Chapter 98

Ansel

Ansel’s eyes flew open and chaos ensued. Filled with adrenaline, he sprang up in the bed, grabbing a masked stranger by the neck.

“Lorazepam!”

Ansel could not place where he was or what was happening. The lights were blinding and painful. Blue gloves, blue masks, and eyes of strangers encroached him, swirled over him and around him. He felt overwhelmed and attacked.

Hands pried Ansel’s hand from the neck. A dozen arms held Ansel back from flinging himself off the bed or doing further damage. Ansel felt something cold in his arm and it spread through his body.

A voice chuckled. “I think the atro-corticoid worked a little too well.”

Ansel’s fight instinct abated. His body relaxed. The glaring light dissipated and his eyes adjusted. He registered for the first time where he was. A hospital room, with whirs and beeps, white tile floor, the sound of footsteps outside in the hall, and the smell of sickness, chemical cleaners, and grief in the air. Ansel was surrounded by a concerned medical team, with all eyes on him. He felt something over his face, and tried to get it off.

“Keep that for now,” said someone in green scrubs, pulling the plastic mask back snug on Ansel’s face. “Your lungs have healed much better than expected, but let’s make sure you’re out of the woods.”

Ansel relented, letting the mask with cold, dry air fill his mouth and nose. While his body felt relaxed now, his mind felt drowsy and scattered.

“Ansel? Ansel, can you hear me?”

Karin’s voice was muffled in his head. So small, he wasn’t sure if it was real. His eyes searched the room for her.

He didn’t like it - this diffused, disorganized mind. His thoughts didn’t quite gel the way they were supposed to. If he needed to defend or protect himself, he wouldn’t be able to.

“You coded after we took you off the ventilator,” said Green Scrubs.

Ansel’s eyes wandered to the name badge on their chest. The letters were blurred. “MD” - that’s all he could catch.

“There was a complication in pulling you off the vent, but, near death aside,” Green Scrubs said wryly, “You’re doing amazing. You had surgery to remove the bullets and stop the hemorrhaging. We used an experimental treatment for muscle wasting and the silver toxin was eliminated. There’s some scarring in your lungs, and while you may not ever be 100-percent - you’re as strong as an ox.” His eyes crinkled as he seemed to smile beneath his mask.

“You have a visitor,” someone said.

The medical team filed out as Ansel’s father was wheeled in.

King David smelled of decay. He looked a million times worse than when Ansel saw him last.

“Leave us,” King David said, waving his handler away. His eyes and cheekbones seemed to pop out of his sunken face. “Thank God you’re alive.” His voice came out in a rattle.

Huh. Did he really care? But Ansel saw on his face that he did.

“You’d still have the spare,” Ansel said hoarsely, his throat burning as he spoke.

King David sighed. “He’s been worthless since the day he was born.”

“Careful,” Ansel croaked. “That’s the word you reserved for me.”

King David frowned. “But you had the spark. And look at you, you’ve pulled through this. Over these past years, you’ve nearly reshaped the Were world around you, and you will continue to. You’re the true fighter, Ansel, I’ve always known.” He twists his hands. “I don’t have much time left, son.”

Ansel stared at the whiteboard across from him. “Your Care Team… Room Number… Friday… Are You in Pain?”

“And the truth shall set you free, so sayeth the Lord.” Ansel whispered. “Amen.”

King David paused and pursed his thin lips before opening his mouth again. “They warned me your brain might be muddled. The lack of oxygen.”

And it was muddled. Muddled like hot pea soup. It was the crap they were pumping into him, making him work to think.

“I know,” Ansel said quietly, the pain raw in his throat. “I know you sent Karin away after you threatened her and her father’s lives. And I know about the spell.”

King David’s eyes widened, then narrowed. “Preposterous,” he said.

“To remake me,” Ansel said, straining to speak.

“Are you alive?” The voice was a tiny whisper in his brain.

