Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Ivy's pov

The darkness in the suite wasn't just an absence of light, it was heavy, like a living thing pressing against my skin in some kind of way. I stood frozen on the carpet, the small glass vial of scent-blocker digging into my palm.

Aiden was still leaning against the wall, he hadn't moved a muscle, but his presence right there made me feel like the walls were closing in on me.

"I asked you a question, Princess," he said. His voice was a dangerous whisper that made the hair on my arms stand up.

Princess.

The word sent a jolt of electricity through me. My mind began to spiral, a chaotic whirlwind of "what ifs."

Why on earth does he keep calling me that, does he know? But then how could he possibly know? I had been so careful so far. Was it the way I moved? Or did he recognize the girl from all those years ago? If he knew I was Ivy, then I was already dead. My stomach twisted into a knot of dread.

I swallowed, I had to say something, this was not the time to be scared, I had to be Nick. "He... he was just helping me," I rasped, trying to force my voice into that low, boyish tone. "My room was locked without any prior notice and I definitely didn't want to be sleeping in a room filled with three strangers and he offered me a bed. That’s all."

Aiden finally moved it was the slow, graceful movement of a wolf that had already caught its prey’s scent and was now just enjoying the terror before the kill.

As he stepped into the moonlight, I saw the hard set of his jaw and the way his golden eyes were fixed, not on my face, but on the fabric of the shirt I was wearing.

Suddenly, he was in my space. The heat coming off him was like a furnace. He leaned down, his nose grazing the side of my neck, right over the collar of Jay’s oversized sweatshirt.

I jumped back, my heart nearly leaping out of my chest, but he was faster. His hand shot out, gripping the back of my neck. It wasn't a choke, but a firm, possessive hold that forced me to stay still.

He took a long, deep breath, his chest expanding against mine. Then, a low, guttural growl ripped from his throat, a sound so primal it made my knees shake.

"You smell like him," he hissed, his lips inches from my ear. His voice was thick with a sudden rage. "You smell like fucking Jay Moore."

I gasped, my hands coming up to rest against his chest to try and push him away. "He... he lent me his clothes! I didn't have my bag!"

"Take it off."

The command was absolute 

I froze. "What?"

"I said, take it off," Aiden growled, his grip on my neck tightening just a bit. "I don't want his scent in my suite. I don't want it on your skin."

Panic flared from within me really fast, I had nothing underneath that sweatshirt. If I took it off, the secret I was risking my life for would be over in a second. "No," I whispered, my voice trembling. "I... I can't, I can't possibly take off my shirt."

I expected him to mock my modesty, but instead, he called me that stupid name again. "Don't make me ask again, Princess."

The word finally snapped something inside me. My fear was still there, but the anger that I was feeling was starting to get the best of me "Don't call me that," I snapped, my voice trembling but sharp. "I’m a man and calling me that is degrading. Stop it."

Aiden leaned in, an amused smirk pulling at his lips as he looked down at me. "A man?" he repeated, his golden eyes raking over me with pure disdain. "With a body of a mouse and the bones of a chicken? You’re lucky I call you anything at all, little bird."

He stepped closer, forcing me back until the backs of my legs hit the cupboard. He was so close I could feel the anger coursing through his veins, vibrating in the air between us. "You are not staying in this room smelling like another male. It’s disgusting."

"It's just a shirt, Aiden! Why do you even care?" I cried out.

I didn't understand. To him, I was a boy...a weak, "soft" Alpha. Why would the King of Lycans care if I smelled like another student? But deep down, a part of me was glad. Jay’s scent was so strong on the fabric that it was helping mask the sweet scent of my own skin. It was my only shield.

Aiden’s eyes started to glow gold. He leaned down until our foreheads were almost touching.

"I’m going to say this just this once," he whispered, and the threat in his voice sent shivers down my spine. "If you don't wash his scent off you, I'll do it for myself. I will drag you under the water and scrub every inch of you and I won't care if you're on your knees begging me to stop. Do you understand me, Princess?"

I looked into his eyes and saw no mercy there. He wasn't joking, he was a Lycan King used to total obedience, and I was the girl who had stomped on his foot in public and run away.

"I'll wash," I whispered, my voice small. "I'll go."

He released my neck, but he didn't move back. He watched me with a dark, hungry intensity as I scrambled toward the bathroom. I didn't look back. I practically threw myself inside and locked the door, leaning against it as I tried to catch my breath.

Why is he doing this? my hands were shaking as I pulled off Jay’s shirt. I hated him. I hated the way he made me feel like I was drowning. But more than that, I was terrified of how much power he had over me without even trying, the fact that I knew if I didn't obey him, he would break me.

I turned on the shower and stood under the spray, scrubbing my skin until it was red. I made sure every trace of Jay’s scent was gone, even though it meant my own scent was now stronger than ever in the steam.

