Chapter 15: Her
1951 Words
RAYMOND'S POV
The hospital air always carried a strange weight—like the walls remembered every goodbye ever whispered between breaths and beeping machines.
I stood at the entrance. Ivy’s father had just embraced her, her mother sitting up slightly in bed, pale but stronger. I waited beside her, hands tucked in my coat pockets, trying not to intrude on what I knew was a final moment—for now.
“I’ll be okay, Mom,” Ivy whispered.
Her mother reached up, brushing her hair back. “No. You’ll be *great.* You were born for this.”
She looked past Ivy, eyes locking on mine. “Take care of her.”
I gave her a solemn nod. “With everything I have.”
IVY'S POV
Only then did I let myself exhale.
Raymond turned me to face him, his gaze searching mine. “You okay?”
I nodded slowly. “No. But I will be.”
His thumb brushed my wrist. “We’ve got answers now. That’s something.”
“Yeah.” I looked up at him. “You heard all of it?”
“All of it.”
“And… you still want to be tied to all of this? To me?”
His brow lifted slightly. “Ivy Quinn. You were never *just* part of this. You *are* this.”
I smirked. “That’s dangerously poetic.”
He leaned in, his lips near my ear. “Comes with the fangs.”
I laughed softly.
But beneath that laugh was something real. Powerful.
I’d just found out that my best friend was my cousin, that my mother had a twin, that I was descended from one of the most powerful supernatural lines in history—and that my blood was now one-third of a ritual that could either save or destroy us all.
And yet… for the first time, I didn’t feel alone.
———
RAYMOND'S POV
———
A moment later, Ivy stepped away, wiping her cheeks with the sleeve of her jacket. We said our quiet goodbyes, and I guided her to the car, Grey had lended us earlier.
The city air was cool against our skin as we stepped into the black Chrysler jeep. Ivy hadn’t said a word since we got in. She stared out the window, her fingers nervously picking at the hem of her coat.
I didn’t rush her.
I waited.
Halfway through the city, she finally spoke.
“She’s my cousin,” Ivy whispered.
I glanced at her. Her eyes didn’t move from the window.
“Jade… she’s my cousin. All this time. My blood.”
I nodded, hands steady on the wheel.
“That makes me the third one,” she said, turning to me. “The third Diego needs.”
“Yes.”
“At least we know now. Before he does.”
Silence stretched again.
Then, almost shyly, she said, “Raymond?”
“Yeah?”
“This mate thing… what’s it like?”
A question I never imagined myself answering, but now I have to.
“Its the Moon Goddess's way of matching most Supernaturals particularly Werewolves, You have a mate and the mate has you, sometimes your mate might die or marry a human, then you are given a second chance mate” I explained.
“But isn't that someone else's mate?”
“Most times, but sometimes are rejected and given to the others”
The second she said it—*“I could still reject you, you know”*—I felt something flare deep in my chest.
A warning.
A challenge.
A gut-punch straight to my pride and soul.
I didn’t say a word. Just pulled the car to the side of the road and parked. Somewhere quiet. Somewhere far enough from the world that I could *breathe* again.
I turned to her.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Her face was calm—on the outside—but I could see the storm in her eyes. The fear. The ache. The question she didn’t want to ask.
*“Ivy Quinn,”* I said, my voice low and edged, *“don’t you dare reject me.”*
“What if I do?”
The second Ivy said it—eyes locked on mine, voice daring, soft but unyielding—I stopped breathing. Something in me snapped— not rage.
Her threat to reject me wasn’t just words. It was a blade she didn’t even know she was holding to my throat.
And yet… all I could think was how badly I wanted to kiss her.
So I did.
No hesitation.
No games.
I leaned in and kissed her—not like some brooding Alpha with something to prove, but like a man who had already lost too much, and refused to lose any more.
In *need*.
I leaned forward and kissed her. Not hard. Not possessive.
Slow. Certain.
And gods… she kissed me back.
Her lips were soft and warm, parting slowly under mine, like she hadn’t expected it—but wasn’t stopping it either.
The moment her lips met mine again, everything in me stilled.
Ivy wasn’t just mine. She’d always been *meant* for me. I felt it in every brush of her mouth, every soft sigh into the kiss. Her body moved like it already knew mine.
And then she moved.
One second she was in her seat, the next, she climbed onto my lap, straddling me in one smooth, perfect, maddening motion. Her hands slid around my neck, and suddenly my world tilted on its axis, when she climbed onto my lap.
I almost lost it.
Her legs slid over me, arms wrapped around my neck. Every part of her was flush against me—her chest pressed to mine, thighs wrapped around my waist, her breath warm against my mouth as she kissed me back with a fire that made me forget we were parked on the side of the damn road.
