21. Chapter 21
Elias
I hadn’t planned to be at the Carrington house today. But I wanted to see Arabella again, and work on getting to know her better. And there was another reason, too. I shuffled the papers in my hands, feeling slightly guilty about bringing them.
I didn’t really need to print these - I could have sent these files or had the discussions via phone.
Most of it was preliminary data on long-term bond adaptation, along with a few studies I thought Ivy might find interesting.
Yet after staring at the files that morning, I'd found myself printing everything out and driving over anyway.
The truth was simple, even if I didn't particularly want to examine it too closely. I missed talking to her.
And yeah, I felt awful about it. Arabella was my future mate, and she was fantastic. She was gorgeous and animated, with a mind for great marketing. I should focus on learning about all her other great attributes and on courting her to strengthen our bond.
But that didn’t mean that my friendship with Ivy was meaningless, or that I stopped caring about her.
Anyway, I wanted to maintain good relationships with Arabella’s family, and find out more about their dynamics.
Arabella had been through something severe, and I had a feeling it had a lot to do with the friction of entering a new family when she and her mom joined the Carrington pack.
Maybe if I found out more, I could help both of them.
The house was unusually quiet when I stepped inside. “Arabella?” I called out, hoping she was nearby.
“She’s upstairs! Not ready yet,” one of the household staff said as she rushed by, carrying cleaning supplies. Arabella had told me to just come in, so I sat on the living room couch waiting for her. A few minutes later, I saw movement in the kitchen.
“Arabella?” I asked and stood to walk over.
But it wasn’t Arabella - I saw the small, dark-haired frame of Ivy as she moved about quietly, her hair in a messy ponytail and her lab coat askew.
She spotted me as I stepped into the kitchen, almost freezing when she saw me.
The sight of her immediately eased something inside me that I hadn't even realized was wound up.
“Hey,” I said gently. She looked down and opened her mouth, but didn’t say anything. I took a closer look - she appeared exhausted. There were dark circles under her eyes, and she was hunched over, like she hadn’t gotten proper sleep. I’d never seen her like this before.
"Oh," she said when she finally spoke, her eyes flitting around the kitchen, anywhere but at me. "Hi, Elias."
"It’s good to see you," I said, trying my best to put her at ease. I lifted the folder in my hand. "I brought those research papers I mentioned."
Her eyes widened. "You don’t have to keep meeting with me," she said.
"What? We were getting so much accomplished,” I said, watching her closely.
She bit her lip, still not making eye contact.
“Hey,” I said, taking a step closer. “I still want to meet with you. About work,” I clarified.
“And I do want to get to know you better. We will be family once Arabella joins our pack.” Ivy seemed to shudder at the words, and I frowned.
“I know,” she said softly. I handed her the packet. She reached out, taking it gingerly.
"I highlighted a few sections," I said. “I think you'll like what I found.” She swallowed, then scanned the first page for a moment before gasping softly.
"You found the pheromone study!” Her eyes went wide as she saw it.
"I did." The study was old and hard to track down. But I’d managed to find it.
"I've been trying to access this for years." She said, her voice in awe. The excitement in her eyes made me feel absurdly happy. For a few moments, everything felt normal again. Then she shifted the folder beneath her arm, exposing her skin under her lab coat. There were angry red marks across the inside of her wrist. My stomach tightened immediately with worry. As a doctor, I’d seen those marks before - I’d treated them on other omegas.
They were clearly marks of descenter irritation, a very severe case. Usually from using descenter to the point of developing a rash. She saw me looking and quickly pulled her sleeve down.
"Ivy - what happened to your arm?" I asked gently. Her entire body tensed.
"Nothing." Her words came out too quickly.
"Ivy." I said, my heart breaking. She had more going on than I ever realized. "It doesn't look nothing." She took a step backward.
"It's just dry skin." She said, holding the papers up in front of her like a shield.
"Ivy, I've seen descenter burns before." I said, and her eyes widened.
"I have to finish something in the lab." Before I could respond, she turned and hurried down the hallway. She looked tired and disoriented. Now, with the burns, I knew that something was very wrong.
"Is everything okay?" A voice asked, slightly pitched with irritation. I turned to find Arabella descending the staircase. She looked immaculate, as always. She smiled at me, and I wondered exactly what was going on in this household behind closed doors.
“Arabella," I said, moving closer to her. She reached for me, her arms curling around me as I felt her melt into me. Her eyes looked toward the hallway where Ivy had disappeared.
"Was that Ivy?" She asked. I hesitated but then spoke. I needed answers.
"It was.”
“Oh - next time just wait for me. You don’t need to make conversation with her.” Arabella said, and I was shocked at her words. I knew omegas were possessive, but this was extreme.
“Actually, can I ask you something?" I looked down at Arabella, and her smile brightened immediately.
"Anything you want, babe." She said, nuzzling into me. I leaned forward, lowering my voice.
"Is Ivy alright? She doesn’t look well." To Arabella's credit, she did suddenly look concerned.
"Oh. Well…” She said, looking around as if she shouldn’t be speaking.
"What’s going on?" I asked, and she sighed.
“Well, I should say it but… Ivy’s always struggled.” Arabella said. The statement didn't explain the marks on her arm.
"Struggled how?" I probed. Arabella twisted her hands together.
"She doesn't always handle stress very well." She said, her voice low as she glanced around. My heart sank, and I frowned.
"What does that mean exactly? I saw marks on her. She’s overusing descenter."
Arabella looked surprised, then uncomfortable. "Well… I love her, of course. She's my sister. But she can be very unwell at times. Mentally. And, sometimes, she can be self-destructive."
The shock came first, then the hurt that coursed through me. Ivy was self-destructive? I could see her being shy or introverted, but not someone who hurt herself.
"Self-destructive?" I asked slowly, my mind racing.
"Nothing that dramatic," Arabella said as she gave a nervous laugh. "But yeah, she doesn’t know how to handle it when I succeed. I think she likes to get attention, because it takes away from me.” Arabella’s words sounded hurt, and for a moment, I didn’t want to believe it.
But if Ivy had a history of trying to get attention to the point where she was hurting herself, then she needed more help than what her family could give.
“That’s not good. She needs help,” I said, my mind suddenly worried for both omegas.
"I've spent years trying to help her," Arabella said. "Trying to teach her how to take care of herself. How to be a healthy omega. I mean, I’m an expert. But she doesn’t listen. She has extreme jealousy issues as well, so, with me finding my match, I’m sure it set her off.” Arabella looked crestfallen, and I wrapped her in a hug.
“Don’t feel guilty about your own achievements.
” I said, holding her tightly. This would explain the markers in her file for low self-worth.
If Ivy acted out every time Arabella succeeded, it would explain so much.
The conflict, the tension, and maybe, Ivy’s appearance lately.
“But you aren’t a professional. You can be a sister to her, but she needs more help than you can give.
” I said, and Arabella nodded, biting her lip.
“I know. She doesn’t want help, though. She thinks I’m the problem,” Arabella said, her voice wavering. I felt my heart sink. This was worse than I thought. Ivy needed help - but first, I needed to help my mate. I pulled Arabella to me, already vowing in my mind to get her out of this situation.
“You can’t force someone to get help if they don’t want it. But we can encourage it, and we won’t give up on her.” I said, hugging Arabella tightly. No wonder her trauma markers were high - there was more going on between these two than I ever would have guessed.
Arabella nodded into my chest. “Don’t worry, omega,” I whispered, stroking her hair. “I’ll find a way to fix this. For both your sakes.”