“Like dynamite in the mountain.” Ansel’s eyes began to droop, but he fought to stay awake.

“What are you talking about?” King David’s voice snarled and his posture stiffened.

“You know,” Ansel said.

King David’s face was alight with fire. “I needed you,” he said. “I need you. I did what I had to do.”

A cart wheeled by outside. Ansel’s eyes traced the lines of tubes that weaved from the crook of his arm to the IV pole. Ansel laid his hand on his chest. It ached just a little when he tried to take a deep breath.

“Was it worth it?”

Ansel watched his father’s face. For a split second, his expression crumbled, then it hardened back into the mean shell that was so familiar to him.

King David’s eyes shone fiercely. “I was never in a position to tell you I believed you about your mother, Ansel. I knew Helga had her poisoned.”

Ansel froze. “Why?”

“Edwin’s family has been crucial to holding on to power. I’ve needed them - their connections and their control over several key packs. You know what the Were world is now. We’ve been fighting this civil war for over ten years. It’s fractious. I’ve been hanging on by a thread.”

King David coughed into his handkerchief. His shoulders shook as the cough persisted. Ansel’s finger twitched for the “call” button next to his bed, but his father finally pulled himself back together.

“You won’t,” King David said, struggling to choke out the words. “You won’t need them,” he said. “You’ve amassed enough strength. Enough power and connections, and you’re going into this a lot younger than I did.”

“Had,” Ansel said. “Before the circus.”

King David scowls. “You’ll see your way out of that bullshit, too,” he said. “And, you’ll have a great deal of wealth at your disposal. All of the riches that came through my fingers - that didn’t have to be paid out to Helga’s rotten family - I’ve saved for you. You won’t need them - and you can avenge Morrighan’s death.”

Ansel could feel the oxygen pouring from his mask, but all the same, he could barely breathe.

“She was my favorite mate, your mother.” King David sighed. “I still miss her.”

Ansel’s mind was clouded with shock and confusion. It was a side of things he’d never known, and it should be revelatory, but instead, he had trouble reconciling it with the past - with his father’s abuse and control - the ways in which he’d engineered and upended his life, and the emotional torment he’d suffered as a result.

A grand plan, formed on his behalf. A future, a destiny.

“Joke’s on you,” Ansel said in a ragged whisper.

King David’s brow wrinkled in a startled fashion.

Pictures emerged in Ansel’s mind.

Ansel and his mother, sitting at the piano. He marveled at the way her fingers flew over the keys.

His mother, blue. Slumped over and frothing at the mouth. Dead at the hands of the other mate King David had chosen to secure his power.

Ansel hiding underneath his bed. He was so scared. Would someone hurt him next? “Shut up with these delusions,” his father had snapped. No one believed him and he was alone.

Karin, clutching at her throat.

Karin, unable to hide the tears as she left him.

Any child would know: A thousand wrongs don’t make a right.

So help him, Ansel would not play the hand forced upon him.

“I won’t be who you want me to be.” As he said it, he remembered Selene’s urging words. A smile crossed his face. “I will never be King.”

King David sat in shocked silence, almost a stupor.

Ansel linked to Karin.

‘I’m okay.’

He continued to fight drowsiness, but his mind was clear. He heard Karin’s voice reverberate back to him.

‘I was so scared. I thought -’ Her voice dropped off.

‘Thankfully, I was born with nine lives,’ he said. ‘Listen, Karin, I need you to get Zara. I need TV cameras, a press release.’ He tried to float Karin a picture in his mind. Thankfully, she caught on.

Ansel tore off the mask and threw it aside. He yanked off the heart monitor, causing a ruckus on the ICU wing, as staff began to fly into his room.

“Sir, you have to -”

“Get these off of me,” Ansel shouted, pointing at the IV lines.

“I can’t. We have to have order-”

“You do it, or I do it,” Ansel said, readying his hand to start ripping them out, one by one.

“You’ve lost it,” King David said, his voice shaking.

A nurse rushed over to begin removing the IV lines and port.