When I finished, I realized I had left my bag in the main room. I bit my lip, wondering if I would have to walk out in just a towel. But when I opened the door a bit, I saw my bag sitting right there on the floor in front of the bathroom. 

How was that? It hadn't been there earlier. 

I pulled it inside quickly. Aiden must have dropped it there, it was a strange, silent gesture that made my head spin. One minute he was threatening to break my legs, and the next, he was bringing me my things?

I didn't waste time, I pulled out my binding bandages and wrapped my chest tightly, hiding the curves of my body. Then, I applied the scent-blockers to my neck, the inside of my wrists and knees. I pulled on a fresh pair of black trousers and a plain grey shirt from my bag.

I stepped out of the bathroom softly, one slow step after another.

The suite felt different now, it was still dark, but the air felt emptier. I looked around, my eyes adjusting to the shadows, the 3 beds were empty. The main lounge area was deserted.

It almost felt like the room was empty on purpose. Had Aiden ordered them to leave? A chill ran down my spine. Why would he do that though?

I moved toward the spare bed, my feet sinking into the expensive carpet as I moved to the bed.

I reached the edge of my bed, my heart still racing. I slid under the heavy, silk duvet, the silence of the suite was deafening. I lay there for hours, staring at the ceiling, waiting for the door to open, waiting for anyone of them to arrive but they never did. Aiden had truly cleared the room. I eventually drifted into a restless sleep, haunted by the image of golden eyes watching me from the dark.

When the first rays of gray morning light filtered through the massive windows, I woke up. I sat up quickly, my eyes moving across the room.

Empty.

The other beds were perfectly made, undisturbed. I was still alone. A mix of relief and fresh dread washed over me. I scrambled out of bed, splashed cold water on my face, and reapplied a fresh layer of the charcoal paste. I had to find Professor Valerius. He was my only hope of getting my wolf and getting out of this den of lions.

I stepped out of the suite and navigated the corridors until I reached the massive administrative building.

"Excuse me," I said, leaning over the high marble desk where a stern-looking man was sorting papers. "I'm looking for Professor Valerius, I don't exactly know where his office is but I need to see him."

The man didn't look up. "Professor Valerius is on an indefinite leave of absence. He won't be back for weeks."

My stomach dropped. "Weeks? But I... it’s urgent. Is there an assistant? Someone who knows his research?"

"His assistant is in the lab down the hall, but I don't think you will get anything from him," the man grunted. "And why aren't you in your morning lecture?."

I ignored the question and ran toward the lab. I found a young man in a white coat, but the news was the same. "The Professor took his notes and left," the assistant said with a shrug. "He didn't say where he was going. Now, get to class before the Prefects find you."

I felt like the floor was falling away from me. I was trapped here with no way to find the solution that I needed. Defeated and desperate not to draw more attention from the administration, I followed the sounds of a booming voice into a large, amphitheater-style classroom.

I slipped into a seat in the back row, trying to blend into the shadows.

"...and so," the Professor at the front of the room was saying, pacing back and forth with a book in his hands, "the Silver-Mist pack proved themselves to be nothing more than common traitors. Driven by greed and a lack of true Alpha honor, they slaughtered the Queen in cold blood. They were a rot in our society, and their extinction was a necessary mercy for the rest of the werewolf world."

A murmur of agreement rippled through the room.

"I heard they were cowards," a student near the front called out. "I also heard that the Goddess herself cursed their bloodline for what they did."

The heat started in my toes and roared up to my chest. It was a scorching, blinding anger. They were talking about my home, they were twisting the truth into something ugly and unrecognizable.

Before I could remind myself that I wasn't meant to bring attention to myself, I was already on my feet.

"That’s not true," I said, my voice ringing out through the silent hall.

The Professor stopped pacing. Hundreds of Alphas turned in their seats to look at who had the voice from the back.

"You have something to add...?, you seem new here, what's your name?" the Professor asked.

I gripped the edge of the desk, my knuckles white. "My name is Nicole Martins sir, the history books were written by the victors. You say they were traitors, but has anyone ever looked at the evidence of the coup? You call them rot, but I want to think that they were the only pack that refused to sign the blood treaties that favored the High Council. Maybe they didn't kill the Queen."

The room went extremely silent and everyone stared at me, what did I just put myself into?.

"Careful, boy," the Professor warned, his voice dropping into a growl. "You sound like you’re defending monsters."

"I just might be saying the truth," I replied, my heart thundering. "A pack isn't a monster just because the Council says so."

I felt a sudden, sharp chill on the back of my neck as I felt that familiar, heavy weight of a Lycan’s gaze. I turned my head slightly and saw Aiden sitting a few rows down. He was leaning back, his arms crossed, watching me with an expression that made my skin crawl.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Aiden asked, his voice a low, vibrating rumble that cut through the tension in the room. He stood up slowly, his eyes locked onto mine. "You speak with a lot of conviction for a wolf who wasn't even born when the Silver-Mist burned. Tell me, Nick... What exactly do you know about a pack of dead traitors?"