Chapter 2 - The Awakening and the Venom
In the royal medical wing, four-year-old Toby Sterling was sitting up in bed, happily devouring a carton of apple juice.
When the door opened and Kellen walked in holding Ivy’s hand, Toby’s eyes lit up.
“Daddy!” Toby cheered, then gasped as he saw Ivy. “The flower lady!”
Ivy’s breath caught. She knelt by the bedside, her eyes wide as she looked at the little boy. The black veins were completely gone. His skin was warm, flushed with healthy color, and his chest rose and fell in a steady, effortless rhythm.
“How are you feeling, little prince?” Ivy asked softly, her voice trembling.
“My tummy doesn't hurt anymore,” Toby said brightly. He reached out and grabbed a corner of Ivy’s frayed sleeve. “You chased the scary smoke away. It was biting me.”
Kellen watched them, a strange, heavy ache settling in his chest. For six days, he had watched life drain out of his son. Now, here was a girl who cost the pack nothing, wearing clothes that smelled of bleach, performing a miracle that elite physicians claimed was scientifically impossible.
Suddenly, the heavy double doors of the medical wing burst open.
“Kellen! Thank the Moon Goddess, I heard the most absurd rumors—!”
Lydia Vance swept into the room like a tropical storm. Dressed in a custom silk gown embroidered with silver thread, her platinum-blonde hair styled to absolute perfection, she projected effortless elegance.
She stopped short when she saw Toby sitting up, drinking juice. Her manicured fingers dug into her palms, a micro-expression of pure, venomous disappointment flashing across her face before she quickly replaced it with a radiant, tearful smile.
“Toby, darling!” Lydia cried, rushing forward to hug the boy.
Toby flinched, pulling back into his pillows. He didn't like Lydia; she always smelled too strongly of bitter perfume and pinched his cheeks too hard when cameras were around.
“Careful, Lydia,” Kellen said, his voice dropping into a chilly register. “He’s still recovering.”
Lydia turned, her eyes wide with manufactured concern. She dabbed at a dry corner of her eye with a lace handkerchief. “I was beside myself with grief, Kellen. I came as soon as I heard the miracle worker was here.”
Her gaze shifted from Kellen to Ivy, who was still kneeling by the bedside. Lydia’s eyes narrowed instantly, scanning the torn uniform, the dirt smudged on Ivy’s cheek, and the fact that Kellen was standing protectively close to her.
“Oh,” Lydia said, her voice dripping with condescension. “The cleaning girl. I trust you’ve thanked her for her... amateur intervention, Kellen. But now that the prince is stable, security should escort her back to the lower quarters. She doesn't belong in the royal wing.”
Ivy lowered her head, feeling the humiliation burn hot in her cheeks. She stood up slowly, stepping back toward the door.
“Wait,” Kellen commanded.
Lydia blinked, surprised. “Kellen?”
“Ivy stays,” Kellen said flatly.
“Stays?” Lydia’s voice rose an octave. “Kellen, she is domestic staff! What is she going to do, scrub the floorboards while the prince convalesces?”
“She is going to stay right here where I can ensure her safety,” Kellen replied, his golden eyes locking onto Lydia with a intensity that made the prospective Luna take an involuntary step back. “Because someone in this palace tried to murder my son. And Thorne’s arrest is only the beginning.”
Lydia’s breath hitched. For a split second, panic flickered in her eyes. But she recovered quickly, smoothing her skirt.
“You’re overwrought, my love,” Lydia purred, stepping closer and placing a delicate hand on Kellen’s arm. “The stress of the past week has made you paranoid. Let’s let the royal guards handle the investigations. You need rest. And I can keep watch over Toby.”
Kellen looked down at Lydia’s hand on his arm. For years, the council had pushed Lydia onto him as a political match—a union to cement the alliance between the Sterling Pack and the wealthy Vance lineage. But looking at her now, Kellen felt nothing. No warmth. No pull. Just a hollow emptiness.
May you like
Then he looked across the room at Ivy, who stood quietly by the shadow of the door.
And his wolf howled, demanding he bridge the distance between them.
