Novels by Hypeman Zaddy

IVY’s pov,I kept my eyes on the fire, letting its low crackle fill the silence in my head. It was late. Everyone else had already gone inside, but I couldn’t sleep. Not with the way my thoughts kept spinning, nor with the way my heart kept pulling in three different directions.I’d told Ronan I loved him. And I meant it. But love didn’t stop the ache in my chest when I thought of Elias. Or the steady calm Kiernan gave me, like a lighthouse in the storm.I didn’t know how to love them all. I didn’t know how to stop either.The sound of footsteps made me turn. I expected Kiernan. Maybe even Elias. But it was Ronan again, a blanket over one shoulder, two mugs in his hands.“You left without tea,” he said, sitting beside me.“I didn’t want to wake you.”“You didn’t.” He handed me a mug. The scent of chamomile drifted up, soft and familiar.We sat in silence for a while. The kind that stretched, but didn’t hurt, not with Ronan. With him, quiet was easy.“I don’t regret last night,” I said

Ronan’s Pov,The wind had a bite to it that morning, a sharp edge curling around the keep's corners and slipping under collars. I stood in the training yard, arms folded, watching the younger wolves run drills. They were too fast, forgetting the importance of patience, of reading your opponent before striking. I should’ve corrected them. But I didn’t.Ivy hadn’t come down yet. I told myself I wasn’t waiting for her, but that was a lie, and I no longer believed it.The dream from nights ago still haunted me. Not the image of her in the storm—that had faded—but the way she called my name. Not with love. With fear. With anger. It had etched itself into me, deeper than any scar.When I finally saw her, it was like the air shifted. She wore that heavy coat again, with the fur lining that brushed her jaw when she walked. Her hair was braided to one side, simple and loose. But her eyes—gods, her eyes—held something that made my heart stutter. Determination. And something else. Sadness maybe.

Ronan’s POV,I left Ivy in the garden with her hair tangled by the wind and her eyes turned toward the stars. She didn’t say much after resting her head on my shoulder. She didn’t need to. There was a quiet peace to her that I hadn’t seen in days. Maybe weeks. And I’d take whatever pieces of calm she could find in this place.I couldn’t sleep again. Not that I expected to.I tried. I lay there, staring at the cracks in the ceiling, listening to the sound of my breath. But every time I closed my eyes; I saw her face. Not the peaceful one from the garden—but the one from the dream. Wild. Afraid. Calling for me in the storm.So I got up, dressed in silence, and walked until my feet led me somewhere new.The eastern edge of the territory was quiet this time of night. Cold, even though spring had started to thaw the ground. The moon hung low, half-shrouded in clouds. The air smelled of frost and pine. And I walked.It wasn’t the kind of walk that had a destination. It was the kind that hel

Ronan's pov.The sky was painted in dusky gold when I stepped out onto the back terrace. The garden below glistened with dew that hadn't burned off from the morning. It had rained just before dawn, leaving everything soft and damp. The air smelled like pine and wet stone. And something sweeter—like a promise just waiting to be broken.Ivy was already there. Barefoot, in an oversized shirt that didn’t belong to her. I knew because it was mine. I’d left it in her room last night, folded neatly at the foot of her bed before I slipped out just before the servants stirred.She didn’t say anything when she saw me. Just looked. Like she was memorizing something small and quiet. Like she needed to carry it with her a little while longer.“You’re up early,” I said, softening my voice.“I didn’t sleep.” Her words were low, brushed with something heavy. Not sadness. Just tired.I moved to her side, close but not touching. Not yet.“You okay?”She hesitated. “I keep asking myself that too.”I nod

Ronan’s Pov,I stood by the window longer than I meant to. The sun was already past the ridge, bleeding color across the trees like spilled wine. Ivy’s scent still lingered on my shirt, soft and warm like wild violets crushed in the heat. I hadn’t changed. I hadn’t moved. My hand was still tingling from where she held it last night, curled beside me like something fragile and breakable.I knew I shouldn’t let it get to me.But it already had.I didn’t hear the knock until it came again, louder this time. I turned away from the window and opened the door to find Kiernan leaning in the frame like he owned it. He didn’t smile. Just looked at me, slow and quiet.“We need to talk,” he said.I stepped back and let him in.Kiernan paced once, twice, then turned on me. “What are we doing?”The question was short, blunt, sharp enough to cut bone.I didn’t answer right away. He crossed his arms, waiting.“I don’t know,” I said truthfully.“She was with you last night.”It wasn’t a question. It

Narrator's POV.The morning mist clung low to the ground, curling between the tree trunks like a secret. Ivy stood barefoot in the clearing behind the main house, the grass cold and wet under her toes. She wasn’t sure why she came out here. Maybe to breathe. Maybe to remember what it felt like to be something other than caught.She wrapped her arms around herself and stared up at the grey sky. Everything felt too quiet. As if the whole world was waiting.Behind her, she heard a step. Slow. Careful.“I thought I’d find you here.”Kiernan.She didn’t turn around. She didn’t flinch either. He always moved like a shadow—quiet but strong, like the storm inside him had learned to walk soft.“I couldn’t sleep,” she said.“Me either.”He stopped just beside her, close enough she could feel his heat, but not touching. He never touched unless she let him. That used to frustrate her. Now it felt like kindness.“What’s wrong?” he asked.She didn’t know how to answer that without giving too much a