The Man With Silver Eyes

The Man With Silver Eyes
Chapter 39:

Ivy’s POV

“I bet, huh.”

His tone carried that soft amusement people use when they already know the answer. I wasn’t sure what he was referring to, I hadn’t said anything that demanded that knowing smirk he carried.

“Sorry?” I asked.

He smiled, slow and pleasant, like he was trying to recall a private joke. “You said you’ve had a long week,” he murmured. “I bet it’s been longer than you think.”

I blinked. “Okay… you're being a little cryptic.”

“Maybe.” He leaned an elbow on the counter. “There's nothing strange about being a little cryptic.”

He could be right, but there was something strange about him. His eyes were dead, not like someone trying hard to shut off their emotions but like someone who was either a psychopath who had practiced speaking in social conversations until he thought it sounded perfect.

I slid his cup toward him. “Here you go. Black. That’ll be three eighty.”

He didn’t reach for his wallet. Didn’t even look at the cup I’d set down between us. Instead, his gaze dropped briefly to my throat before coming up to meet my gaze, his  eyes were the color of a dark and stormy sky. “You look tired.”

“Thanks,” I said flatly. “That’s exactly what every girl loves to hear.”

He tilted his head, ignoring the sarcasm. “Do you dream, Ivy?”

I stiffened behind the counter. When had I told him my name? I chanced a look toward the window, and my stomach dropped when I saw that the golden-eyed guard was gone.

I frowned, looking back at him. “Do I what?”

“Dream.” He smiled again, smaller this time. “Humans usually do.”

A tiny shiver worked up my spine. “Do you want sugar with that, or…?” I asked, ignoring his strange statement.

He blinked, almost disappointed. “No. I like my drink…bitter.”

The air between us felt heavier now, like the temperature had dropped a few degrees. From the corner of my eye, I saw Mia ring up another order, oblivious.

The man finally slid a note across the counter, his fingers pale and elegant. “Keep the change,” he said.

I nodded quickly, ready for him to leave.

But instead of turning away, he bent his head slightly, lowering his voice. “You wear the scent well.”

I froze, fingers tightening around the counter edge. “Excuse me? What did you just say to me?”

He looked at me, expression unreadable. “But it’s careless. Unwise. A lot of people easily notice things like that.”

“Okay…” I drawled, backing away slowly. “You’re definitely being weird and rude. Have a nice day. Or not.”

I spun away before he could answer, pretending to check the espresso machine. When I looked back, he was gone. Just gone. The bell above the door hadn’t even chimed.

A chill crawled down my neck.

I stood there, trying to convince myself it could be one of Damian’s guards. Still, my pulse wouldn’t settle.

Mia appeared beside me with a tray. “Earth to Ivy?” She said, waving a hand in front of me.

“Where did you go? You’ve been staring at nothing for the past five minutes.”

“I’m fine,” I lied, forcing a smile.

Mia frowned. “You sure? You look like you saw a ghost.” She grinned. “Is it boy trouble?”

I almost laughed. If only she knew, “No, more like customer troubles.” I answered her.

“What? Did he do something? We can report him to—”

“No!” I cut in, “He was just odd, that's all.”

“Odd how?”

“Existential-coffee odd.”

She laughed and went to deliver an order, and I forced myself to breathe. But as I glanced outside, my stomach twisted.

The tall man with the gold eyes, one of Damian’s supposed guards — was still across the street. Except now he was staring directly into the café, tense, alert.

I followed his gaze. For a second, I thought I saw movement in the reflection of the glass door, a coat slipping past, dark and silent. When I blinked, it was gone.

The rest of my shift dragged, but I couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. Every time the bell jingled, I jumped. When I finally clocked out, I almost sprinted into the rain.

The gold-eyed man had crossed the street. He didn’t approach, just nodded once before turning to scan the alley beside the café. I guessed that was his silent way of saying ‘you’re clear’.

Great. My life had become a werewolf-monitored security operation. But I couldn’t deny the relief blooming in my chest.

I took the subway home, earbuds in but no music playing, watching my reflection in the dark window. Each stop felt too long, each stranger’s glance lasting a second too much.

By the time I reached my building, my nerves were shot. I locked the door twice before dropping my bag on the couch. The note Damian had left the night before was still on the table. I picked it up again, reading the short scrawl until the words blurred.

‘Lock the door.’

My laugh came out thin. “Already ahead of you, Alpha.”

I made tea instead of coffee, wrapped myself in a blanket, and tried to focus on my essay. The document glared at me accusingly from my laptop screen, a blank page where words should have been flowing down.

Somewhere outside, lightning streakes across the sky.The power flickered once, then steadied.

I told myself I was being paranoid. That the creepy customer was just that, creepy. That the gold-eyed guy was probably still standing guard below, bored out of his mind.

My phone buzzed, nearly making me spill my tea.

Unknown Number: “Still awake?”

I frowned. I had Damian’s number saved and Mila. So who could be texting me? A friend from school? 

Me: “Who is this?”

I waited for a minute and then: “Wouldn’t you like to dream?”

My throat went dry.

Me: “If this is some kind of joke, it’s not funny.”

No reply.

I set the phone down, pulse racing. Maybe it was a prank. Someone probably overheard our conversation at the café and thought they’d mess with me. That had to be it.