Chapter 4
Ivy’s POV The nausea hit me like a crashing wave, sudden and forceful. It wasn’t the kind that came from eating too little or standing too long—it was deeper, sharper, as if something inside me was being twisted by unseen claws. I clutched my head and leaned against the hallway wall just outside the gathering room, trying to breathe through it. This was new. My wolf was restless, pacing, ears pinned back, tail low—not in fear, but in wild discomfort. I had no idea what was happening to us, only that I had to get away. Now. The hotel staff had given us access to private rooms above the venue in case we needed rest during the gathering. I found an empty one and slipped in, locking the door behind me. The moment I stepped inside and shut out the suffocating crowd and mingling scents of alphas and betas, my body began to calm. My breath steadied. The nausea ebbed into a dull throb, and my wolf, though still alert, quieted. I sat on the edge of the bed for a long while, breathing in the scentless air, my head bowed low. Maybe it was stress. Or maybe it was the humiliating introduction Ethan gave back there—denying our marriage, calling me just Ivy while Farah stood beside him glowing like a smug little star. But just as I began to gather myself to return downstairs, I heard the door click. I turned sharply, startled. The knob twisted, and Farah slipped in, not even pretending to knock. She closed the door behind her with a soft click, her scent wafting in like poison. “Well,” she said, her smile stretched thin and sharp. “If it isn’t the perfect Luna, hiding away while the real guests enjoy the event.” I didn’t rise. “What do you want?” She walked slowly toward me, heels clicking like warning signals. “You always do this,” she said with a fake sigh. “Act like you don’t care. But you do. You’re so desperate for Ethan’s love, even now, after everything.” I looked at her evenly, my voice quiet. “I’m not desperate. You can have him all you want.” She scoffed, crossing her arms. “Like I need your permission. You were never his first choice. Hell, you weren’t even a choice. You clung to him like a weed after I left years ago, thinking being Luna would make you worth something.” My stomach twisted again, stronger this time. My knees buckled slightly as I stood. I didn’t understand what was happening to me—why my entire body felt like it was rejecting the air itself. “Whatever game you’re playing, Farah,” I said through clenched teeth, “I’m done playing it with you.” “Oh, I’m not playing,” she said, and then—without warning—turned on her heel and walked to the door. Before leaving, she looked over her shoulder and added with syrupy malice, “You might want to rest a little longer. You look sick.” Then she locked the door from the outside. I rushed after her, but she was already gone. I jiggled the handle—it wouldn’t budge. She’d even hung a “Do Not Disturb” sign on the knob. I could hear the click as it settled. When I thought the strange feelings subsided, it resurfaced once again. And then it all hit at once. My knees gave out and I collapsed onto the bed, my body burning from within. My wolf howled inside me—desperate, frantic, needing. But needing what? My mind tried to reach out, frantically calling through the mindlink. Alpha Ethan. Ethan, I need— Nothing. Silence. No answer. I curled into the bed, shaking and burning and breathless. My skin prickled like fire ants crawling just beneath the surface. My wolf clawed at my insides, and my heart pounded so hard it hurt. The nausea, the heat, the need in my chest—I didn’t understand any of it. I felt like my body was desperate of something. And just like that, everything faded. Darkness swallowed me whole. Third Person POV The alpha gathering wound down with laughter, wine, and hollow declarations of alliance. But Ivy did not return. Alpha Ethan stood with a drink in his hand, his arm loosely around Farah’s waist. He glanced around the thinning crowd once or twice—but only because Farah commented absently, “She must’ve gone home early. I think I saw her looking upset.” Ethan didn’t even pretend to be concerned. “She’s dramatic,” he muttered. “Always sulking when things don’t revolve around her.” Farah offered a pitying look. “Well, I do feel bad. I hope she doesn’t do anything…rash.” Ethan chuckled, sipping from his glass. “She’s not that unpredictable. She’ll be fine.” And with that, he ushered Farah toward the car that would return them to the Foreland Pack. Not once did he look back. Not once did he ask anyone where his Luna had gone. The next morning, a cleaning lady at the hotel knocked softly on a private room door. When there was no answer, she entered to tidy up—and gasped. Ivy was still on the bed, unconscious. Her skin was pale, but her body was covered in a light sheen of sweat. Her breathing was shallow, and her temperature burned beneath her skin. “Oh, Goddess,” the woman whispered. “Miss?” Ivy stirred slowly, blinking groggily as if waking from a fevered dream. “Do you need a doctor? I can call someone—” “No,” Ivy rasped, struggling to sit up. “No, I’m fine.” She wasn’t. She gathered her composure and forced her body upright, every muscle protesting. She didn’t know what had happened to her last night. But she knew it had been real. Her wolf still trembled inside her, confused and needing something—or someone. She left the room quietly and hailed a cab. In the back seat, she found her phone tucked in her handbag. Several missed messages blinked on the screen—but none from Ethan. Not even one. Instead, her eyes fell on a string of messages from a name she hadn’t expected to see again so soon. Alpha Vincent. [I saw you last night at the alpha gathering, but you disappeared. I’m sure of it. Where did you go?] [I tried to find you but I started feeling sick… damn it. It was strange.] [Are you alright?] [If you don’t answer, I’ll send my elite wolves to find you.] [Also, I can’t wait weeks to get you out of Ethan’s Pack. I’ll give you a few days. After that… I’m coming to get you.]