Chapter 154: Babysitting My Wolf

IVY’S POV

Wait, I thought suddenly, the words snapping through the quiet between us. Do we even know where we’re going?

Nyxara hummed lazily in my head. Don’t we?

No, Nyxara. No, we don’t. We just escaped an emotionally repressed mansion and overprotective males. Right now, we’re standing on the edge of the woods like deranged fashion icons with no destination.

Silence.

Then:

Okay, no biggie, she said breezily. We’ve got this. All we need is… a phone. You do have your phone, right?

I blinked, glancing down.

It was still strapped to my thigh…hidden under my pants, secured by the same elastic band I once used to sneak snacks into Dad’s etiquette classes.

May the Goddess bless thighs, Nyxara muttered.

I pulled it free, unlocked it, and my fingers bombarded the screen with questions like: Where to go when you finally escape captivity and want to act completely unhinged and possibly grind against strangers.

Search.

The screen flooded with neon-lit club listings.

Nyxara howled in my mind, the sound pure chaos and glee. We’re going dancing.

My lips quirked, silent, but I nodded.

And drinking, she added, voice like a purr.

Wait, I don’t think I’ve ever—

She shoved my hesitation aside. Tonight, we write history.

Before we moved, I took a mental breath and fixed my focus on her. Hold up. We need ground rules.

Nyxara groaned dramatically. Oh, here we go. Rules. My favorite.

One: No smoking.

Fine.

Two: No kissing anyone.

She gasped like I’d just banned air. What?

Three: No flirting.

A moment of horrified silence. Then—

Congratulations, Ivy. You have officially taken the fun out of fun. I hope you’re proud of yourself.

I’m serious, I told her, my tone firm in my head. We’re going in, dancing, maybe having one drink, then coming home. Just fun. Explore. Then back. No drama.

Nyxara sighed like she was making a noble sacrifice for the good of the realm. I can’t promise you much, she said at last, but what I can tell you is that we won’t be getting pregnant because of tonight. So, you know… baby steps.

I froze mid-step. Why would you even say that?!

Because, she replied sweetly, I want you to know I’m a responsible wolf. Low standards, but still responsible.

Nyxara—

What? You said no kissing. I respect that. But my hips might “accidentally” brush past someone’s hips. That’s not flirting, that’s physics.

I pinched the bridge of my nose, silently counting to three. Stick. To. The plan.

She huffed. Fine. Fun. Explore. Back home. But you’re boring.

I started walking toward the road, while waiting for the cab I called. And you’re insane.

Insanely fun, she corrected. Now let’s go before I start chewing on my own paw out of excitement.

An hour later

The club was called Lucid Sin.

It smelled like lust, sweat, spilled vodka, and bad decisions.

The moment we stepped inside, bodies writhed under strobes and colored lights. The bass pounded like a heartbeat on a warpath, rattling my ribs. My pupils blew wide.

I can’t feel my feet, I sent into the chaos.

That’s called vibing, babe. Go.

I hesitated near the bar. Then I tilted my head back, breathed in the heat, and stepped into the crowd.

The music hit like a tidal wave. My hips swayed, shoulders rolled, hair swinging wild as I spun. My chest ached with the fullness of it—breathless, soundless laughter spilling from me.

I was alive.

Fully, deeply, recklessly alive.

A girl with a septum piercing shrieked beside me, tossing glitter in the air. A guy in gold eyeliner did a backflip in combat boots. Someone pressed a glowing blue drink into my hand.

I downed it.

It burned. Not soft warmth—no.

This was liquid chaos, slamming into my gut like a bomb and setting my veins on fire.

I gasped.

HOLY GODDESS, WHAT IS THAT?! Nyxara screeched.

More, I coughed, slamming the glass down and losing myself in the beat again.

I danced like I was summoning gods.

Like I was exorcising a century of silence.

And then—hands.

On my waist. Fingers curling like they owned me.

No.

I twisted sharply, catching the guy’s wrist. His glitter-coated smirk told me everything I needed to know.

In one smooth motion, I wrenched his arm behind his back, twisted until his bones groaned, and shoved him against the wall. The music drowned out his cry.

His drink dribbled down the brick. His friends froze.

My eyes burned gold as my lips shaped silent words: Wanna try that again?

HELL YES, Nyxara cackled. Break his clavicle.

I shoved him away and melted back into the crowd before the staff noticed.

That’s when Nyxara began her rule testing.

Rule One: No smoking, she echoed in my mind, voice dripping with mischief.

I didn’t even have time to react before she steered my body toward a woman with a lit cigarette. My hand plucked it from her fingers, took one deep drag…purely to “test” it…then handed it back with a wink.

I nearly choked. Nyxara!

Relax, she said innocently. I didn’t buy one. Loophole.

Five minutes later:

Rule Two: No kissing anyone.

I was mid-spin on the dance floor when Nyxara leaned my body dangerously close to a man in a glittering mask. My face hovered inches from his.

No, I warned.

She licked my lips. Just licked them.

The guy froze, utterly confused, and Nyxara laughed so hard in my head I could feel it in my bones. See? Didn’t kiss him.

Ten minutes later:

Rule Three: No flirting.

I was trying to keep a respectable distance from people when Nyxara sauntered…I sauntered…past a group of guys in leather jackets. She let my gaze drag slow over one of them from head to toe, then smirked.

The man’s eyes lit up.

I shot Nyxara a mental glare so sharp it could’ve sliced marble.

What? she said, feigning innocence. I was just admiring the craftsmanship. That jacket stitching was impeccable.

The rest of the night felt less like clubbing and more like babysitting a sugar-high toddler in a glitter factory…one who wanted to touch, taste, and climb on everything in sight.

By the time I stumbled outside, the night air hit like salvation. My cheeks burned, my lungs ached, my legs felt like water. I threw my arms up, spinning in the empty alley…silent laughter breaking over me like light.

A wild girl in the dark.

And then—

“Ivy Blackwood?”

The voice sliced through everything.

I froze. Slowly turned toward the man leaning against the wall just beyond the glow of the alley light.

Tall. All black clothes. Messy dark hair. A smirk that didn’t reach his eyes.

I didn’t know him.

But my adrenaline was still a live wire, my fingers twitching.

I lifted my hands and signed lazily, Who the hell are you?

He laughed. Low. Sick.

“Who would’ve thought I’d run into you in this part of town,” he said, voice curdled with something that made my stomach tighten. “After everything your father did to me.”

He stepped into the light.

Nyxara crouched quietly, waiting for the right opportunity to charge.

He knew me.

But I didn’t know him.

And the look in his eyes told me… I wasn’t walking away without paying for whatever my father did to him.

Lucky for him, I have no problem burning with him, Nyxara hissed.