Maisie

I walked back to my bedroom and stared at the mirror for a long time.

My fingers ran across my face, through my hair as I tried really hard to understand just how I’d reached this point. The point where looking back at my reflection in the mirror had become difficult.

Who was Maisie Adams?

I was the girl who hadn’t been given a single day to mourn her parents before being handed a mopping stick at twelve years old and told that was who I was and all I could ever be.

You do not have the luxury to dream, Maisie Adams. Take what I give you and be grateful for it.

I was the girl who refused to accept that reality. I was the girl who fought her bullies, scrubbed her fingers raw until they bled, and still got the perfect scores. And got into Greymoor.

I was my own woman. Had always been.

And then I had come to this house.

And I had gotten so lost chasing an idea of something that didn’t exist that I completely forgot who I was. To the point where I, who had fought tooth and nail to get out of servitude in the Night Shade Pack, was now happily mopping the floors of this mansion.

When exactly had I traded one hell for another?

When had I decided that mattering to them was the measure of whether I mattered at all?

I might not have been beautiful or perfectly poised like Tessa or Lana. But those had never been my strengths anyway. My strength had always been my mind. It had never mattered what direction my stupid, bleeding heart tugged me towards.

My mind was my own.

And maybe I was in danger leaving this place and the protection of these men. But I was in an even graver danger staying.

The danger of losing sense of who I was.

I went straight for the dresser and grabbed the only thing I owned in this entire house—the dress I’d come here with the night I was accused of working with the rogues—and I shimmied into it.

It barely fit my new body. But it was mine.

I took all the things the Lycans had ever gotten me out of the dresser. I walked over to the front on the mansion dragging them behind me. Dumped them at the front steps. Dragged over in my ball gown to the garage. Took a keg of gasoline. Doused it over the clothes. The shoes. The bags. All the while humming "Pretty Little Psycho" calmly under my breath.

And then, I set the heap on fire.

I looked up and saw Soren and Jericho watching me from the window, their reflections flickering in the blaze.

I smiled.

Then I raised both middle fingers and held them high.

I thought I saw a flash of dark amusement in both their gazes, right before I turned around, hefted up my ball gown and left the mansion.

****

Every student in Greymoor was assembled in the school’s Grand Hall, packed wall-to-wall with students. The usual morning chatter was louder than normal, buzzing with barely-contained excitement.

It’d been four days since I left the mansion and it was exactly one day before The Wedding.

Admittedly, showing up to the hallways of Greymoor’s lodgings in a ball gown and rat’s nest of hair had to be the highlight of everyone’s week. Someone had taken a photo of me in the hallway at four in the morning and plastered it on the school board with the hashtag, #UNHINGEDEX.

I wasn’t even mad.

That, along with the videos circulating the internet of me gyrating on the stripping pole, and I totally understood why they’d think I was crazy and why Counsellor Vesper had stopped me in the school hallway three days ago and asked if I wanted to talk about my mental state.

Either way, I was slumming it with Regina—she was fighting with her parents again and every time that happened, she crashed at her room at school—and it had been a blissful three days of doing everything but talk about the Lycans. Or the wedding. Or why I left.

My head felt clearer than it had in days and I was eager to keep it that way. Every day I ran into the Lycans in the hallways or Cafeteria, I blatantly ignored them.

I channeled all of my energy and focus into fixing my grades. I’d had five make up tests in the last two days and somehow, I redid my term paper in that time, too.

Mrs. Belarus had explicitly told me she wouldn’t take it. But I forced it down her throat anyway, with an entire bag of organic handmade cookies.

We were best of friends now.

I didn’t have it all figured out. I still dreamt of them every night. In the moments when the entire day came to a halt and I closed my eyes, I saw them. I still felt the pang in my chest.

But I treated it as an inconvenience I was determined to get rid of.

And considering my mean streak of always accomplishing whatever goals I set out to do, I knew I would succeed.

