Chapter Eleven

IVY’S POV

I woke up with my skin itching and a hotness in my body that made me uncomfortable.

My chest felt squeezed tight, my breath rough against my throat. I kicked off the heavy silk duvet, but the air in the room felt thick and suffocating. My fingers twitched, itching for something I couldn't put a name to, pulling at the threads of my nightgown just to give my hands something to do.

Unable to lie still, I reached for the button beside the bed and pressed it twice, alerting the maid.

"I need a bath," I rasped the moment the maids entered, my voice tight and raw. "Make it cool. Please."

They moved without a word. Water splashed against marble in the adjacent room, sending up plumes of steam laced with crushed lavender and dried chamomile.

When I stepped into the deep porcelain tub, the cool water bit into my heated skin, sending a long shudder down my spine. I sank down until the water lapped at my chin. My shoulders dropped an inch, and my racing pulse slowed slightly, but deep beneath my ribs, the jagged edge of irritation remained. The tension wasn't in my muscles; it was deeper, coiled tight around my core.

After drying off, I let the maids dress me in a simple white linen gown. I stepped back into the bedroom, freezing when I saw Doctor Rachel arranging glass vials on her silver tray.

“Good morning, Ivy,” she said, her voice smooth and measured as she turned to face me. "How did you rest?"

I kept my arms crossed tight over my belly, my fingers digging into the linen. “I’m jumpy, irritated, my mind feels and my skin feels hot, and I can't sit still.”

Doctor Rachel set down her pen, her gaze tracking the small, restless movements of my hands. “Your body is seeking safety, Ivy. Your baby’s bond is waking up, and it’s reaching for your mate. You need Leo’s presence.”

My throat tightened, a cold knot forming in the center of my chest. I looked down at the dark mahogany floorboards. “He scares me.”

She tilted her head, watching me closely. “Has he done something to frighten you?”

“No,” I whispered, my gaze darting around the room as I tried to find the words. “It’s just... when he gets close, my lungs freeze up. My whole body tenses up as if expecting an attack.”

“That is your mind’s shock response, not your wolf’s,” Rachel explained softly, leaning against the edge of the table. “Your body remembers pain, but Prince Leo is the one who brought you here. He won't hurt you. I can write a prescription for a mild sedative to quiet your nerves, but medicine can't fix a broken bond. You need to be near him, even in small ways.”

I stared at the floor, offering only a faint, tight nod.

Once she gathered her supplies and left, the silence in the room pressed in on me again. The four walls felt closer, heavy and suffocating. I needed air.

I pushed the heavy bedroom door open and stepped out into the hallway. This wasn't a sprawling royal palace yet, but one of Leo's quiet, secret mansions hidden away from the city. The corridor was silent and secluded, lined with polished wood and soft lighting.

A few maidservants in plain gray dresses moved quietly along the walls, their heads bowed low as they worked. Their soft, submissive Omegas' scents barely registered in the air, giving me a rare moment of breathing room away from heavy, threatening dominant auras.

I stopped near a maid polishing a bronze candle holder. “Where is Prince Leo’s room?” I asked softly.

The girl lowered her cloth, dipping into a low curtsy as she pointed down the hallway. “At the very end of the hall, My Lady. The room on the right side.”

I walked down the quiet corridor, my leather slippers making no sound against the thick runner rug. There were no guards stationed inside the house, all the security remained outside the mansion grounds, which was a relief. My chest eased slightly, free from the crushing weight of powerful werewolf presence that usually terrified me.

I reached for the cool brass latch, pushed door open, and slipped inside.

His suite was vast and cold. Dark mahogany paneling lined the walls, lit only by the grey daylight filtering through the windows. I walked slowly over the dark marble floor, my eyes searching the space. There were no framed photographs on the desk, no personal trinkets on the mantelpiece, no color on the dark gray velvet sofa. It felt more like an impersonal hotel room than a home.

A cracked door near the back wall caught my eye. I pushed it open, stepping into a massive walk-in wardrobe lined with tailored dark suits, heavy coats, and crisp shirts.

Then a thick, heavy scent filled my nose…cedar, crushed pine needles, and the sharp, something else I could not explain. The moment I inhaled, the frantic itches under my skin cut off instantly. The heaviness and suffocation I felt in my chest loosened, my lungs expanding fully for the first time all morning.

My legs felt weak. I stepped deeper into the closet, reaching out with trembling fingers until my hand brushed against a soft, black cotton polo hanging on a rail.

My mind screamed at me to step back, to get out before someone found me touching his things, but my hands acted on their own. I pulled the shirt off the hanger and pressed the heavy fabric directly against my face, drawing in a long, shuddering breath.

The scent poured into my senses, warm and intoxicating. A deep shudder ran through my core, washing away the restless heat that had nagged at me since dawn.

Put it back, a quiet voice in my head warned.

"He's my mate," I muttered into the fabric, my cheeks flushing hot as I clutched the shirt against my chest. "It's just a shirt." I squeezed my eyes shut, whispering the words over and over, desperately trying to convince myself that I wasn't doing something crazy.

I turned, tucked the black shirt tight under my arm, and slipped out of his suite. My heart hammered against my ribs with every step I took down the hallway, my eyes darting left and right until I reached my room and threw the bolt shut.

I pulled the oversized black shirt over my head. The shoulder seams hung low down my arms, and the hem fell past my thighs, covering me entirely in his scent.

I climbed onto the mattress, pulled the heavy silk duvet up to my chin, and dragged the wide collar of the polo right over my nose and mouth. I took one long, deep breath, and the last lingering ache in my head vanished. My eyelids grew heavy, the constant edge of panic dissolving into the deep, earthy scent of cedar and storm. Before I could process the strange comfort, my body gave in, sinking into a deep, dreamless sleep.