Chapter 1
1043 Words
Ivy Marsh had one rule whenever she came to Lena Hale's house.
Don't stare at Lena's dad.
It had never been difficult before.
Marcus Hale was almost never around. By the time Ivy visited after classes or on weekends, he was usually locked away in meetings, inspecting borders, or dealing with whatever problems came with leading one of the strongest packs in the region. To Ivy, he was more of a legend than a person—someone she knew through framed family photos, the occasional glimpse from across a hallway, and Lena's endless complaints.
"Dad forgot dinner again."
"Dad's still working."
"Dad thinks sleep is optional."
That was Marcus Hale.
Busy. Distant. Untouchable.
Which was exactly why Ivy had never worried about him.
She stepped through the grand front doors that Friday evening with an overnight bag digging into one shoulder and a garment bag hanging from the other.
"Lena?" she called.
No answer.
Instead, a man's voice drifted from the foyer.
"I've already made my decision."
The voice was calm, but there was steel beneath it.
"I don't care what the Ashford pack wants. Tell them I'll meet them at the border tomorrow morning."
Ivy stopped walking.
Marcus Hale stood only a few feet away.
He had a phone pressed against one ear, his white shirt rolled to his forearms, exposing tanned skin and powerful muscles marked with old scars that looked years older than she was. His dark hair had begun to gray at the temples, but somehow it only made him look more commanding.
He wasn't simply tall.
He carried himself like the entire house belonged to him.
Like the world did.
He ended the call and slipped the phone into his pocket before turning toward her.
Their eyes met.
For a brief moment, neither of them spoke.
His gaze settled on her quietly, taking her in without rushing.
"You must be Ivy."
His voice was even deeper without the phone between them.
"Lena talks about you."
Ivy suddenly forgot how to breathe.
"I... hope that's a good thing."
A faint smile touched his mouth.
"Most days."
She laughed before she could stop herself.
"So there are bad days?"
"Only when you encourage her."
The dry humor caught her off guard.
"I don't think I deserve all the blame."
"I'll have to investigate before deciding."
His expression barely changed, but there was warmth beneath the words.
It surprised her.
She had imagined someone colder.
Someone harder.
Instead...
He was intimidating, yes.
But there was something quietly tired about him too.
"I heard you're staying for the holiday," he said.
"If that's alright."
"My parents are overseas, and Lena practically refused to let me spend Christmas alone."
"That sounds like my daughter."
There was genuine affection in his voice this time.
"Lena rarely accepts no for an answer."
"That's putting it nicely."
He gave the smallest nod.
"I hope you feel at home here."
Something about the simple sentence felt strangely personal.
Before Ivy could answer, footsteps thundered down the hallway.
"Ivy!"
Lena appeared like a whirlwind, throwing her arms around her.
"You're here!"
She pulled back dramatically before looking between them.
"Oh no."
"What?" Ivy asked.
"My dad already gave you the Alpha interview, didn't he?"
Marcus looked completely unbothered.
"I was welcoming your guest."
"You interrogate people as a hobby."
"I ask questions."
"You stare until people confess crimes they didn't commit."
A tiny smile appeared on Marcus's face.
"I've found it to be effective."
Lena groaned.
"See what I live with?"
Ivy laughed.
"He wasn't that scary."
"Give it time."
Marcus shook his head.
"I'll leave the two of you to it."
He looked back at Ivy for a second.
"If you need anything, let one of the staff know."
"Thank you."
He inclined his head and walked away.
He didn't rush.
He didn't need to.
The house seemed to shift around him as he disappeared down the hallway toward his study.
Only after he was gone did Ivy realize she'd been watching him leave.
"...Ivy?"
She blinked.
"What?"
Lena grinned.
"You totally zoned out."
"I did not."
"You absolutely did."
"I was just..."
She searched for an excuse.
"...thinking."
"Mhm."
Lena linked their arms together and pulled her upstairs.
"My dad does that to people."
"What?"
"The whole silent Alpha thing."
"It's honestly annoying."
"I've had friends forget their own names after meeting him."
Ivy forced herself to laugh.
"I can see why."
The guest room was exactly as she remembered—warm, spacious, with large windows overlooking the forest beyond the estate.
While Lena excitedly talked about the upcoming holiday gathering, Ivy unpacked automatically, only half listening.
Her thoughts kept drifting back downstairs.
To the way Marcus had looked at her.
Not inappropriately.
Not even openly curious.
Just... attentive.
Like he genuinely saw her.
It shouldn't matter.
He was Lena's father.
He was at least twice her age.
He'd lost his mate years ago and, according to Lena, had never even looked at another woman since.
He was an Alpha.
A widower.
A man carrying responsibilities Ivy couldn't even imagine.
And she was...
Twenty-two.
A university graduate still trying to figure out what came next.
They lived in completely different worlds.
There was nothing to think about.
Nothing.
That night, after everyone had gone to bed, Ivy lay awake beneath unfamiliar blankets, staring at the ceiling.
The mansion had its own nighttime sounds.
The distant creak of old wood.
Wind brushing against tall windows.
Somewhere down the hall, a door opened.
Then closed.
His study, probably.
Lena had once told her Marcus often worked until sunrise whenever pack business became overwhelming.
She rolled onto her side.
This was ridiculous.
She barely knew the man.
One polite conversation shouldn't still be replaying in her head hours later.
She squeezed her eyes shut.
Tomorrow they'd barely see each other.
The next day the holiday gathering would begin.
The mansion would be overflowing with guests, allies, elders, and neighboring Alphas.
There would be no reason to think about Marcus Hale again.
Before sleep finally claimed her, Ivy made herself one more promise.
First rule.
Don't look at Lena's father.
Second rule.
Don't think about him either.
Somewhere deep inside, she already knew she was going to fail at both.
- Writer