Eventually.

Headmistress Atlas stepped onto the raised platform, her posture impeccable, silver- hair swept into a flawless chignon. The room quieted instantly.

"Students of Greymoor," she began, her voice carrying through the hall without need for a microphone. "Tomorrow marks a historic occasion. We have been graciously invited to witness the union of Crown Prince Soren Black and his triad with Lady Tessa Graham."

A ripple of thrilled whispers swept through the crowd. Someone near the back actually squealed.

Regina’s fingers slipped into mine. Jenny took my other hand. They thought I needed emotional support, but I was nervous for a completely different reason.

This morning, I had opened my jotter and an envelope that hadn’t been there when I went to bed last night had fallen out of it.

I had recognized the rich scent of Mercer’s cologne on the crisp edges, and my heart had squeezed tightly as I wondered how in the hell he had gotten the envelope into my jotter in the first place.

Had he snuck into Regina’s bedroom while I was asleep? No. That was way too creepy.

I had taken out the note from it and froze.

It was an invitation letter.

My heart began hammering in my chest, the letters merging into one. Surely, they wouldn’t be so cruel.

But when I stared closely at the letter, I realized I was wrong, and it was in fact, not an invitation to their wedding.

It wasn’t even an invitation at all.

It was an official summons letter. From the Lycan Queen herself. My name was boldly written on it.

I had known it would come at some point, but that didn’t stop me from freaking the heck out.

I tuned back in to see Atlas give a small, proud smile on her lips. "Transportation has been arranged for all students. General attendees will depart via luxury coach buses at 12:00 PM sharp. The journey will take approximately five hours. Accommodation has been prepared for you at the Royal Lycan Estate’s guest pavilions. Dinner and breakfast will be provided."

Soft gasps of delight filled the air.

"We’re staying in the actual royal pavilions? Do you think we’ll see the Queen? Oh my god, what if we get to go to the after-party? I heard from a friend that there’s always a bonfire! It’s pretty private, but I would totally sneak in if I got the chance!" Someone squealed behind me.

My stomach cramped again with nerves.

Regina rolled her eyes. "Like they would want you to be a part of it."

I bumped my shoulder into hers and arched a brow. She was uncharacteristically grouchy this morning.

Jenny leaned in and whispered, "Beta Braxton’s trying to break her up from Nick again. Since the engagement with Lana didn’t fall through, they’re trying to ship her off to Derek Holt, the Red Wolf Pack’s Alpha Heir—"

"I can hear you," Regina growled in irritation. Then she sniffled. "I guess what makes me more pissed is the fact that Nick isn’t even trying to stand up to my father." Her eyes lifted to mine. "Why do I keep fighting for people who won’t fight for me?"

Ignoring the announcements, I squeezed Regina’s hand. "If Nick is too blind to see that you’re worth fighting for, then it’s his loss for being a coward. And we’ll go set fire to Derek Holt’s car or something. Wouldn’t be the first time we convinced anyone you’re not do-as-I-say wife material."

Her lips trembled and her nose reddened. "I don’t think I can get out of this one, May. It’s in the talks."

"Should we elope instead? Me and you? We’ll get married and buy a litter of cats and leave this damned city behind."

Jenny pinched my arm. "And leave me behind? Hell no."

Regina started laughing, then stopped abruptly when she caught Atlas shooting her a death glare from the podium. "Yikes. Can never get used to that face."

Atlas’s tone had grown serious. "Greymoor Academy is a place of prestige. You represent not only this institution, but the future of our society. I expect flawless decorum. You will show the utmost respect to Her Majesty the Queen and the entire Lycan Court. Any inappropriate behavior will be met with severe consequences upon our return. This may look like a vacation, but in truth, you will be evaluated."

A beat of silence.

Then she smiled again, eyes gleaming with pride. "That being said... enjoy this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Not many are privileged enough to witness royal Lycan nuptials. Make Greymoor proud."