Chapter 53: A Walk Among Wolves
Chapter 53:
Ivy’s POV
“Pancakes,” Maren said flatly.
He grunted. “I told you–”
“...that you don’t like sweet things,” Maren interrupted, flipping another pancake with an almost surgical precision. “It's a good thing that they’re not for you then.”
His mouth curved faintly, that mix of amusement and irritation only Maren seemed capable of provoking.
Damian stepped farther into the kitchen, pausing beside the counter. “I thought you swore you’d never make them again after Jason burned half a batch.”
Maren gave him a look that could have flattened mountains. “That was Jason. I don’t make his mistakes.”
Elsa grinned behind her teacup. “He still insists it wasn’t his fault. Something about faulty batter consistency.”
“That’s because he can’t admit he left the griddle on high,” Maren replied.
I looked down quickly, hiding a smile, because honestly? Watching them interact was fascinating. Damian– big, bad, dangerous, Damian, reduced to trading dry one-liners with a woman who clearly didn’t care who he was.
It made him feel almost human. Almost.
“Coffee?” his sister offered, drawing my attention back.
“Please,” I said, grateful for something to hold.
Damian finally looked at me. “Morning.”
I nodded, trying not to sound awkward. “Morning.”
Elsa coughed to hide a laugh. “You two are adorable!” she shrieked lightly, pouring me a cup and sliding it across, towards me. “So,” she said, resting her chin on one hand, “how are you finding life among wolves so far?”
“Quiet,” I said honestly. “Too quiet. I keep expecting someone to appear out of nowhere or… I don’t know, bark at me.”
Damian ignored her, studying me for a heartbeat longer than necessary, as though checking for damage. “I'll be heading out today,” he cut in, “Try not to cause further damage, to my room or any other part of the house,” He said at last, giving a pointed glare at his sister.
We laughed as he stepped out, the door swinging quietly behind him. We ate in relative peace for a few minutes, the soft clink of forks and mugs filling the quiet. The house, for all its size, felt oddly empty. I looked around then, realizing something.
I looked around then, realizing something. “So,” I began, “I’ve been here a few days and I’ve only seen… what, five people? You, Maren, Jason, Damian, and that guy outside who never blinks. Is that… everyone? Does your pack only have six members or something?”
Elsa tilted her head, amused. “You thought this was the whole pack?”
“Well… yeah,” I said sheepishly. “I mean, where are the others? Shouldn’t this place be crawling with ‘werewolves’ or something?”
She laughed, a rich, warm sound that filled the kitchen. “Oh no, sweetheart. Blackthorn has over five hundred wolves, give or take. But they're in the packhouse or their own homes. This is the wrong house if you're looking for crowds.”
I blinked. “Wrong house?”
“This is Damian’s personal home,” she explained.
She gave a knowing smile, “Yeah… he doesn't ususally bring anyone here, so he probably has a soft spot for you.”
Maren shot her a warning look, but I couldn’t help laughing. “You know, that makes a lot of sense.”
“Don’t tell him I said that,” she added with a mock whisper. “He’ll make me scrub the training arena again.”
“Noted,” I said, grinning.
For a moment, it felt almost normal. Sunlight, laughter, good food. If I didn’t know better, I’d think this was just an ordinary morning with friends instead of a breakfast inside a pack’s Alpha house.
After a while, Elsa leaned her elbows on the counter, studying me. “So,” she said, “now that you’re officially awake, what’s your plan for the day?”
“Survive breakfast? Then go stare at the walls in my room?” I offered.
“Ambitious,” she said dryly. “But no, seriously. You can’t stay cooped up in your room forever.”
“I’m aware,” I said. “Jason already told me I’m not allowed to leave the property.”
“Jason’s not wrong,” Maren murmured, still tidying up.
“I’m not talking about the property,” Elsa replied, waving her hand. “I mean the packgrounds. The gardens, the training field, the stables. There’s a whole section of forest that’s been fenced off for private use.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Private use? private as in… secret?”
“Private as in he hates noise,” she said. “And people. And basically, anything that disrupts his brooding.”
I laughed, “What??”
Don’t ask,” she said, grinning. “But our land is gorgeous. If you want, I can show you around. Introduce you to a few pack members who won’t stare like you’re some wild creature Damian dragged home.”
I hesitated. The idea of stepping outside, even just for a walk, sounded like oxygen after being trapped in a sealed room. “You’d really do that?”
“Of course.” Her tone softened. “You’ve had enough locked doors. A little sunlight won’t kill you.”
“Unless Damian finds out,” Maren added without looking up. “And I don’t recall him or the beta approving that.”
“They’ll live,” Elsa rolled her eyes. “And lucky for us, we don't need his approval. Am I right?” She grinned at me.
I bit back a smile. “You sound like you’ve done this before.”
“Let’s just say,” Elsa said, finishing her tea, “I have years of experience sneaking behind my brother’s back. You’ll be in excellent hands.”
I looked toward the window, where sunlight poured through the trees like gold dust. My heart did a strange little flutter.
“Okay,” I said finally. “Show me.”
Elsa grinned, bright and victorious. “Perfect. Finish your pancakes, then grab your jacket. We’ll start with the gardens.”
Maren sighed. “If you get caught, don’t say I didn’t warn you,” she turned to face us, pointing a spatula at Elsa, “ And try not to destroy anything before lunch!”
“Oh, relax,” Elsa replied, already standing. “What’s the worst that could happen?”
I shot her a look. “You do realize that’s the kind of thing people say right before everything does go wrong, right?”
She laughed, looping her arm through mine. “That’s half the fun.”