Chapter 9
CAMERON
I woke to the soft warmth of Ivy pressed against me, her head resting on my chest and her arm draped across my waist. For the first time in thirty-two years, my wolf wasn't snarling at the edges of my consciousness. Instead, it was purring.
Her heartbeat thrummed against my ribs, her scent woven into my sheets, my skin, my soul. Mate. The word resonated through me like a struck bell, settling something primal I hadn't known was restless. For a moment, I allowed myself to revel in the peace of it, the steady rhythm of her breathing, the scent of her hair, the unshakable sense of rightness that came with her being in my arms.
I traced the claiming mark I'd left on her shoulder, the crescent bite marks from my teeth, still pink and healing. My chest swelled. Mine. Every cell in my body sang with it.
When I shifted to rise, Ivy made a soft noise of protest, her fingers clutching my wrist. "Stay," she mumbled, still half-asleep.
The command should've rankled. Instead, my wolf preened, nuzzling her mind through the fresh bond. I pressed a kiss to her knuckles. "Five minutes," I lied.
Carefully, I disentangled myself from her, sliding out of bed as quietly as I could. Ivy stirred slightly, murmuring something incoherent, but she didn't wake. I stood there for a moment, watching her sleep, my chest tightening with affection. She looked so vulnerable, so trusting, and the thought of her being exposed to danger because I was a wolf made my stomach churn.
I dressed quickly, my movements sharp and precise, and left the penthouse without waking her. The cool morning air did little to clear my head as I made my way to the office. It was Sunday, and the city was still quiet around me.
The building was empty when I arrived, the silence almost suffocating. I poured myself a cup of coffee and sat at my desk, staring at the blank screen of my computer. My usual focus was nowhere to be found, my mind instead consumed by thoughts of Ivy and the way she'd looked at me last night as if I were the only thing that mattered.
A knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts, and I looked up to see Brody standing in the doorway, his brow furrowed. "You're here early," he said, stepping inside. "Everything alright?"
"Fine," I said, my tone clipped.
Brody didn't look convinced, but he didn't press. Instead, he set a folder on my desk. "The updated sales projections for the new kits. Thought you'd want to see them."
I nodded, flipping through the pages without really seeing them. "Thanks."
Brody hesitated, his gaze lingering on me. "You sure you're okay? You seem off."
"I'm fine," I repeated, sharper this time.
He held up his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright. Just checking."
As he turned to leave, my phone rang, the shrill sound cutting through the silence. I glanced at the screen, my stomach sinking when I saw the name: Boris Tanner.
I answered, my voice cold. "What do you want, Boris?"
"Straight to the point." Boris's voice was a serrated blade down my spine. "I like that. You see, I've been keeping an eye on your little operation. That new chef of yours, she's quite the talent. Ivy, is it? Those meal kits she presented at FoodieCon were impressive. It would be a shame if something happened to derail the launch. You should see what my men just saw at your warehouse, Fitzgerald."
A photo lit up my screen, pallets of CCC meal kits packed and ready to go, swarming with rats. It was impossible of course, our packing warehouses were practically lab grade clean rooms. Our employees had to go through three rounds of sanitation before entering the facility. It was obvious those rats were planted by Boris's henchmen.
"Imagine this leaking out online tomorrow. It would go viral in hours. Cam's Comfy Cuisine, now with extra vermin. Your stock would crater by Monday's opening bell. That new product launch of yours is going to be as effective as pissing into the wind."
My jaw tightened. "Name your price."
"Oh, I don't want money. Not anymore. I want something much more valuable. I want you to watch your empire burn. Starting with her."
Ice shot through my veins. "If you lay a finger on her—"
"What?" Boris interrupted, his voice dripping with menace. "What will you do, Fitzgerald? You're already on thin ice. One wrong move and I'll make sure you lose everything. Including her."
My phone buzzed as I received another photo. This time, it was a zoomed-in picture of Ivy, still asleep in my bed. The detail on the photo was so crisp that I could even see my claiming bite mark on her neck.
My wolf surged forward, claws tearing through my fingertips."If you go near her—"
The line went dead, leaving me staring at the phone, my hand trembling with rage. The threat was clear, Ivy was in danger, and it was because of me.
My vision turned black at the edges. The world narrowed to a single, blood-soaked point. I stared at the picture of Ivy sleeping in my bed her hair fanned across my pillows.
I shoved the phone into my pocket and stood, pacing the room as my mind raced. Boris had made his move, and now Ivy was a target. The thought of her getting hurt because of me was unbearable, and my wolf growled in protest, desperate to protect her.
My canines punched down, a snarl building in my throat. But where there should've been mindless rage, there was only cold clarity.
Mine to protect. Mine to lose.
I flexed my hands, marveling at the control. This was what they meant about bonded alphas. The wolf wasn't tamed. It was focused.
My phone buzzed. Ivy's name flashed with a text: "You owe me five minutes. Plus interest."
I let out a frustrated roar.
