Chapter 11: Just an Old Friend

 

Alex POV

Ivy pointed toward the back of the room, where an old wolf sat alone at his table, watching us with an intensity that didn’t belong at a party like this. His posture was straight-backed, hands folded, gaze never wavering. The rest of the room faded around him, every other conversation and clink of glass muted by that stare.

I recognized him immediately one of the White Morning Pack elders. Hard to forget a face like that, even after this long. His hair had gone silver, but his eyes were sharp as ever.

“He looks exactly like he did five years ago,” Max mused, studying him through my eyes. “Wonder what he wants.”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “And I don’t like that I don’t know.” Max unease echoed through me at a low hum.

“Alex,” Ivy said again, tugging me back to the present. “Who is that man? He’s been staring at us, well, mostly at me since I sat down.” There was a thread of anxiety in her voice.

“Just an old friend of the family,” I said, keeping my tone light, even when unease coiled low in my gut. It wasn’t a lie, exactly. Magnus had known my father for decades, long before any of this arranged-marriage nonsense had ever been dreamed up, but friend didn’t quite cover the weight sitting behind that stare. There were layers to that gaze, layers I didn’t want Ivy to see.

“He doesn’t look like he’s here to be friendly,” Ivy said, studying him with the same sharp attention she’d used to size up every drunk at the bar the night we met. “He looks like he’s trying to solve a math problem, and I’m the math problem.” She leaned forward a fraction, never breaking eye contact with Magnus, like she was daring him to blink first.

I huffed a short laugh despite myself. “He’s harmless.” I forced my body to relax, but my Max bristled.

“Is he, though?” Max pushed, unconvinced. “Elders like that don’t watch a human girl for fun. There’s always a reason.”

I ignored him, mostly because I didn’t have a good answer, and turned my attention back to Ivy, hoping the subject would die there. But I knew Ivy well enough by now to know she didn’t let things drop that easily.

It didn’t.

“Why does everyone here look like they could bench-press a car?” she asked instead, glancing around the hall. “Is there some kind of gym membership requirement I don’t know about?” Her tone was teasing, but her eyes were sharp searching for real answers.

“Good genetics,” I said.

“That’s not an answer.”

“It’s the only one you’re getting tonight.” I tried to keep it playful, but she saw right through me. Her lips pressed together, and I could see her filing it away for later.

Ivy knitted her eyebrows together the moment the food arrived, then looked up at me with a deep furrow between them.

“This is raw,” she said, poking her fork into the steak like it might still be alive.

“It’s medium rare,” I corrected. “And delicious.” I cut my own steak with practiced ease, taking a bite and savoring it.

“What,” she said, pulling her mouth into a thin line. “Please don’t tell me you actually love this. A good vet could still save it. Whatever it even is.”

Milo nearly choked on his own bite beside me. I kept my composure, mostly, though I could feel a grin tugging at the corner of my mouth.

“It’s how it’s supposed to be cooked,” I said. “It’s beef, nothing wrong with it. Try it, you might like it.” I nudged her plate closer, waiting.

She cut off a small piece and put it in her mouth, chewing for exactly two seconds before pulling a face and visibly shivering.

“What’s the second course?” she asked, setting down her fork like it had personally betrayed her. “A plate of blood pudding?”

I laughed despite myself, shaking my head. Milo tried to stifle a cough, but failed, drawing glances from across the table.

“Seems like you all like it raw,” she said, stabbing at the vegetables instead, giving the steak a wide berth. “You’re not some kind of vampire, are you?”

Milo choked for real this time, coughing hard enough that I had to shoot him a warning look over Ivy’s head.

“No,” I said, certain. “We are not.”

I raised a hand to catch our table server’s attention. He crossed to us quickly, surprise flickering in his eyes at being summoned by me directly.

“My guest doesn’t eat her steak this rare,” I said. “Please ask the kitchen to prepare her some poultry instead.”

He bowed his head without comment and disappeared toward the kitchen.

“You really didn’t need to do that,” Ivy said. “I’m fine with the vegetables.”

She stopped talking the moment she caught my expression.

“I will never let you go hungry,” I said. “Besides, they were supposed to ask what you’d prefer in the first place. They didn’t. That’s on them, not you.” I held her gaze until she nodded.

“Oh,” she said, biting her lip, and looked back down at her plate like she wasn’t quite sure what to do with that.

The rest of supper went well, and I was already quietly plotting my escape route before my father could corner me again and before Ivy could catch on that I was dodging something. The conversation drifted, Milo cracking jokes, Ivy loosening just a little, even as she kept glancing around the room with that wary curiosity that never quite went away.

Goddess, I still couldn’t help myself, watching her. Under the dim ballroom light, she looked breathtaking. The emerald dress fit her like it had been made for her body, and the plain gold stilettos Milo had picked gave her just enough height that she looked like she belonged right here, beside me.

“You’re drooling, Alpha,” Milo mind-linked, teasingly. “Close your mouth before you soak the table.”

“I’m not,” I shot back, casually reaching for my napkin and dabbing at my mouth like I had something to hide, which fine I did.

“If you say so,” he said, the corner of his mouth curling up.

I rolled my eyes and turned my attention back to Ivy.

“She actually ate all of it,” Max said, sounding genuinely surprised as he took in her clean plate.

“And?” I asked her. “Was it better?”

“Delicious,” she said, with a small smile as she set down her fork. “I’ve never had anything like that before. Compliments to the chef.”

“I’ll let him know the squab was to your liking,” I said.

She tilted her head, her eyebrows knitting. “What’s squab exactly?”

“Pigeon.”

Her eyes went wide. “I…I just ate pigeon?”

“Yeah.” I couldn’t help the grin creeping across my face. “And you said you liked it.”