Chapter 34 – IVY
Chapter
Thirty-Four
IVY
I'm painfully aware of four alpha gazes fixed on me.
The kitchen suddenly feels too small, too hot, too.
.. everything. Whiskey's staring at me like he's seeing a ghost, his honey-brown eyes wide and his mouth slightly open.
Plague's expression is more controlled, but I can see the slight tension in his jaw, the way his knuckles have gone white around the spatula.
Thane's dark eyes watch me with an intensity that would be unnerving if I hadn't spent the night with his significantly more intense brother.
And then there's Wraith, moving to stand beside me, his massive frame radiating heat and safety. I lean toward him instinctively, his protective presence keeping me from bolting back to the loft.
The silent communication between the alphas of this pack isn't lost on me. There's a whole conversation happening with just glances and subtle shifts in posture.
They're all ridiculously attractive up close, I'll give them that. And not in the fuckboy way I'm used to, either.
"Um, coffee?" Whiskey finally says, shaking himself from whatever trance he was in. "Yeah. Right. Coffee. I can do that."
He practically lunges for the coffee maker, his cinnamon scent spiking with anxiety that seems out of place in such a big alpha.
The other scents are all blending together, difficult to tell apart when they're all around me at once.
He fumbles with filters and grounds while stealing glances at me over his shoulder.
It would be almost comical if the whole situation didn't feel so precarious.
"You can sit down," Thane says, gesturing to the kitchen table. His voice sounds controlled but strained, like he's working hard to keep it level. "If you want to, obviously."
I nod, moving toward the table with Wraith still shadowing me.
He pulls out a chair for me, and I sit, trying not to look as nervous as I feel.
Wraith settles beside me, his large body making the chair look comically small.
Under the table, his outer thigh presses against mine in silent reassurance.
Plague transfers perfectly cooked eggs to a serving plate and brings it to the table along with French toast. Despite my hunger, my stomach knots with anxiety. I watch as Thane and Plague take seats across from us. Whiskey joins a moment later, setting a steaming mug of coffee in front of me.
"Wasn't sure how you take it," he says, pushing a small container of sugar and three cartons of milk—cow's milk, almond milk, and oat milk—toward me. "So I brought options."
"Black is fine," I say, wrapping my hands around the mug for warmth. "Thank you."
The simple domesticity of the moment—sitting at a kitchen table with coffee and breakfast—feels surreal after months of hiding, eating cold food in abandoned rooms, and drinking lukewarm coffee from vending machines. It's been so long since I've had a normal moment like this.
Strange that I'm surrounded by alphas when it finally happens. Really didn't see that coming.
I take a sip of coffee, letting the warmth calm me down. When I look up, all four alphas are watching me with varying degrees of intensity.
"This is weird," I finally say to break the tension.
"A week ago I was living in maintenance tunnels, and now I'm sitting at a kitchen table with four alphas who are supposedly my scent matches.
" I let out a small, disbelieving laugh.
"If someone had told me this would happen, I would've thought they were crazy. "
"How long were you living down there?" Whiskey asks, leaning forward with his elbows on the table. "In the tunnels, I mean."
I hesitate, not sure how much I want to reveal. But they already know I was hiding, and I need to establish some level of trust if I'm going to navigate this bizarre situation.
"Almost two months," I admit, watching their reactions carefully.
Thane's jaw tightens, a muscle jumping beneath the skin. Plague goes perfectly still, his face unreadable but his scent sharpening with something like anger. Whiskey looks openly shocked, his mouth dropping open.
"Two months?" he repeats. "You were under our arena for two fucking months? How did no one notice?"
I shrug, taking another sip of coffee. "I was careful. I only moved around at night. Found an abandoned VIP suite to sleep in. Used maintenance badges I found to access restricted areas." I don't mention that I'd been sharpening their skates at night. They don't need to know all my secrets yet.
"That's..." Thane starts, then stops, seemingly at a loss for words.
"Impressive," Plague finishes for him, his pale blue eyes studying me with new interest. "And concerning."
"You must have been desperate," Thane says quietly.
The understatement nearly makes me laugh, but there's nothing funny about the memories that flash through my mind. Burning off Wade's mark with a flat iron in a gas station bathroom, sleeping with one eye open, counting pennies to make sure I had enough for food each day.
"Yeah," I say simply. "I was."