“I’m going to marry her, Father,” Ansel said quietly. He waited for the King’s face to redden. Instead, all Ansel saw was defeat.

Despite the protest of his doctor and everyone around him, Ansel left as quickly as he could.

Mercifully, he found that whatever treatment he had received had, indeed, kept his body strong. Ansel refused to be wheeled out like an invalid. Trailed by a nurse and an anxious tech, he made his way down to the hospital’s main entrance and exit.

Other than the occasional sharp pain in his ribs and some mild breathlessness, he felt fine.

More than fine, he decided as he stepped out in the sunlight.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a flash of white fur.

“Ansel!” Karin shifted and threw herself in his arms so fast, he nearly tumbled over.

He laughed as he caught her. She began to laugh, too, tears pouring from her eyes. He buried his face in her.

Suzuran.

How much he’d missed her scent. Jeff was spinning out of control with glee, as excited as a puppy - jumping, squealing, wanting to lick, to nuzzle. Ansel kissed her furiously.

“Prince Ansel.”

He looked up, irritated, but unsurprised.

A half dozen news vans were pulling up. Ansel gave Karin a small wink before turning to the NBI agents.

“You’re under arrest for the murder of Dr. Ethan Woods. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to have an attorney...”

While they handcuffed him, Ansel watched Karin, who was looking on nervously. It would be agony to leave her, even briefly.

‘See you soon, Little Wolf,’ he promised, as they led him to the car, through the throng of reporters and onlookers that had gathered.

Cameras flashed. Ansel prayed for the first time in a long time. His goddess better not mind a little blasphemy.

Goddamnit, Selene, just let this work.

Chapter 99 - Before the Storm: Karin

“It’s probably as close as we’ll get to a smoking gun,” Zara says. “And it’s about to hit every news outlet from here to Timbuktu.”

Zara’s worked nothing short of a miracle. With the help of her connections, she found the boy I saw the day Ethan was killed.

I’m pacing the room. “What did you find out?”

Charles is obviously trying not to listen in, or if he is listening in, he’s trying to look covert about it. Either way, he’s failing miserably. One glance in his direction tells me he can barely focus on reprimanding the staff member who showed up late today. He finally just shoos her away.

“He’s only seven,” Zara says, sympathetically. “And he was scared to talk about what happened, but thankfully, he did open up. He was out riding his bike that day. Dr. Woods swerved to keep from hitting him and lost control of his vehicle.”

Despite the tragedy of it, some relief washes over me, knowing it could help Ansel. The coverage takes off. Charles and I, along with half the servants at the manor, stay fixed to the news.

Night begins to fall and the manor staff leave for their homes, except for the three who will be here overnight.

Charles busies himself with tidying the front entrance.

“You should head home, too,” I say.

“Flora didn’t clean this room today,” Charles says. “She dragged herself in quite late, and rather hungover,” he sniffs. “I’ll be here for a couple hours more.”

“I can help.”

“No, no, Lady Karin. I’ll see to it. I could assign it to the overnight staff, but… I’d like to wait to see Sir Ansel,” he says. He shrugs and continues his dusting. “So, I might as well get the job done myself.”

The bit of emotion he can’t hide on his face puts a hitch in my throat. I tell him goodnight and walk up the staircase to wait for Ansel in his bedroom.

The arraignment was hours ago and I know from the news that he immediately posted bail. Not wanting to interrupt anything important, I suppress the urge to mindlink with him.

I pick up a book on the bedside table Ansel’s been reading. The sound of the bedroom door opening startles me. I slam the book closed and drop it on the bed.

Ansel looks at me quizzically from the doorway. “That’s not the reaction I was expecting.” The edge of his mouth goes up at the corner, like he’s suppressing a smile.

He’s wearing a suit and tie, which I guess his attorney took to him for the arraignment. It makes my stomach flutter to see him looking like his normal, Ansel-self.

