Chapter 16
sixteen
Ivy is more beautiful than I ever could have imagined.
The last time I truly saw her face, she was barely sixteen, covered in freckles, and still very much growing into her features. It didn’t matter, back then, that she seemed awkward—I loved her .
Her high cheekbones and full, pink mouth used to look as oversized as her clear blue eyes—but now…
She’s a woman.
And a gorgeous one.
But there’s no color to her face. Her shining gaze is dazed. And her body quivers so intensely, the brush in her hand clatters to the floor.
It takes me a moment to process that.
She’s on her hands and knees with a scrub brush ? Why? Did she honestly think we expected her to go back to work after discovering who she really was?
Who she is —because, as I stand in front of her, my Alpha lunges.
I drop to the floor, gathering her hands and guiding her up from her strained position. “Darling,” I murmur, “What are you doing on the floor?”
She flutters those glassy eyes again, resting on her bent legs and looking from my face to Dair’s doorway, then over to Bast.
“I—I scrub the floors every Sunday.”
The horror of that simple statement washes through the room. This— her , on her hands and knees , scraping our dirt off our floors—is her reality. Her life .
And I allowed it. Because I wouldn’t let myself look at her. See her.
Because I was afraid of wanting anyone who wasn’t her.
The irony is too tragic. Unacceptable.
Ivy watches my face contort and starts to stammer, “B-but if it doesn’t please you, Your Highness, I can?—”
Dair’s growl rends the air, stilling Bast’s hands halfway through his hair and freezing our omega in place. I look at him, torn between wanting to fight him and understanding the bastard all too well.
He hates me for this.
He hates himself for this.
And if the way I feel is any indication, hearing her— our mate —earnestly use my formal title has just about killed him.
Bast’s face confirms it. In all the time I’ve known him, I’ve never seen him look so sick.
Because of me.
And her, lying. Feeling like she had to lie.
Because. Of. Me .
My hands tighten around her wrists.
So fragile. Pale. Weak .
All my fault .
I can’t even begin to describe the shame and anguish churning through my body, so I settle on a low bark.
“ Never call me that again.”
Ivy trembles, ducking her head as tears trickle down her face. “I—I’m so sorry, Your—Sir. I should have told you who I was, but I didn’t want to lose my job and?—”
Bast’s arms fly out to wrap around her quivering frame. “Angel,” he breathes, sounding as if he’s on the verge of breaking down himself. “ Stop . Please. My fucking heart can’t take it. You haven’t done anything to apologize for.”
I feel a twinge of disagreement—because, God, how could she have been here every day and not told me ?—but it’s easy to stifle. Especially when Dair slowly strides over…
…and drops to his knees, too.