"Who were you hiding from?" Whiskey asks, his voice dropping to a low growl. "What alpha did this to you? It's always a fucking alpha."
I hesitate, not sure I'm ready for this conversation yet.
"We won't push," Thane says, much to my relief. He gives Whiskey a look that leaves zero room for argument, even though Whiskey looks like he's considering it anyway.
"What about Valek?" Plague asks, redirecting the conversation. "He arrives in less than two hours."
My stomach drops. "The alpha I hit with the fire extinguisher? He's coming here?"
"Management decided he should recover at the pack house," Thane explains, rubbing his temple with his fingertips. "They're worried about legal issues and want to show 'team unity' or some bullshit."
"Valek has already seen me," I say, already starting to panic. "In the shower room. If he recognizes me—"
"He won't get near you," Whiskey says immediately. "We wouldn't let him—scent match or not."
"You don't understand," I press. "It's not just about him recognizing me. It's..." I hesitate, trying to find the right words. "The alpha I'm hiding from has connections everywhere. If Valek says anything to anyone..."
"You think Valek might know the alpha you're hiding from?" Plague asks, his analytical mind clearly connecting dots I haven't explicitly drawn.
"He might," I admit. "They were on the same team a few years ago. Not for long, but still. I can't risk it either way."
Wraith's hand finds mine, not quite holding it, but brushing it.
Maybe I do need to tell them. If Valek's coming here, they need to understand the full scope of the danger he presents to me. And after last night with Wraith, after the way he's protected me even from his own pack...
I take a deep breath. "The alpha I'm hiding from is Wade Kelly."
All four alphas freeze. Whiskey lets out a string of curses, pushing back from the table so violently his chair nearly topples over. Wraith's soft growl vibrates through the air, the sound protective rather than threatening.
"Wade fuckin' Kelly?" Whiskey snarls. "The star forward for the Demons?"
I nod, throat tight.
"You were with him?" Plague's voice remains calm, but there's an edge to it I haven't heard before.
“Not only that, I was his fiancée,” I say bitterly.
"Kelly has a reputation," Thane says flatly, "but I didn't realize…"
"He kept it hidden," I mutter. "He's very good at that."
"We need to do something about this," Whiskey says, pacing now. The rage pouring off him is strong enough to scent. "Kelly needs to be taught a lesson. We could—"
"No," I cut him off sharply. "You're not doing anything."
Whiskey stares at me. "But—"
"If you go after Wade, you'll just make things worse," I say firmly. "He has money, connections, a whole PR team ready to paint me as unstable and delusional. He'd destroy you."
"We can handle ourselves," Whiskey grits out.
"Maybe you can," I counter, "but would you be helping me, or just satisfying your own need to avenge your scent match? Because those are two very different things."
That stops them. The four alphas exchange glances.
“I need you all to understand how important it is that you don't take my choices away from me, even with the best intentions,” I continue, my voice softening. “If you want to help me, respect me.”
Plague studies me for a long moment. “What are your wishes, Ivy? Regarding this situation with Valek, specifically.”
It's a fair question. I've told them what I don't want, but not what I do want.
"I need to stay hidden," I say, thinking through the problem. "At least until we know if Valek and Wade are on friendly terms. If he's seen Wade recently, if they talk..." I shake my head. "I can't risk it."
"You could stay in the loft," Thane suggests. "It's secure, and Valek doesn't know how to access it." He glances at Wraith. "And I'm sure my brother doesn't mind."
Wraith shakes his head.
"We could seal the door that leads up there," Plague says. "Bolt it shut, spackle and paint over it from our side. Make it look like it was never there."
"What about the room situation?" Whiskey asks, running his hands through his tousled brown hair. "The only spare room is the one Wraith would use if he wasn't up in the loft. If Valek is getting that room, won't he wonder where Wraith sleeps?"
Wraith signs something. I miss most of it, but I catch the general gist of it. That he could pretend he sleeps in the woods camping, and something about him being feral anyway.
Thane nods with some reluctance. "I think he'd believe that.
" He looks warily at me. "Are you okay with that?
Staying in the loft with Wraith? The window locks from the inside, so you could keep us all out if you want to.
" He pauses, then adds, "Not that we'd try to go up there anyway. Not uninvited."
Wraith gives the other three alphas a pointed look that suggests they won't be getting up there at all.