Two days after my first transformation, I’m still ravenous. At first, I was exhausted. I didn’t mourn the fact that my mating ceremony reception didn’t happen; I would have slept through it, anyway. I spent twenty-four hours sleeping, waking up only to pee and scarf down whatever the thralls left in my bedroom, regardless of its temperature. When one’s body has completely transformed into a totally different creature and back again, even rubbery, cold eggs are delicious.“Maybe I got a parasite from that rabbit,” I muse aloud. I finally woke up enough to come down to breakfast with my mate, who watches with amusement as I demolish plate after plate of pancakes, ham, bacon, fried potatoes, and more apple juice than my body should be capable of holding.“A parasite wouldn’t affect you like this so soon.” He chuckles to himself. “From the rabbit or from me.”It takes me a minute—and another spoonful of oatmeal—to get what he’s talking about. “I wouldn’t refer to a baby as a parasite. But

“Good morning, Your Majesty.” Hannah glides into my sitting room with baby Jo on her hip. They’re wearing matching pantsuits, compliments of Hannah’s new boss.I spent thousands of dollars on them.“Good morning, gal Friday,” I giggle back. “Wait, is that what gal Friday means? My dad always used that phrase, but he’s like, a hundred and thirty.”“Yeah, my dad is actually cool, so... I wouldn’t know.” Hannah sits Jo in the playpen I bought to keep in the residence, with the toys I bought to go with it. “What are you going to spend your husband’s money on today?”“I don’t know. How does one buy international real estate?” I tap my lips. I don’t want a vacation home in Negril, but maybe somewhere less sunny. “I’m sure Nathan would love a cozy little cottage in Siberia. That’s a place, right?”“As your secretary, I must advise you to hire a tutor.” Hannah sighs. “And as your friend, who wants to keep her new, very high-paying job, I must advise you to not piss your mate off too much.”“I

Nathan doesn’t see me at breakfast. He doesn’t see me for another whole week. I thought for sure that his panic about needing an heir would drive him to my bed before my fertility window closed, but he’s as stubborn as I am.We’ll be a hundred before we have any kids.Meanwhile, I’ve started to doubt my course of action. Though Aconitum Hall is a castle, it’s way too small when one is aware of one’s mate on a microscopic, metaphysical level. Nathan is never far from my thoughts; our connection becomes more and more insistent the longer we stay near-but-apart, and I’m not the only one feeling it. I can smell his arousal every night as I lie in my bed, and I know he’s doing the same thing I’m doing with my hand beneath the covers. Worse, he knows I’m doing it, and somehow that makes it even hotter.I hate that I think about my cheating husband as hot.“Hey, are you with us?” Hannah asks one afternoon, snapping her fingers in my face.I swat her hand away. “Yes, sorry. I got distracted.

For a man who assured me he won’t be manipulated with sex, Nathan sure works fast. My sisters arrive from Newfoundland the morning before my coronation, less than twenty-four hours after Nathan and I made our deal.Hannah pulls me away from a fitting for my coronation gown to head down to the empty throne room. There’s already a secondary throne on the dais for me. Even though I’m not queen yet, I take it, anyway.The majordomo is there, and he waits for Hannah to signal him before the guards open the doors and he announces, “Tara and Clare, formerly of the Toronto pack.”The “formerly” part of the sentence has to sting. So does, I imagine, the part where their last names have been stripped from them. Even from across the throne room, I see Tara flinch. But Clare holds her head up regally as they approach, and they both curtsey when they reach the dais, but I jump up and nearly tackle them.“I’m so glad you’re okay!” I don’t care that tears roll down my face while I hug them.Clare st

It’s like being struck by lightning. But in a good way. My body convulses from that single drop. My lungs heave for breath, my empty cunt clutches down on a phantom intrusion that I welcome, and I scream, racing toward a climax that will burst me apart at the seams.A climax that never comes.I never come.“What did you do?” I gasp, sweat rolling down my face as every nerve strains with the agony of need.“I told you. It’s more potent.” He moves up my writhing body to cup one of my breasts. The touch, even through the silk nightgown, should be enough to bring me over the edge, but I’m stuck. He lifts my breast free and sucks my exposed nipple into his mouth, closing his tongue over it.“Please,” I whimper, overcome by the aching want that grows stronger by the second.“The only thing they can’t quite get right,” he says, referring to the thralls that formulated the substance, “is how long it lasts.”“W-wha—”“And there’s such a long period of time before orgasm is even possible—”“Wha