The Grounds Of Blackthorn

The Grounds Of Blackthorn
Chapter 54:

Ivy’s POV

The air outside smelled different, cleaner… and sharper somehow. Like the scent of the earth after a light rain and something faintly floral.

Elsa grinned as I hesitated on the porch. “See? The big, bad wolf hasn’t bitten anyone yet."

“Give it time,” I muttered, stepping down the last step. “I’m still not convinced this isn’t against some unspoken law."

“Oh, it is,” she said cheerfully. “But that’s what makes it fun."

The path wound away from Damian’s house, cutting through the trees and opening into a stretch of cobblestone and trimmed grass. The main house, the ‘packhouse’, as she called it, rose ahead like something out of a painting. Wide balconies, ivy curling up stone walls, and the faint chatter of voices inside.

“Most of them live here?” I asked quietly.

“About half,” Elsa said. “The rest have family homes scattered through the territory. But this is where most of the action happens–training, meetings, meals, arguments…" She smirked. “Mostly arguments."

I smiled despite myself. “Sounds peaceful."

“Depends on the day."

We passed a small courtyard, where a few people, wolves, were sparring shirtless in the sun. My steps faltered when one of them caught sight of me. The clang of metal stopped.

Elsa noticed instantly. “Ignore them,” she said, waving off the gawkers. “They’re not used to seeing humans around here."

“Well, being a human is normal,” I muttered under my breath, though it sounded more like I was trying to convince myself.

Elsa heard anyway. “Not here,” she said softly. “But don’t let them define what that means for you."

I nodded, not trusting my voice.

The path curved again, leading past rows of flowering shrubs and toward an open field. “The training grounds,” Elsa said, motioning toward the expanse of trampled earth and wooden targets. “Do not, under any circumstance, step inside unless you want to get knocked over."

I grinned. “I’ll keep that in mind."

A pair of teenagers darted past, one chasing the other with a wooden staff. The taller one nearly tripped over his own feet when he spotted us, then flushed crimson and bolted.

Elsa chuckled. “New recruits. They think anything with boobs is terrifying."

“Understandable,” I said lightly. “Maren terrifies me most of the time."

“Good,” she said. “That means she's doing her job."

We walked farther, past the stables, rows of sleek, muscular horses that looked as wild as the wolves themselves. One snorted as I reached out tentatively, and Elsa caught my wrist.

“I wouldn’t,” she said, half-smiling. “That one belongs to Damian. He only lets her near him. She’s got a mean bite."

“Like owner, like horse?”

“Exactly.”

We both laughed, and the sound felt strange in the open air, like I’d forgotten what laughter could sound like without some random meaning being woven into it.

The path split ahead, one way leading toward the woods, the other toward what looked like a massive garden enclosed by a low wrought-iron fence. Elsa motioned toward it. “Come on. This is my favorite part."

The garden took my breath away. It wasn’t just flowers, though there were plenty of those, vibrant bursts of color against the green, but the herbs, too. Rows of lavender, sage, rosemary, and plants I couldn’t even name. The scent was intoxicating.

Elsa knelt to pluck a few sprigs of mint, twirling them between her fingers. “Maren keeps half of these for the kitchen. The rest, we use for healing. Wolves heal fast, but herbs make the process easier."

I crouched beside her, brushing my fingers over a patch of silver-leaved plants. “What’s this one?”

“Lunaria,” she said. “Moon herb. Supposedly grows stronger on full moons." She looked up at me then, her expression softening. “You should come out here when you can’t sleep. It’s quiet, and the air clears your head."

I smiled faintly. “You think I’ll still be here long enough to get bored?”

Her grin faded just a little. “You’ll be here longer than you think, Ivy."

Something in her tone made me glance up, but she was already standing again, dusting her hands. “Come on. I want to show you the lake before Jason notices we’re gone."

The lake was a short walk away, hidden by trees that opened like curtains to reveal water so still it looked like glass. The reflection of the clouds shimmered on its surface, framed by rocks and wildflowers.

“This is beautiful,” I whispered.

Elsa smiled, but it was softer this time. “It’s one of the few places Damian doesn’t step foot in unless he has to. Which makes it perfect for hiding from him."

I toed at the edge of the water, the cool ripples brushing against my shoes. “You’re serious about him not knowing we’re out here?”

“Oh, very,” she said. “He’d probably drag us back by the scruffs of our necks if he knew."

“Sounds fun."

She snorted. “It wouldn’t be the first time."

We sat for a while, the quiet stretching between us, broken only by the occasional rustle of wind through the trees. It was… nice. Normal. For the first time in days, I could breathe.

“So,” I said after a long pause, “what’s it like? Living in a pack like this? With… rules and ranks and everything?”

Elsa tilted her head, thinking. “It’s complicated,” she said finally. “It’s loyalty and chaos. Family and war. You love them, hate them, and still fight for them. It’s home, even when it doesn’t feel like it.”

Her words lingered long after she fell quiet.

I looked across the lake, the reflection of the forest shimmering faintly. For a second, I thought I saw movement, just a flicker of something dark near the opposite bank.

I blinked. Nothing. Just the wind.

Still, the hairs on my arms rose.

Elsa noticed. “What?”

“Nothing,” I said quickly. “Thought I saw something."

She followed my gaze, her eyes narrowing. “Probably one of the patrols. They circle the lake during the day."

I nodded, but I couldn’t shake the feeling. The forest looked still, but something about the silence had changed.

Elsa stood and brushed off her jeans. “Come on. Before Jason sends out a search party."

We started back up the path. I looked over my shoulder one last time. The lake gleamed like glass again, empty. But for a second, just one, I swore I saw a ripple that hadn’t come from the wind.