Chapter eight
1415 Words
The hospital lobby smells of industrial bleach and bad decisions. I am walking three paces behind Silas, trying my absolute best to look like a grieving, dutiful daughter and not a woman who was pinned against a panic-room door six hours ago.
Silas is back in his "Billionaire Statue" mode. His suit is pressed, his hair is perfect, and his face is a mask of stone. If I didn't know better, I’d think he was a robot. A very hot, very muscular robot with a penchant for growling.
"You are walking too far back, Ivy," he says, not even turning his head. "People will think I’m your kidnapper."
"Well, technically, you did haul me into a bunker against my will," I whisper, catching up to his side. "And you have that 'I might eat your soul' look on your face. It’s a bit of a giveaway."
"I am an Alpha. I don't have a 'look.' I have a presence."
"You have a 'presence' that makes the receptionist want to hide under her desk, Silas. Try to look more... comforting. Like a man who doesn't spend his weekends suplexing giant wolves."
Silas let out a huff that might have been a laugh in another life. "Comforting. Noted. I shall attempt to smile at the next nurse we pass."
"Please don't. You’ll probably accidentally initiate a mating bond with her by mistake, and I really don't have the energy for a love square today."
We reach the ICU, and the atmosphere shifts instantly. The joking stops. The air turns cold. My father, Arthur, is lying in a bed surrounded by more wires than a high-end gaming PC. He looks smaller than I remember, his face pale against the white sheets.
But his eyes are open.
"Dad!" I rush to his side, my heart doing a triple-flip. I grab his hand, which feels cold but firm. "You’re awake. Oh my god, you’re actually awake."
Arthur blinks, his gaze struggling to focus. He looks at me, a small, tired smile touching his lips. "Ivy... baby girl. Why are you crying? Did Leo break your laptop again?"
"No, Dad. You were... you had an accident," I sob-laugh, squeezing his hand. "But you’re okay now."
Arthur’s gaze drifts past me, landing on the man standing at the foot of the bed. "Silas... you old dog. I knew you’d be here."
I feel Silas stiffen beside me. The "old dog" comment is a bit too on the nose, but my dad has no idea. To him, Silas is just his best friend, his business partner, the man he trusts more than anyone.
"Arthur," Silas says, his voice thick with an emotion I can't quite place. Guilt? Relief? "You gave us a hell of a scare."
"I bet," Arthur wheezes. He looks at Silas, then back at me, his eyes narrowing slightly as he notices the way I’m standing—just a little too close to Silas’s personal bubble. "Wait. Ivy... what are you wearing? That’s not your sweater."
I freeze. I am currently wearing Silas’s $500 cashmere sweater, which is three sizes too big and smells exactly like him.
"Oh, this?" I let out a high-pitched, nervous laugh. "I... I got cold. At the house. The heating was acting up. You know how Silas is, so stingy with the thermostat."
Silas shoots me a look that says I am a billionaire, I do not have heating issues, but he plays along. "The west wing has a draft, Arthur. I didn't want her to catch a chill."
Arthur looks between us, a flicker of suspicion in his eyes. "A draft? In a mansion built three years ago? Silas, you’re a contractor. Fix your own damn house."
"I’ll get right on that," Silas mutters.
"And Ivy," Dad says, his voice getting a bit stronger. "Why is there a red mark on your neck? Did the 'accident' get you too?"
I instinctively pull the collar of the sweater up to my ears. "It’s... it’s a mosquito bite! A giant, rogue, hospital-sized mosquito. They’re a real menace in Willow Creek this time of year."
"A mosquito," Arthur repeats, his gaze moving to Silas. "In October?"
Silas clears his throat, looking everywhere but at my father. "The mountain varieties are particularly resilient, Arthur. We should focus on your recovery. The doctors say you need rest."
"I’ve had enough rest! I’ve been in a coma!" Arthur tries to sit up, but winces and falls back. "Silas, tell me the truth. What happened in those woods? I remember... something big. Something that didn't look like a bear."
The room goes dead silent. I can feel the tension radiating off Silas like a heatwave. This is the moment. The secret is sitting right there on the edge of the bed, waiting to be blurted out.
"It was a rogue, Arthur," Silas says, his voice turning low and serious. "A dangerous animal from the deep ridges. But I’ve taken care of it. You’re safe. Ivy is safe."
"You took care of it?" Arthur asks. "With what? Your bare hands?"
"Something like that," Silas says, his eyes flashing amber for a split second before he blinks it away.
I decide to intervene before Silas accidentally shifts in the ICU. "Anyway! The important thing is you’re okay. Silas has been... a real help. He’s been watching over me. Like a... like a very, very intense uncle."
Silas makes a sound like he’s choking on a marble.
"An uncle?" Arthur raises an eyebrow. "He’s only sixteen years older than you, Ivy. Don't make the man sound like he’s eighty. He’s still a catch. If he wasn't so obsessed with his work, I’d have set him up with one of your mother’s friends years ago."
"Please don't," I say, a little too quickly.
"Oh?" Arthur looks at me, then at Silas. A slow, terrifyingly perceptive smile spreads across his face. "Silas... you’ve been looking after her, haven't you? Making sure she doesn't get into trouble?"
"With my life, Arthur," Silas says, and the way he says it makes my heart throb.
"Good. Because if I find out you’ve let some college boy break her heart while I was asleep, I’ll get out of this bed and kick your ass myself."
Silas looks at me, his gaze full of a dark, forbidden heat that makes my toes curl. "I don't think you have to worry about college boys, Arthur. Ivy has... very sophisticated taste."
"That’s my girl," Arthur chuckles, then winces again. "Now, get me some real food. If I have to eat another spoonful of this lime jello, I’m going to start a riot."
"I’ll go," I say, eager to escape the suffocating tension. "I saw a cafe downstairs. Silas, stay here and... talk about 'billionaire things.'"
I practically sprint out of the room. As I walk toward the elevator, I pass a vending machine and catch my reflection. I look flushed, my hair is a mess, and I’m wearing a man’s sweater like a security blanket.
"I am so screwed," I mutter to myself.
Suddenly, a hand reaches out from an alcove and pulls me into a side hallway. I start to scream, but a familiar palm covers my mouth.
"Relax, Princess. It’s just me."
It’s Cassian. He’s cleaned up since last night, wearing a fresh leather jacket and a smirk that tells me he heard every word in that hospital room.
"You’re a good actress, Ivy," he whispers, leaning against the wall. "The 'mosquito bite' was a nice touch. Very creative."
"What do you want, Cassian? I told you to stay away."
"I’m just here to deliver a message," he says, his eyes turning cold. "The pack elders saw the security footage from last night. They saw Silas kiss you. And they saw him use Alpha strength to protect a human."
"So?"
"So, the Pact isn't just a piece of paper, Ivy. It’s a blood-bond. By claiming you, even in secret, Silas has technically challenged the elders. They’re calling an emergency council tonight. And if Silas doesn't renounce you... they’ll strip him of his title."
My heart drops. "They can't do that. He’s the Alpha."
"Not if he’s 'compromised' by a human girl," Cassian smirks. "Think about it, Ivy. Is your little 'crush' worth his entire legacy? Because tonight, he has to choose. You... or the Pack."
He winks at me and disappears down the stairs before I can say a word. I stand there, the lime jello riot forgotten, my mind spinning.
- Writer
