New Walls, Old Promises

New Walls, Old Promises
Chapter 41:

Ivy’s POV

I’d barely stepped out of school when I saw him. Of all the places I expected to see him again, standing directly outside my school gates was the last.

Damian Blackthorn stood near the main gates, leaning against a black SUV parked by the curb, rain dripping from his hair onto his dark shirt–he looked even more handsome wet. Innuendo intended. Students passed him, glancing once before looking away too fast, as if something in them knew not to stare too long.

Of course he’d come here. Of course. My first thought was that something terrible had happened. My second was that I didn’t want to care.

I clutched my bag tighter and tried to pretend I didn’t see him. It didn’t work. His gaze found mine the instant I stepped out from under the covered walkway, because, apparently ignoring him wasn’t an option.

Great.

He started toward me, calm and deliberate, parting through the small groups of students like they were nothing but ghosts.

“Damian,” I hissed under my breath when he was close enough. “You can’t just show up here, you should’ve texted like a normal person.”

He looked infuriatingly composed, like nothing could shake him. “I did call. You didn’t answer.”

I checked my phone and found out he was right. “Yeah, I was in class.” I crossed my arms. “You know that thing people do when they need a degree to work?”

His lips curved slightly. “You won’t have to worry about that for a while.”

I frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Ivy.” His voice softened, too much for my comfort. “We need to talk, but why don't we get in the car.”

“About what?” I crossed my arms, very aware that a few people were starting to look our way. “Because if this is about the guards again–”

“Get in the car, Ivy.”

“No.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly not used to being told no. “It’s raining.”

“I’m aware.”

“It’s not about the guards.” His jaw flexed once before he exhaled. “Someone was in your apartment.”

The air left my lungs. “What?”

“I checked the locks myself,” he said quietly. “They’d been tampered with. Whoever it was didn’t take anything, which means they weren’t looking for money or electronics. They left everything in place.”

My stomach dropped. “You broke into my apartment?”

He ignored that. “You’re not going back there. Not tonight. Not ever.”

“You can’t tell me where to live,” I snapped. “And you sure as hell can’t stalk me to school like some dark knight with boundary issues.”

That earned a faint, pained smile. “If I didn’t show up, you’d already be in danger.”

I glared at him. “You don’t know that.”

“Yes,” he said, stepping closer. “I do.”

Something in his tone made my pulse skip. He wasn’t bluffing.

Still, I hated the way the world seemed to shrink when he stood this close. I hated that even my anger didn’t keep my body from remembering how his touch felt.

I opened my mouth, closed it, then exhaled sharply. “So what…you’ve already found my next cage?”

His jaw tightened, but his tone stayed even. “It’s not a cage. And it’s already been arranged.” He looked around once, scanning the crowd with quick, assessing eyes before lowering his voice. “You’re coming with me.”

“Excuse me?”

“I found you a new place.”

My jaw dropped. “You what??”

“It’s secure,” he continued, oblivious to the storm brewing in my chest. “Safer part of the city, warded entrances, private access. No one can reach you there.”

“Damian, that’s my home!” I shrieked.

“It was your home,” he corrected, his voice dipping an octave lower. “I’ve covered the lease. You won’t owe a cent. The landlord knows it’s paid in full. Consider it handled.”

“Handled?” My voice rose. “You don’t get to make decisions like that! You can’t just buy me a new apartment like—like I’m some estranged wife you need to relocate!”

His gaze softened in a way that made it worse. “That’s nothing to me, Ivy. I’d trade kingdoms if it meant keeping you breathing.”

For a moment, I forgot how to argue. There was something so raw in the way he said it, unpolished, almost painful. But then the realization struck again, cutting through the haze: he’d already made this decision without me.

“No.” I jabbed a finger at his chest. “Don’t do that. You can’t just show up at my school and tell me my life’s been moved like I’m some chess piece you get to reposition because it makes you feel better.”

I shook my head. “You should’ve asked.”

“I couldn’t risk it.”

“That’s not an excuse.”

“It’s the truth.”

The silence stretched. Raindrops ran down the side of his face, glinting under the streetlight. The tension between us felt alive, like a string stretched taut.

Finally, I said quietly, “Where is it?”

He exhaled. “Uptown. Safer neighborhood. Private access, guards, reinforced locks. You’ll have your own space. You won’t even know they’re watching.”

“You mean your pack,” I muttered.

“They’re loyal,” he said simply. “And they don’t fail.”

I wanted to protest more. To tell him that I didn’t need a bodyguard, that I could take care of myself. But the words wouldn’t come. Because under all my anger, there was something else — the bone-deep fear that maybe he was right.

I've seen too many strange things lately to keep pretending everything is normal.

So I got in the car.

The building he drove me to didn’t look like anywhere I belonged. It was quiet, sleek, and expensive. Like really expensive. 

The elevator opened directly into the apartment. The new apartment didn’t look like something a person lived in. It looked like something out of a real estate magazine, with clean lines, pale wood and wide windows that faced the skyline. It smelled faintly of rain and cedar. His scent again.

I turned in a slow circle. “Let me guess…you own this building?”

His mouth twitched. “How'd you guess?”