Chapter 7
1097 Words
By midnight, the ballroom had begun to empty.
The formal dances were over. Guests had abandoned the dance floor for comfortable chairs, half-finished drinks, and conversations that grew louder as the night wore on. Laughter drifted through the room, the string quartet now playing softer melodies in the background.
Ivy slipped away unnoticed.
Or at least she hoped she had.
She pushed open one of the terrace doors and stepped outside.
The cold night air hit her instantly.
She closed her eyes and drew in a slow breath.
She needed this.
Needed the quiet.
Needed a few minutes when she wasn't surrounded by people—or trying not to notice Marcus every time he walked into a room.
It wasn't working.
Nothing about this week was working.
She rested her hands on the stone railing and looked out over the estate.
The gardens shimmered under the moonlight, and beyond them the forest stretched into darkness.
For the first time all evening, everything was still.
"I wondered where you'd gone."
She didn't have to turn around to know who it was.
Marcus.
His voice had already become far too familiar.
She smiled to herself before she could stop it.
"I needed a break."
"So did I."
He stepped onto the terrace, quietly closing the door behind him.
Without the jacket he'd worn to dinner, he looked... different.
Less like Alpha Hale.
More like Marcus.
His white shirt was rolled to his forearms, the top button undone, as though even he needed a moment away from everyone depending on him.
He came to stand beside her.
Close enough that she could feel his warmth in the cool night.
Not so close that anyone could call it inappropriate.
Yet.
"It's quieter out here," he said.
"I like that."
"So do I."
They fell into an easy silence.
It surprised Ivy how comfortable it felt.
A few days ago she'd barely known him.
Now silence with him felt easier than conversation with most people.
"You did well tonight."
She glanced at him.
"I spent half the evening convinced I was embarrassing myself."
"You weren't."
"I don't know pack etiquette."
"You don't have to."
"I probably made mistakes."
Marcus smiled faintly.
"So did half the people inside."
That made her laugh.
"I doubt that."
"I don't."
His smile lingered for another second before fading.
"My people noticed how respectful you were."
"You listened more than you spoke."
"You paid attention."
"That matters."
She looked away, oddly touched.
"I had good teachers."
He looked at her from the corner of his eye.
"I'll accept the compliment."
She laughed softly.
After another quiet moment, she spoke again.
"Can I ask you something?"
"You never need permission."
She hesitated.
"It's about mates."
His expression changed.
Not guarded.
Just thoughtful.
"I've heard people talking about them all week."
"I know what soulmates are supposed to be."
"But everyone talks about mate bonds like they're... different."
"They are."
Marcus rested his hands on the railing.
"For wolves, it's instinct."
"It isn't something you choose."
"When it happens..."
He searched for the words.
"...you simply know."
"Like love at first sight?"
He shook his head.
"No."
"Stronger."
"It changes you."
"You don't wake up one morning and decide to move on."
His voice became quieter.
"Not even if you lose them."
She knew he was thinking about Evelyn.
"I'm sorry."
"You don't need to apologize."
He smiled sadly.
"I was lucky enough to love her."
There was no bitterness in his voice.
Only grief.
The kind that had learned to live quietly beside him.
Ivy swallowed.
"So..."
"It could happen with anyone?"
Marcus looked at her.
"It doesn't care about age."
"Or timing."
"Or whether it makes sense."
His eyes stayed on hers.
"It certainly doesn't care what's convenient."
The words settled between them.
Neither of them moved.
Neither looked away.
"Marcus..."
His name barely left her lips.
"I know."
His voice was almost a whisper.
"I've been trying to ignore this."
"So have I."
"I keep telling myself it's wrong."
"I do too."
He let out a quiet breath.
"But every time I see you..."
He stopped.
As though saying the rest aloud would make it too real.
Very slowly...
He reached for her hand.
His fingers rested lightly over hers.
Warm.
Gentle.
She didn't pull away.
Instead, she turned her hand over beneath his until their fingers fit together naturally.
Neither of them spoke.
They didn't need to.
Everything that mattered was already there.
"I should let go."
"You should."
He didn't.
Neither did she.
"I've spent five years convincing myself that part of my life was over."
His eyes never left hers.
"And then you walked through my front door."
Her heart squeezed painfully.
"I never meant for this to happen."
"I know."
"I would never hurt Lena."
"I know."
"I love her."
"So do I."
He smiled sadly.
"That's part of the problem."
A breeze lifted a strand of hair across her face.
Without thinking, Marcus reached up and tucked it gently behind her ear.
His fingertips brushed her cheek.
Her breath caught.
He froze.
As though giving her one final chance to step away.
She didn't.
Instead...
She leaned closer.
Only a little.
Enough that she could see the tiny flecks of silver in his grey eyes.
Enough to feel his breath.
He leaned toward her too.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Not taking.
Asking.
One more inch.
"Ivy?"
Lena's voice floated through the open doorway.
Both of them jerked apart as though they'd been burned.
"I've been looking everywhere!"
Marcus stepped back immediately.
Ivy took two hurried steps toward the railing, hoping her racing heartbeat wasn't obvious.
The terrace door slid open.
"There you are."
Lena smiled, completely unaware.
"Oh."
She looked between them.
"Dad, you escaped too?"
Marcus's composure returned so quickly it almost frightened Ivy.
"I needed some air."
"So did I," Ivy added.
Lena nodded.
"Understandable."
She wrapped her shawl tighter.
"Aunt Sarah's hunting for you."
Marcus sighed.
"I suspected she would be."
"And she's terrifying when she's organizing tomorrow."
"I'll go rescue myself."
Lena laughed.
She slipped her arm through Ivy's.
"Come on."
"It's freezing out here."
As Lena led her back inside, Ivy glanced over her shoulder.
Marcus was still standing exactly where she'd left him.
Watching her.
There was regret in his eyes.
Longing.
The same unfinished ache twisting inside her own chest.
They had almost crossed a line neither of them could uncross.
And the most frightening part wasn't that they had nearly kissed.
It was that, if Lena hadn't interrupted them...
Neither of them would have stopped.
- Writer