My first reaction is Ada’s. She wants me to fall immediately into his arms. Almost as immediately, I curb her instinct and hold back - ready to close-off in timidity. As much love as we feel for each other, I’m nervous about being back here at the manor with him, alone in his bedroom for the first time since we broke up.

Dreams aren’t real life. In real life, everything unraveled.

I should tip-toe back in. I should be sure.

To hell with it.

Ada gives me an internal shove and I fling myself at him.

He wraps me up in his arms and I breathe in his gin and cedar scent. The yellow light from the lamp casts our shadows against the wall.

“That’s more like it,” he says, kissing me.

We’re intertwined. His fingers are tangled in my hair. My arms are around his neck. He sucks my top lip and then my tongue. I push my groin against his, feeling his arousal. I loosen his tie. He chunks it off and begins unbuttoning my blouse. I keep kissing him and grind against his erection. He loses patience with the buttons and just rips off my blouse.

“I’ll replace that,” he says, voice husky and desperate, as he’s tearing at my bra.

He squeezes my breasts and I kiss his neck while he guides me to the bed. He shoves me down and tears off his own shirt. He slips his fingers up my skirt with one hand, while the other works on getting my skirt off. I frantically unbuckle his belt, unbutton, and unzip his pants. My hand finds his hardened member and I begin pulling on it in a jerking motion. He inhales sharply from the pleasure of it, but then winces.

I pause. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m fine,” he says, yanking my skirt off in one motion.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No. It’s my lungs,” he says.

That alarms me, but I don’t have time to ponder it for long. He practically shreds my underwear and leans in to start kissing me again.

He’s fingering me and trying to kick off his pants at the same time when his phone rings.

It’s torture to stop. I lay still, trying to catch my breath.

He swears loudly, and pulls it out of his pocket. He looks down at who’s calling, and then slams it down firmly against the bedside table.

He throws off his pants and pulls off his underwear. I reach over and grip my hand up and down the length of his phallus. He moans when I start rubbing the shaft.

The phone rings again.

“Fuck off, Dylan,” Ansel growls. He grabs the phone and pitches it.

We hear it smash against the wall. I wrap my legs up around him, bringing them up high, and groan when he penetrates me.

Ansel’s phone goes off again. He sighs angrily. I grip his shoulders and he continues to thrust, but his eyes are fiery.

“Why didn’t I just turn the fucking thing off?” His chest is heaving as he fucks me and he winces again.

Although it’s aching to stop, I loosen my legs from around him. “Just get it and put it on silent.” I kiss him and our lips linger, but the phone won’t stop. He breaks apart from me and marches over to it.

“Goddamn it,” he says. He runs his thumb over it, pushing and swiping, while it rings continuously. “It’s crushed into smithereens and the screen is totally black and -” The phone stops.

“Ansel?”

We both hear a male voice on the phone line.

Ansel groans. He puts his phone to his ear and comes back to sit on the edge of the bed. I pull the sheet over me, waiting while he talks. He manages to keep the irritation out of his voice. He leans over and rakes his hand through his hair. Then, he begins to calm, and he lets his hand rest against my thigh, instead.

It’s quiet domesticity, in this darkened room with Ansel, but the anxiety starts to creep back. There are a million things left unresolved, and any one of those things could destroy our reprieve. I can’t settle into a happily ever after yet.

“I will,” Ansel says to the caller, but glancing at me. “My attorney,” he tells me, putting the phone back down onto the table. “They dropped the charges.”

I sit up. “Because of the information that came out - about the boy?”

Ansel nods. “I think there were some other things, too, but that was the major piece, yeah.”

He lifts my chin to kiss me. It’s short and chaste, but it makes my heart skip a beat. “That’s from Dylan, my lawyer,” he says with a smile. “For saving the day.”

“Don’t leave Zara out.” I immediately blush. “Uh, hopefully not with a kiss.”