My left hand found her waist, then her hip, and I held her like I was afraid she'd disappear. My right hand lifted to her face, gently brushing her hair back behind her ear, needing to see all of her, to memorize it all, fingers lingering at her jaw.
She was soft and fierce, sugar and venom, and completely mine.
And when she kissed me deeper—like she wanted to burn every memory of pain away—I nearly lost control.
But I didn’t rush.
Because this wasn’t about lust. Not entirely.
It was something more.
Something ancient and binding, something that had *always* been between us—before we even knew it.
Her fingers curled into my shirt. Her hips shifted. My name escaped her lips in a whisper.
I leaned back just enough to look at her—hair tousled, lips kiss-swollen, breath shaky.
“You don’t get to reject me,” I said again, lower this time. “Because I already chose you.”
Her eyes met mine. Defiant. Vulnerable. Beautiful.
“You’re really annoying when you’re right,” she muttered.
I smirked. “Then you’d better get used to it, Luna.”
She flushed, but didn’t look away.
Didn’t climb off.
Her lips burned me in the best way.
But the way she *looked* at me when we broke apart?
That did more damage than any blade ever could.
She stayed right there in my arms, like she finally understood what I’d known since the day I saw her eyes in that vision.
This woman was mine.
Not to control.
But to protect. To honor. To fight beside.
My Luna.
My equal.
My curse and my miracle.
And when we finally sat in silence again—her fingers still brushing against the back of my neck, her body still wrapped in mine—it wasn’t just passion anymore.
It was peace.
The kind I hadn’t known in centuries.
——–
IVY'S POV
City lights blurred past as Raymond drove, jaw tight, eyes locked on the road—but I could feel the storm brewing just under his skin. It mirrored mine. Everything my mother said, everything I now *knew* about my bloodline, Jade, the ritual—it all pulsed between us like lightning waiting to strike.
Then I said it.
“I could still reject you, you know.”
His hands tightened slightly on the wheel.
He didn’t speak.
Didn’t blink.
He just pulled over.
The tires crunched softly along the edge of the road as the car rolled to a stop beneath the hush of swaying trees. The city felt distant here—silent. Like it had the decency to look away.
He turned to me, eyes dark, voice low.
*“Ivy Quinn, don’t you dare reject me.”*
I arched a brow, but my heart was pounding. “What if I do?”
His eyes searched mine. A breath passed. Two.
Then he leaned in and kissed me.
Not rough. Not rushed.
Just… slow. Sure. Sweet. Like he *knew* I would kiss him back.
And he was right.
Because the second his lips touched mine, everything else vanished. The war, the prophecy, the fear—I sank into him like he was the only truth I’d ever known.
I didn’t even realize I’d moved until I was on his lap, straddling him, my hands tangled in the collar of his shirt. His arms wrapped around me without hesitation, his left hand gripping my waist, sliding along my hip like he knew every part of me already.
His right hand rose, fingers brushing gently through my hair, pushing it back behind my ear. The tenderness of it made me shiver.
“Raymond…” I whispered against his lips.
But He didn’t let me finish.
He kissed me again—deeper this time. My fingers curled in his hair. His mouth moved with mine like we were syncing something older than words. Like maybe we had kissed in another life. A hundred times.
A thousand.
My hips shifted, instinctive, pulling a groan from his throat that made heat coil low in my stomach.
He broke the kiss only long enough to press his forehead against mine. “You don’t get to reject me,” he breathed. “Because I already chose you.”
I swallowed. “You’re really annoying when you’re right.”
He smiled. “Then get used to it, Luna.”
I rested my forehead against his. “Say it again.”
His hands slid up my back, slow and reverent. “You’re mine, Ivy Quinn.”
I grinned.
RAYMOND'S POV
She rested her forehead against mine. “Say it again.”
My hands slid up her back, slow and reverent. “You’re mine, Ivy Quinn.”
She grinned. “You skipped the Luna part.”
My mouth brushed her jaw. “I’ll whisper it later.”
“You’re impossible.”
“You climbed into my lap.”
She pulled back just enough to look me in the eyes. “Yeah… because you were being an emotionally repressed Alpha Vamp.”
I chuckled—low, deep, unguarded. “I can’t help it. You make me crazy.”
“Same.”
Her fingers grazed the back of my neck, and She kissed me again. Softer now. Slower.
This time there wasn’t fire.
There was something else.
Something… terrifying.
Because I think I might’ve actually fallen for this beauty queen.
When we finally broke apart, breathless and flushed, I helped,she settled back in her seat, my body still ached for her—but my mind was clearer than ever.
Ivy wasn't just a prophecy.
She was the future.
My future.
The drive back to Hart Manor was quiet.
- Writer
