CHAPTER 2

"Really, Blake?" I let out a dry, jagged laugh that cut through the tension in the room. "I remember you saying you’d rather exile yourself to the frozen wastes than share a den with Talia. What changed? Did her family’s territory suddenly make her scent more bearable?"

Talia’s face flushed a blotchy, angry red. She snarled, her upper lip curling to reveal small, sharp canines. "You bitter bitch! How dare you speak to the future Luna of this pack like that?"

I didn't blink. "Future Luna? I didn't realize the Ryder pack had lowered its standards to 'whoever is left standing after the bankruptcy.' Good for you, Talia. You finally found a way to be wanted—by being a consolation prize."

"Cora, enough!" Blake snapped, though he looked more humiliated than angry. "Don't take your bitterness out on her. Talia’s family is loyal, which is more than I can say for yours."

Diane Ryder stepped forward, her presence heavy and suffocating. "I thought you were a lady of the High Pack, Ivy. It seems losing your status has turned you into a common cur. You’re barking at people who are far above your station."

"At least I'm not selling my son to the highest bidder just to keep the borders secure," I retorted.

Diane’s eyes flashed a dangerous, predatory yellow. She raised her hand, her palm flat and ready to strike. "You ungrateful—"

"Enough."

The word wasn't loud, but it carried the weight of a mountain. The air in the foyer suddenly felt twice as heavy, a thick, Alpha-grade dominance settling over us that made everyone’s inner wolf whine in submission.

Cole Ryder stepped out from the shadows of the hallway. He looked devastating in his dark suit, his predatory grace making every other man in the room look like a pup.

"Byron!" Diane gasped, quickly lowering her hand and smoothing her hair. "This... this girl wandered in here and started insulting the family. She was trying to extort money from Blake."

I braced myself. I knew Cole saw me as a mistake—a ghost of a night he’d rather forget. I expected him to order the guards to throw me out into the rain.

Instead, Cole’s gaze swept over the room, landing on Diane with freezing intensity. "And that gives you the right to strike a guest in this house?"

The silence was deafening. Even Blake looked stunned. Cole, the 'Ice King' of the West Coast, was defending the girl who had just insulted his lineage.

"Uncle, she was out of line," Blake managed to stutter. "She needs to learn her place."

"And you need to learn how to handle your business without your mother’s hand around your throat," Cole rumbled. He looked at me, his eyes unreadable. "Apologize."

Blake blinked. "What? Uncle, I—"

"Apologize to Ivy. Now."

The humiliation on Blake's face was a balm to my soul. He muttered a choked "I'm sorry" through gritted teeth. I didn't acknowledge it. I didn't want his hollow words; I wanted to be as far away from this den of vipers as possible.

"Our bond is dead, Blake," I said, my voice steady for the first time. "Keep your money. I'd rather starve than owe a Ryder anything."

I turned on my heel and walked out, my head held high even as my heart hammered against my ribs.

I was halfway down the rain-slicked driveway when the low hum of a luxury engine approached. A black Ryder Global transport pulled up beside me. The window slid down, revealing Cole’s sharp, divine profile.

"Get in," he commanded.

I didn't argue. I was exhausted, and my pride had already taken enough hits for one day. I climbed into the leather-scented warmth of the backseat.

Cole didn't look at me at first. He was focused on a digital tablet, his fingers scrolling through pack reports.

"You’re drowning, Ivy," he said eventually, his voice low. "How much do you need for Elaine’s treatment at Pacific Heights?"

"I'm not a charity case, Cole."

"I don't give charity." He pulled out a checkbook, scribbling a number that made my head swim. 100,000. Twice what I had asked Blake for. He held it out. "Consider it a loan. Or a f*e. Whichever helps you sleep."

I looked at the paper, then back at him. "If I take this, you'll think I'm exactly what Diane said I am. A stray looking for a handout in exchange for... last night."

Cole’s lip quirked into a ghost of a smirk—dangerous and dark. "I don't pay for what I can take by right of being Alpha, Ivy. But if your pride won't let you take the gold, perhaps you’d prefer to earn it?"

"Doing what?"

"SkyDeck 71," he said. "The pack’s elite lounge. They need someone who knows the tastes of the High Houses to promote the new vintage of Wolfsbane Whiskey. Work the evenings. I’ll ensure the pay covers your mother’s bills."

That night, the SkyDeck was crawling with the wealthy and the powerful. I was dressed in a gown of midnight blue that clung to every curve, moving between tables with a tray of crystal glasses.

"Byron, I heard you had a run-in with your nephew's discarded mate," Mason Clark laughed, leaning back in his chair in the VIP section. He leaned closer to Cole, eyeing the faint marks on Cole’s neck that hadn't quite healed. "Word is she's a hellcat. Half the Alphas in the city are waiting for her to officially hit the market now that she's unclaimed."

Cole’s grip on his glass tightened until the crystal groaned. "She isn't 'on the market,' Mason."

"Oh? Because she looks pretty available from here," Mason nodded toward the floor, where a group of bloated, mid-tier Alphas had cornered me.

One of them, a greasy man with a wandering gaze, grabbed my wrist. "Come on, darling. If we buy the whole case, do we get a private tasting in the back?"

I tried to pull away, my inner wolf snarling under the surface. "The whiskey is for sale, sir. I am not."

"Everything is for sale when your father is a thief," the man sneered, reaching for my waist.

Before his hand could make contact, the air in the lounge turned sub-zero.

"I believe the lady told you no."

The group scrambled to their feet as Cole appeared. His aura was no longer controlled—it was a physical weight, a promise of violence.

"Mr. Ryder! We were just... joking around," the man stammered.

"You aren't high enough in the food chain to joke with her," Cole said, his voice a lethal whisper. He turned to the manager. "Remove them. Ban them from every Ryder establishment from here to Zurich. If I see them on my lands again, they leave in a crate."

As the guards dragged them out, Cole turned to me. His eyes were no longer those of a businessman. They were the eyes of a wolf who had found something he intended to keep.

"Go to the penthouse, Ivy," he growled. "We have a 'next time' to discuss."