?“Within the pack, we have stability.” He leans in just slightly, his eye contact becoming more intense. “You will never be without a home, without food. They don’t protect each other out there. I know you’ve seen it.”“I have,” I admit reluctantly. I saw the consequences of simple mistakes, the uncontrollable havoc wreaked on long chains of human lives. The human world, even with all its flaws, showed me freedom that I couldn’t have as part of the pack. But I don’t know what it actually means to be human; I always had the option of going home.I was ju
I look down on the space, with its lit torches and pebbled paths, from the open upper level. The last time I was here, I stood trembling before Lycaon’s monolith and rejected his curse, the price we pay for the power of Fenrir and the blessing of Lupa. Wrapped in my ceremonial robe, I called out the words that shamed my family and upset the community.Now, I’m here to watch the ceremony for the second time in my life. Tonight, no young person is making the transformation for the first time. I wonder if that’s on purpose. Maybe people are afraid that just seeing me here will inspire their children to make bad choices.No one is thinking that. The only person thinking about you this much is you.But that isn’t entirely true. Mother and Father stay close, no matter where I go. Right now, they’re engaged in conversation with another couple, but I know that if I so much as go to the bathroom, Mother will follow me. And when we arrived, Tara and Clare said hello but quickly distanced themse
I’ve just rejoined the crowd in the mezzanine when a thrall bearing the sigil of the king on his jacket approaches.“From his majesty, King Nathaniel,” the thrall says, and hands me a small black envelope.Inside, a crisp card with strong, slanted script reads:Ms. Dixon—It has come to my attention that I’ve put you in an unfavorable situation. I would like to make it up to you. Come to dinner at the royal residence. Friday, eight o’clock.NathanI swallow and read it a second time before stuffing it guiltily into my clutch. Scanning the crowd, I search for any sign that my sisters or Ashton or worst of all, my Mother, has seen the thrall passing notes to me like the king and I are in middle school. To my relief, the subtle flickering of the lights overheard, like a signal to a theater audience to take their seats, distracts everyone. They’ll go down to a set of ritual dressing chambers first to change into ceremonial robes, then they’ll take their place in the circle with the others
An acolyte—a thrall trained in our ceremonies and rituals—steps forward with a shallow silver bowl bearing a glistening human heart. It’s required for the transformation; Lycaon himself was transformed into a wolf after he angered Zeus by feeding the God human flesh. Nathan grabs the heart with his bare hand and bites into it.That’s when he lifts his gaze and finds me, seconds before the transformation starts.It begins with his eyes. They flash silver, then red. His face shifts, nose and jaw elongating into a muzzle. We don’t turn into wolves. That’s a myth. We turn into a creature that stands upright; body covered with short, silky hair from our clawed feet to our canine-like heads. The fur flows over every contour of Nathan’s body and his spine curves, drawing him into a hunched posture. His ears elongate, pointing straight back, a shape humans would consider more elfin than dog-like, with tufts of fur accentuating the points. His arms grow longer, as well; in this predatory manif
I curl up from the seat, mouth open in a groan of relief of that doesn’t make a sound. My thighs tremble and tense, and I come so hard my hand and my panties get soaked. The fantasy is so fresh and vivid in my mind, I’m surprised to find myself still dressed and safe behind the wheel of my car, though I’m panting and sweating. I grab some tissue from the glove compartment and clean up the mess on my hand, my thighs, and the leather seat between them.How am I supposed to be with Nathan, alone, without climbing on him? I’m starting to hope I really am just hard up and imagining our attraction. I’m in a mating pact with someone. Fucking someone else is not allowed.But I will never feel for Ashton the things I feel for Nathan. I can barely tolerate Ashton’s touch, while I long for Nathan’s. The idea of letting Ashton inside my body disgusts me, and I’m certain it’s going to take more than duty to get me into our wedding bed. If Nathan were here, right now, I would beg him to fuck me. I
“He is the king!” she rages. “It doesn’t matter how he signed it. You should think of him, speak of him, as if he’s your king. And he should think of you as just another subject. He clearly does not.”She goes to my closet and throws open the doors, disappearing inside as she mutters about needing to buy me an appropriate wardrobe. I hear her pawing through my clothes in annoyance before she emerges with a black crepe top with pleated white sleeve cuffs and a prim peter-pan neckline. She jerks a pair of black tie-waist trousers off their hanger and throws the clothes onto the bed in disgust. “Get dressed. Your Father is waiting to speak to you downstairs.”She leaves and slams the door, and I immediately reach for my phone to check the time. It’s ten o’clock, much later than I’m usually allowed to sleep, and the Daniels will be over for brunch at noon. I put as much hustle into getting ready as I reasonably can and still leave less time between then and now for Father to lecture me.M
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 breath 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 Nathan.Nathan 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 etiquette demanded by our society. It felt like if only we were alone, nothing would hold him back. Now, it appears we are alone, and
“That must have been traumatic.” He comes over and hands me a glass, but he doesn’t sit beside me. Instead, he takes an armchair, leaning back comfortably with a highball glass of something amber-colored.I’m not sure if I should downplay what the experience was like. It was definitely traumatic. After sitting in a bare office room, shivering in my ceremonial robe while Mother and Father screamed at me, I was whisked away home to collect as much as I could stuff into my luggage in thirty minutes. A change of clothes and I was on a private plane to an uncertain future.Not even my sisters knew what happened to me. Not even my best friends.Yet, I can blurt it all out to this stranger. “When I arrived in London, I didn’t even have a place to stay. I went to a hotel and used the credit card Father gave me. A few days later, he wired me money and a promise that I would be taken care of, but at seventeen, with nothing but my passport and someone else’s money, it was difficult to get an apa