“Bailey and I won’t change. We’ll remain here, under guard, at Aconitum Hall,” Nathan declares, and my heart sinks. I’ve gotten to be in my werewolf form once. Just one time. I was looking forward to transforming again.But Nathan’s right and I can pout about it later. We will be more vulnerable in a dark forest with potential traitors.“That will keep the two of you safe, but what about the rest of the pack?” Hannah argues. “Two werewolves have failed in their attempts to kill you, the objects of the thralls’ spells. The thralls know about it. So, who’s to say that they’ll even allow us to turn? We’re interfering in something they thought they’d kept secret. They could easily poison us, trap us, do anything to us when we set foot on that ceremonial ground.”“If all of us stayed home, they’d get suspicious,” Ryan says. “Maybe they’d believe we were against them.”“Aren’t we?” I ask. “They’re working magic on us against our will, without our knowledge or consent. They’re working agains
We plan furiously, and fast. Xiao secures a location, a tiny cabin that’s way off the grid in Manitoba. We’ll be isolated from the world, but most importantly, from the pack; they don’t know that our thralls have hideouts all over Canada.Even though she only has to make a few calls, we decide not to chance letting anyone know that we’re leaving. Yet again, we’re bugging out. We’re leaving our kingdom because our subjects want us dead.It’s almost midnight when Nathan and I go to my bedroom, and I start hauling out all my luggage.“You don’t have to pack tonight,” he says gently.I don’t look at him. “I don’t have to. But I’m going to.”“You’ll tire yourself out. We’ll have a long drive tomorrow.”I shake my head. “Then I can sleep on the drive.”Nathan comes to my side and puts his hand on my arm. “Bailey… don’t do this to yourself.”“Don’t do what?” I snap. “Take anything with me to fucking Manitoba? Just resign myself to dying in the wilderness, ripped apart by polar bears?”He doe
I can’t believe I did it.Brushing my fingertips over the indentations of my words on the paper, I try to remember how I felt when I wrote them. Vague ideas like “exhilarated” and “terrified” come to me, but I can’t experience that day again, no matter how hard I imagine.It was the day my life completely changed. The day I invoked the right to leave our pack and live a mortal life for five years, instead of simply accepting the transformation and becoming a full werewolf.The intercom chimed its gentle breakfast announcement and I put my old diary back in the bedside drawer, where it’s awaited my return for the past five years. But I’m not the seventeen-year-old I was when I left. I’m a grown-up stranger in that girl’s bedroom, with its soft pink canopy bed curtains and gleaming white furniture.You just got home, I remind myself. Give it time.I go to the vanity where I spent so many teenage hours practicing my eyeliner skills and contouring my face to Kardashian perfection. Things
Toronto has no shortage of impressive houses, but Aconitum Hall is in a class of its own. Built long before the skyscrapers and urban planning, the city has crept up to the mansion’s tower walls and tiered gardens, preserving it as a fairytale castle out of time. And since the very first stone was set into the foundation, it’s been the traditional home of our pack leader.It’s Buckingham Palace but packed full of werewolves.But it doesn’t look much like the Queen’s house. Aconitum Hall was built in early gothic revival style, which I know only from taking the tour more than once on school trips. It could easily be mistaken for a cathedral at first glance. There are spires on some of the conical tower roofs and a ton of gargoyles. Two of them leer down at us through the sunroof of the car as we pull beneath the porte cochere.“First, we’re received by the king. When everyone has arrived, dinner will be served,” Mother repeats for me, as if I somehow forgot on the drive. “After that, d
"Mother, head down, nudges me and I remember to curtsey, wobbling a little. I can’t blame it all on being out of practice. The new king is so handsome he’s knocked the wind out of me.“Rise,” the new king says, and his accent makes me homesick for London. “Do you remain faithful to the pack?”I keep my eyes downcast as the three of us answer the ritual question. “Yes, my king and my pack leader.”“And do you submit to the word of your king and pack leader?”I can’t help but glance up, and heat floods my face as I find he’s looking at me while the three of us respond. When I tear my gaze quickly away, I still feel his willing me to meet it again. There’s a confidence about him that has nothing to do with his position, an aura that fills the space between us and makes the air heavy as I breathe it into my lungs.“Yes, my king and my pack leader,” squeaks from my throat. I can barely catch my breath; I wonder how many people have passed out in front of him.“Do you surrender your will fo
“Not everyone,” Clare whispers, nodding toward a table near ours, but I don’t recognize any of the people seated at it. Our way of life doesn’t allow me to overlook them; I memorize who is seated near whom, taking in every face.“Oh, look,” Mother announces suddenly as a thrall waiter approaches. “Dessert.”Tara shoots me an expression that promises we’ll talk later.And we do. After dinner becomes drinks and dancing, my sisters and I leave for the restroom and “get lost” along the way, stepping into a windowed alcove to talk, unencumbered by their mates.“Look, Mother doesn’t want to talk about it and Father will never admit it, but Greater London is occupying the Toronto pack. King Victor made a huge mistake by taking his children out of the line of succession before securing a new heir.”“But why did the pack depose him? Because they didn’t like who he married?” Such a thing is unheard of in modern times.“Because he knew she had illegal dealings with the Manhattan pack,” Tara expl
He hugs me so tightly, I almost can’t breathe; his arms are rock hard at my back. Leaning down close, he says softly, “I was so afraid you wouldn’t come back.”Alarm bells go off in my mind. I step back from him and tilt my head, pretending to check my immovable hairdo to avoid looking him in the eye.“You’ve been gone for five years,” he says, suddenly pragmatic. “You might not feel the same way toward me that you did before you left.”How do you know what I felt for you? I almost snap.My memory drifts back to the day he knocked on my bedroom door, startling me with his presence in my house, startling me more with the announcement that my father signed a mating pact. Ashton and I barely knew each other; though we were both educated at the private academy all children of the Toronto pack attend, we weren’t friends. We barely spoke to each other before he approached my father.To this day, I’m still not sure what Ashton truly sought from our engagement. Maybe it was a rash decision ma
Nathaniel Frost, King of the Toronto pack, guides me smoothly from my fiancé’s side. It’s that easy for him to simply overwhelm me and render me helpless. It’s dizzying, almost exhilarating, definitely terrifying.“I haven’t tangoed often,” I manage to warn him as he pulls me far too close.“It isn’t my strong suit, either,” he quips, though his feet prove he’s lying as they somehow manage to avoid my clumsy ones. “Don’t expect any dips or fancy footwork.”I snort; I can’t help myself. “With all due respect, Your Majesty, that’s about ninety percent of the tango.”“You’re wrong,” he informs me. “And while we’re dancing, call me Nathan.”My mouth drops open. I quickly compose myself and try to shock my brain into remembering what, exactly, my body should be doing. Step, step, step, close. Step, step, step, close. Maybe all those dance lessons Mother forced us to take really were a practical choice. If Vivianne Dixon ever imagined that her daughter would be tangoing with the Pack Leader