“Hmm, I was thinking more about a raise for her,” Ansel says, scratching his chin with a teasing, faux-perplexed look on his face. “This one’s from me.” He leans in and kisses me gently at first, then more deeply. The burning heat of desire quickly rekindles.

“Mmm.” I jerk back. “Wait.”

“What?”

“What about everything else?”

Ansel sits up straighter.

Ada is ready to pummel me for derailing the sex, but I press on.

“Charles said no one’s seen Henry since this morning,” I say. “Not since they found out you were leaving the hospital. I don’t think Maggie knows anything at all. She left before I got here, but Charles said it was at her scheduled time.”

I clench my fists. “And your brother, too. Do the police know what he and Henry did?” My heart’s marching double-time in my chest.

“They know,” Ansel says. “I was interviewed today. It was enough that there’s a warrant out for Henry’s arrest. Also, I alerted my gammas to be on the look-out for him. I don’t know about Edwin. A dream about his involvement isn’t exactly a ‘probable cause,’ but I think he’ll be investigated. We’ll see what Henry tells them when he’s brought in.”

I look down at my hands in my lap. “I’m worried about Maggie. I don’t know how to help her.” I bite my lip and look up at Ansel.

“I wish I had the answer,” he says. He leans back against the headboard beside me and stares across the room.

“I’m kind of surprised you’re handling things this way - going the ‘official route,’ instead of, you know...”

“Of course, I considered violent retribution. It wouldn’t actually be retribution. It would be defense - to protect you, and me, and those loyal to us.”

He crosses his arms and turns his head over towards me. “I made a decision today,” he says.

“About what?”

“Karin, I was still in your dream with you, when you were reliving what happened with my father - the gag spell, all that bullshit.”

I open my mouth.

“Don’t try to confirm it,” Ansel says. “I know you can’t.” His mouth is hardened in a determined line. “I don’t want anything to do with him, and I don’t want to be like him. So, I decided… whatever it takes, I’m going to win the election.”

I offer a smile. “I think you will, even without an heir. You’re crushing Edwin in the polls.”

“I’m fairly positive the whole election is just a scheme Edwin devised to figure out a way to become King. All this time, I haven’t been wholehearted in wanting to win, but I had kind of a spiritual experience a while back - also in a dream, believe it or not.”

I grab his hand.

“Hopefully this doesn’t sound too laughable.”

“Laughable?”

“The thing is, it’s an election. An actual, goddamned, election.” He squeezes my hand. “Maybe things have been leading this way for a reason. I realized, I can make things different. There’s a lot I feel like I can’t forsake. I have to help your dad, and Doc, and no one like Edwin should ever be in power. But also,” he pauses before looking straight into my eyes. “I don’t have to fall in line with what my dad wanted for me.”

I’m watching Ansel’s eyes sparkle. I tilt my head. “President Ansel Shaw?”

“What do you think?” He furrows his brow. “I’m afraid your rainbow unicorn brain infected mine with idealism.”

I laugh, but something occurs to me. “Hang on. So, you’re not going to go after them because… because it’s not democratic?”

He purses his lips. “I don’t want to jeopardize the election with some brand new controversy because I’ve killed or maimed my beta. In Edwin’s case, yeah, I don’t know if it’s the best setup for things, you know? The whole point is that the Werewolf world now gets some say. If he’s dead, there’s no choosing. But it’s a lot more complicated than that, or, to be frank, I would have choked him to death the day after the ball.”

I move closer to Ansel and put my head on his chest. He wraps his arm around me.

“Plus, I don’t really just murder people, despite what you think. I mean, not without cause.”

“Sometimes people just need to die.”

He chuckles. “Did my brain influence yours?”

“It’s possible,” I say, looking up at him.

“I hope not too much.” He leans his head down to kiss me.

I want to melt into him, but then Ansel goes rigid.

“Stay here,” he says, getting up and throwing his pants back on. His button-down is in tatters, so he slips on just his undershirt.

“Why?”

My question is answered by a “boom.” It’s the sound of a door being kicked in downstairs.