Chapter 12: Who Is She?

 

Ivy POV

“Are you kidding me?” I said, horrified. “You killed a… I just ate a…”

“You eat chicken, don’t you?” Milo asked, entirely too reasonable for someone discussing pigeon consumption at a dinner party. He looked genuinely confused by my reaction, as if this was the most natural conversation in the world.

“I do. This is different.” I tried to keep my voice level, but my brain couldn’t quite get past the image of tiny city pigeons and now one of them was apparently inside me.

“No, it’s not,” he said. “It’s a bird. It tastes nice, it’s a delicacy, and you liked it. Now you know. Want some more? I’ll order it.”

“No,” I said, pressing my lips together. Why hadn’t Alex just told me? Did anyone in this place eat anything normal? The idea of more ‘delicacies’ made my stomach twist in protest.

“Uhm.” Alex cleared his throat, with a mixture of anxiety and annoyance. “Care to dance?”

“Dance?”

“Yeah.” His eyes flicked toward the exit for half a second. “You know that thing people do where they move their bodies and feet around on a dance floor.”

“I know what dancing is,” I said, shooting him a look. Was this some kind of rescue mission, or just a convenient escape from the pigeon debate?

He grabbed my hand and pulled me up before I could fully process the request. “Let’s go do that.” His grip was warm and insistent, grounding me even as he pulled me to my feet.

What the hell was up with him?

The moment he pulled me away from the table, a sound cracked through the room like a gunshot, sharp, sudden, silencing every conversation at once. “Alex!” The hair on the back of my neck rose.

It was woman’s voice silencing the entire ballroom. My gaze turned toward the sound, watching people actually step aside, clearing a path like they’d rehearsed it for her. Every head turned, the air shifting, and my hand tightened around Alex’s.

Alex hand tightening briefly around mine before his shoulders dropped, like something in him had already given up before the fight even started. His whole body seemed to brace for some kind of impact.

My gaze found the woman who had silent the ballroom. She was small, but there was nothing small about the way she commanded the room. Her blond hair was cut into a sleek bob, her lips painted a deep red. She was dressed like she’d stepped straight off a runway. She walked with confidence that bordered on royalty, chin high, unreadable expression but fierce.

She moved closer, slow and deliberate, her dark eyes locked on exactly one thing- Alex’s hand still wrapped around mine.

“Alex,” she said, voice smooth and cold. “Who’s she?”

Alex slowly turned around, he didn’t let go of my hand, as his face twisted with conflict, his jaw tightened and his eyes gone almost black. His whole demeanor had shifted from easy confidence and now replaced by something sharper and uncertain.

Was she, his girlfriend?

“She is…” Alex started, his voice rougher than I’d heard it all night. Milo appeared at his side in an eyeblink, though he didn’t do much beyond simply stand there.

“I’m Ivy,” I said, letting go of Alex’s hand and extending mine toward her instead.

She ignored it completely, like I hadn’t spoken at all, her attention fixed entirely on Alex. My hand hung in the air a second longer before I let it drop.

“Rude much,” an almost angelic voice chimed in from somewhere nearby. I ignored it, too busy tracking the silent standoff between Alex and the girl in front of us.

Murmurs rippled through the guests as they watched the exchange unfold. I felt their eyes on me, measuring, judging, waiting for someone to make the next move.

“Now, now, my little princess,” a husky voice broke through the tension. “This is not how you greet an old friend.”

It was the same old man who’d been watching me all night. Up close, he seemed younger than I’d first thought, a cane tapping softly against the floor as he approached. His presence seemed to command instant deference from the crowd.

“Grandpa,” the girl said, breaking her stare-down with Alex at once. She turned and went straight to his side. He patted her shoulder and gave her a small, kind smile, the sternness in his eyes softening just a fraction.

“Now, who do we have here?” he said, his eyes shifting to me. “I’m quite sure we weren’t introduced tonight.” His gaze lingered on my face, searching for something recognition, maybe, or a secret only he could see.

I looked toward Alex, searching for help, but it was Milo who came to my rescue.

“Alpha Magnus,” he said, stepping forward. “Let me introduce you to Ivy. A friend of ours.”

Magnus smiled warmly and extended his hand toward me. Milo gave a small nod, and I stepped forward, taking it. The warmth of his hand was strangely comforting like my hand belonged there, which made no sense at all. His grip was gentle, but there was strength beneath it.

“It’s nice to meet you, sir,” I said.

More murmurs rose behind me, and I paid them no attention. Something about this man felt familiar in a way I couldn’t begin to explain.

Magnus held my gaze. “How old are you, Ivy?”

“Grandpa,” the girl hissed. “It’s inappropriate to ask…”

“Hush, Nina,” he said, and she fell silent immediately, though her eyes were blazing.

“I’m not exactly sure,” I said. “The orphanage estimated I’d be turning twenty-one sometime this autumn. Nobody ever gave me an exact date.”

“Mmm,” he murmured, as if considering something. “So, you grew up in a human orphanage.”

I found the phrasing odd, but nodded anyway, not trusting myself to ask for clarification. His attention was heavy, not unkind, but sharp enough to leave a mark.

“Do you know if your parents are still alive?” he asked.

“Grandfather,” Nina said, clearly embarrassed. Magnus waved her off without looking away from me.

I shrugged. “I’m not sure. They could never find them.”

Magnus nodded slowly, and then his thick gray eyebrows knitted together as his gaze dropped to my collarbone. An unfamiliar emotion crossed his eyes a moment later something I didn’t have a name for. He looked almost startled, then quickly masked it.

“That’s enough,” Alex said, finally finding his voice, stepping in close beside me. He put a hand on my back, protective, a silent claim.

“Yes, yes,” Magnus said, straightening. “Indeed. Enough for tonight.” He offered a final, enigmatic smile before turning away, Nina close behind him.

Why couldn’t I shake the feeling this wasn’t the last time I’d see him?