Brody didn't flinch. "We'll triple her security. Move her to the penthouse full-time."
"No." My claws ripped grooves into the edge of my desk. "Boris has eyes everywhere. Even my inner circle could be compromised."
A growl built in my chest as I pulled up the warehouse photo again. The rat photo had been taken from inside the secured loading zone. Either my security had been defeated or someone on my payroll was working for Boris.
On my desk, my phone screen glowed with Ivy's text. She had no idea how much danger she was in.
"Call Denver," I ordered. "Tell him I'm calling in a favor as a wolf."
Brody's eyes widened. "You're invoking pack law."
"Now." My command came as Brody's alpha.
As Brody left, I opened the hidden safe behind the framed check for the first order sold by the company. There were only two things inside, a treasured photo of me and my mother at my high school graduation before the cancer ate her alive, and a gun loaded with wolfsbane-laced bullets.
I pocketed the gun and traced my mother's smile. She'd fought for me to have a better life until her last breath. I wasn't going to let her down now.
The drive home took three lifetimes. Every second Ivy was unprotected scraped my nerves raw. As soon as the penthouse door clicked shut behind me, I exhaled, rolling the tension from my shoulders. The scent of fresh coffee and something sweet, wrapped around me, a stark contrast to the storm raging in my mind.
Standing at the kitchen island, with her back to me, she hummed softly as she whisked batter in a bowl. She wore only one of my white shirts. It was so big that it hung loosely off one of her shoulders and the hem landed at mid-thigh. I growled, both from the possessiveness that roared to life in my chest, and the stark proof of her vulnerability. For a single moment, I let myself pretend everything was normal. That we were just two people in love, starting an ordinary day.
Then she turned and her smile died when she saw my face. The bowl clattered against the granite counter. "You look like you're about to declare war. What happened?"
I didn't smile. Couldn't. She was going to hate me for what I was about to do.
Her brows knit together. "Cameron?"
"You can't go back to work." The words came out sharper than I intended, a command, not a request.
Ivy stilled. "What?"
"Boris has a target on you. He sent men to the warehouse to sabotage our orders. He's trying to ruin the company, and he's going after you to get to me." I pulled out my phone and showed her the photo of her sleeping in our bed. "He has people watching you, People inside my warehouse."
Her breath hitched, fingers tightening around the edge of the counter. For a heartbeat, she just stared at the screen, her pulse jumping in her throat. Then her jaw set.
"So what's the plan?" she asked, voice steady.
"You stay here. Full-time. No leaving the penthouse without security."
Her eyes flashed. "No."
I clenched my jaw. "Ivy."
"No." She shoved the phone back at me. "You don't get to unilaterally decide what I do. We're partners, remember? That means we figure this out together."
My wolf bristled at the defiance, the challenge in her tone. But beneath it, I caught the tremor in her hands, the way her scent shifted with something raw, fear, yes, but also something deeper.
It was the bitter smell of betrayal.
"This isn't a negotiation," I said, stepping closer. "He threatened you. Explicitly. I won't risk anything happening to you."
"And I won't be locked away like some helpless damsel!" Her voice cracked, and she swiped at her cheek before I could see the tear fall. "You don't understand what this feels like. My whole life, men have tried to control me my ex, my old boss, even some perverted food critic. They all decided what was best for me without asking. And now you're doing the exact same thing."
The words landed like a blow.
I reached for her.
She stepped back. "Don't."
The space between us widened, swallowing us. My wolf howled, claws raking at my ribs, desperate to close the distance, to fix this. But the bond between us which was still so new and so fragile, pulled taut with her pain.
I forced my claws to retract and swallowed the growl in my throat. "Ivy, please. This isn't about control. It's about protecting you, keeping you alive."
"Then talk to me." Her hands fisted at her sides. "Tell me the plan. Let me help. But don't you dare shut me out and call it protection."
I exhaled, dragging a hand through my hair. She was right. I knew she was right. But the thought of her in danger made my vision bleed red.
"Denver's coming," I said finally. "I called in a favor."
Ivy blinked. "A favor?"
"Pack law. He'll help me hunt Boris down." I met her gaze, letting her see the truth in mine. "But until he's dead, you're not safe. And I can't think straight when it comes to you."
She let out a shuddering breath. For a long moment, she just stared at me, searching. Then, slowly, she closed the distance between us, her palm pressing over my racing heart.
"Then let me be your partner," she whispered. "Not your prisoner."
I caught her wrist, pulling her closer until our foreheads touched. "If anything happens to you—"
"It won't." Her free hand cupped my jaw. "Because we're smarter than him. And we're not doing this alone."
I swallowed hard, my wolf settling at her touch, at the we in her words. She wasn't yielding. But she wasn't pushing me away, either.
"Alright," I murmured, pressing a kiss to her palm. "Together."
"Together," she agreed. She stared up at me, holding my gaze with steel in her eyes. "But my terms too, no more decrees. We plan. We fight. Or we don't survive."