Chapter 38 – Revelations (Ivy’s POV)
I was having a difficult time stepping out that day. I had returned to my room earlier, had a hot bath and forced a meal down my throat. But all the while, even as I went about the day’s activity, all I could think about was the night before.
Alone in my room, I watched Damian leave. He had caught sight of me before he drove out of the estate, almost like he could feel the heat of my eyes burning into him from behind. A silent message passed between us and I knew he got it right. I was still entirely sick of him.
Eventually, I had to step out of the room and just instinctively, I met Elias. He had a gentle expression on his face, almost like he so wanted to talk about the night before but knew better. I’d rather we didn’t mention a word about it. Knowing this, Elias kept his curiosities to himself and instead chose to guide me towards the study for a brief tour.
“How much do you know about werewolves…about our history?” Elias asked gently.
“Not much,” I admitted flatly, my bitterness undisguised. “Until recently I thought werewolves were fairy tales. Now I’m apparently blood-bound to one.”
Elias nodded thoughtfully. “Damian trusts me to handle... unique situations, such as yours.” He leaned forward in his armchair, folding his lined hands. “There’s an old legend among our kind,” he continued instead of answering outright. “It speaks of a bloodline thought lost—a lineage destined to end only when one of its heirs dies... and rises again.”
I blinked, thrown by the change of subject. “I—I don’t understand,” I stammered, though a cold prickle of intuition raised the hairs on my arms.
He paused meaningfully. “Many dismiss it as myth. But some of us remember ancient bloodlines with unique gifts. Your mother’s family, for instance...” His eyes met mine significantly.
My heart thudded. “You knew my mother?” I asked sharply. Hope and dread warred in my chest. “You have to tell me—”
A sudden crash out in the hall made both of us jump. We shot to our feet as the parlour door burst open and one of Damian’s guards stumbled in, clutching a bloody wound in his side.
“Attack—” he gasped, “They’re here—”
Before he could finish, something yanked him back into the hallway with a choked scream. My blood ran cold.
What the actual fuck?
Elias reacted swiftly, shoving me behind him and drawing a slender sword from inside his cane. “Stay back!” he ordered.
I peeked around his shoulder, heart hammering. Two men stalked into the parlour, eyes wild and grins cruel. One was bald and beefy, hefting a spiked club slick with blood. The other was lanky with a jagged scar across his cheek. They reeked of sweat and aggression—Matteo’s men, no doubt, striking while Damian was away.
“Well, what have we here?” Scarface sneered, eyes flicking between Elias and me. “Matteo will reward us for these ones,” he growled.
Elias’s stance shifted. He tightened both hands on his cane sword. “Ivy,” he murmured urgently, “when I say run, you run. Get as far from the house as you can—do you understand?”
My stomach clenched. Freedom beckoned—this could be my chance to escape. Yet as I glanced from the intruders to Elias’s frail, determined form, dread twisted inside me. “I won’t leave you,” I whispered fiercely.
“Run!” Elias barked just as Baldy lunged with a guttural snarl, swinging his spiked club at Elias’s skull.
In that heartbeat, everything slowed. I could have bolted—I was right by the side door, and chaos shrouded any clear path. But I knew Elias wouldn’t last a minute against these brutes. And something deep in my bones rebelled at letting another person I cared for die in front of me.
So I didn’t run.
With a cry, I snatched the steaming teapot from the side table and flung its boiling contents into the bald man’s face. He screamed as scalding tea splashed over his eyes. His club smashed into the floor instead of Elias.
The scarred man lunged at me with a knife, but Elias intercepted him, parrying with the blade hidden in his cane. “Go, Ivy!” Elias shouted, straining against the intruder’s assault.
Ignoring him, I grabbed the iron fireplace poker and swung with all my might at Baldy. The poker connected with a sickening crunch against his skull. The big man dropped like a stone, out cold.
I barely had a second to marvel at the bent poker in my grip before Scarface shoved Elias aside and charged toward me, knife raised.
With a furious scream, I hurled myself at the scarred man just as he loomed over Elias with his blade drawn. We collided and slammed into a china cabinet, glass shattering around us. He swung his knife at me, but I caught his wrist in both hands, stopping the blade inches from my throat.
He hadn’t expected such strength from me—neither had I.
What the fuck was happening?
Summoning strength I didn’t know I had, I twisted the knife from his grasp and slammed the poker across his face. The scarred man collapsed in a heap, unconscious.
For a moment, the only sounds were my ragged breathing and Elias’s soft groan as he sat up. I stared at the two fallen intruders, my hands shaking around the blood-smeared poker. The surge of power that had coursed through me ebbed, leaving me shocked by what I’d done.
Elias got unsteadily to his feet, using a chair for support. “Good... good heavens, child,” he panted, eyes wide as he surveyed the carnage. Baldy lay motionless in a pool of blood. Scarface was crumpled amid broken china, his head lolling at an unnatural angle.
“I-I didn’t...” I stuttered, dropping the twisted poker with a clang. My knees went weak. Had I truly done that? I’d never fought like that in my life.
Yes, I was a detective and had trained my whole life but this… I had never done this.
Elias crossed to me and placed a steadying hand on my shoulder. “Easy, Ivy. Breathe.” He glanced from the intruders to the bent poker, astonishment and relief mingling in his expression. “They would have killed us both. You did what you had to.” His eyes shone with pride and a hint of awe. “They clearly underestimated you,” he said, a note of wonder in his voice.
Gunshots echoed from deeper in the mansion, followed by panicked shouts. The attack wasn’t over.
Elias grimaced, retrieving his cane sword. “We must move. More of them will be coming.”
He ushered me toward the side door. My mind whirled, still reeling at the strength I’d just mustered. But I shoved those thoughts aside—survival first, explanations later.
Together we slipped out into the dusk, leaving behind the wreckage of the parlour and two very unlucky intruders.