The Blood Hound Pact

CHAPTER FIVE

The office was usually the one place where I felt like I was actually Ivy Vance, the law intern, rather than Ivy Vance, the girl whose life was falling apart. But today, the hum of the air conditioning felt like it was buzzing inside my skull. I couldn't focus on the brief in front of me. Every time a door opened, I expected to see a 6’2” billionaire with gray eyes standing there to tell me I was doing something wrong.

"You’re staring at that page like it’s written in ancient Greek, Ivy."

I jumped, my pen skittering across the desk. I looked up to see Maya, one of the paralegals, leaning against my cubicle wall with a look of pure pity.

"Sorry," I said, trying to smooth out the paper. "Just a lot on my mind."

"I bet. Listen, some guy is at the front desk for you. He didn't give a name, but he’s... well, he’s a lot to look at. Very 'outdoorsy,' if you know what I mean."

My stomach did a nervous flip. I stood up, smoothing my skirt, and walked toward the reception area. It wasn't Silas. It was a guy I recognized from his construction crews—Ken. He was tall, rugged, and looked like he’d never spent a day in an office in his life.

"Miss Vance," he said, handing me a small wooden box. "Mr. Vane wanted you to have this. Said you left it behind."

I took the box. It was heavy, the wood cool and smooth. "I didn't leave any box behind, Ken."

He just gave me a weird, tight-lipped smile. "He was pretty clear about it. See you around, Ivy."

He turned and left before I could ask anything else. I went back to my desk, my heart thudding against my ribs. I sat down and slowly pried the lid open. There was no jewelry or "Alpha" gift inside. Just a single, dried mountain berry—the kind my dad used to pick—and a small, folded scrap of paper.

I opened the note. The handwriting was jagged, like it had been written in a hurry.

The Pact has a price, Ivy. Ask Silas about the Silver Scarcity before it’s too late.

My breath hitched. Silver Scarcity. It sounded like a threat.

"Nice box. Did the big boss buy you a toy?"

I whipped around, nearly knocking the box off my desk. Cassian was standing right behind me, leaning over the partition with that same arrogant smirk that made me want to slap him.

"What are you doing here, Cassian? Silas said you weren't supposed to be near me."

"Silas isn't here, is he?" Cassian stepped into my cubicle, invading my space until I could smell his cologne. It was heavy and sharp. "You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Princess. What’s in the note? A love poem?"

"It’s nothing," I said, shoving the paper into my pocket. "Go away."

"You’re a bad liar," he whispered, his eyes dropping to the box. "Just remember, Ivy. Silas keeps secrets for a reason. He’s not protecting you; he’s protecting his throne. Ask yourself why your dad is in a hospital bed while Silas is playing house with you."

"Get out," I snapped, my voice cracking.

Cassian laughed, a low, unpleasant sound, and finally walked away. I sat there for a long time, staring at the dried berry. The office felt smaller now. Darker.

By the time the car arrived to pick me up, I was a wreck. The drive back to the estate was silent, the woods pressing in on both sides of the road. When I walked through the front doors, the house was quiet, but I could feel Silas. It was like a physical pressure in the air.

He was in the library, standing by the window with a glass of scotch in his hand. He had discarded his jacket, and his white shirt was unbuttoned at the neck.

"You’re late," he said, not turning around.

"The traffic was bad," I lied, walking into the room. I set the wooden box on his desk with a loud thud. "Who is Ken, Silas? And why did he bring me this?"

Silas turned, his eyes scanning the box before landing on me. His expression didn't change, but I saw the way his jaw tightened. He walked over and picked up the note I’d left inside. As he read it, the glass in his other hand shattered.

"Silas!" I gasped, reaching for him.

"Don't," he growled, his voice sounding deeper, more animal than human. He didn't even seem to notice the blood dripping from his palm where the glass had cut him. "Where did you get this?"

"I told you! Ken brought it to my office. Cassian saw it, too."

Silas swore under his breath, stepping toward me. He grabbed my shoulders, his grip firm but not painful. His eyes were no longer gray; they were a bright, terrifying amber. The heat coming off him was intense, making my skin prickle.

"Listen to me, Ivy," he said, his voice raw. "You are not to leave this house again. Not for work, not for anything. The Silver Scarcity... it’s not a riddle. It’s a group of rogues. And they just told me they know exactly where you are."

"Because of the Pact?" I asked, my heart racing. "What is it, Silas? Tell me the truth. No more 'billionaire' bullshit."

He looked at me, and for the first time, the mask completely fell away. I saw the fear in his eyes—not for himself, but for me. He leaned down, his forehead resting against mine. We were so close I could taste the scotch on his breath. The magnetism between us was a living thing, pulling us together even as the world outside was screaming.

"The truth is that I love your father," he whispered. "But the truth is also that the moment I saw you at eighteen, I knew you were mine. And the Pact says I can't have you. If I claim you, the rogues will use it as an excuse to tear this pack apart."

"Then let them," I breathed, my hands finding his waist.

Before he could answer, a long, mournful howl echoed from just outside the library windows. Silas stiffened, his eyes glowing brighter.