Chapter 4 - The Gathering Storm
The first of the pack leaders arrived at the Blackwood estate exactly seventy-two hours before the gathering.
Ivy watched from the east wing window as a convoy of black SUVs rolled through the iron gates, their tinted windows hiding whatever occupants lay within.
"They're early," Selene appeared at Ivy's side, her voice carefully neutral. "That's not a good sign."
"Could it be a coincidence?"
Selene laughed—a harsh, unamused sound. "Nothing in our world is a coincidence. The moment Damian sent out word that the Sterling heir had been found, everyone started scrambling. Some want to ally with you. Others want to destroy you."
"Which one are you?"
Selene met her gaze directly, and for the first time, Ivy saw something other than hostility in the Beta's eyes.
"I want to survive," Selene answered honestly. "And right now, you're our best chance at that. But if you become a liability, I won't hesitate to cut you loose."
"I appreciate the honesty."
"I don't know how to be anything else," Selene replied. "Now get dressed. Damian wants you to meet the guests."
The dress Selene provided was simple but elegant—black silk that hugged Ivy's curves without being indecent.
A necklace of obsidian and silver completed the ensemble, its weight heavy against her collarbone.
"Protection charm," Selene explained when Ivy touched the pendant. "It won't stop a direct attack, but it should buy you time to shift."
"I can't shift," Ivy reminded her.
"Yet," Selene corrected. "The power is there. You just haven't unlocked it yet. Try not to die before you figure that out."
The gathering was being held in the main ballroom—a vast space of marble floors and crystal chandeliers that had been prepared for this very event.
Ivy paused at the entrance, her heart pounding as she surveyed the crowd of supernaturals who had gathered to evaluate her.
They were beautiful, all of them.
Impossibly, inhumanly beautiful.
And every single one of them was looking at her with predatory interest.
"Alpha Damian, Lady Selene, and the Sterling heir," the herald announced.
Murmurs rippled through the crowd as Ivy stepped forward.
She could feel their eyes on her—probing, evaluating, trying to measure her worth.
One man in particular caught her attention. He was tall, with silver-white hair and eyes the color of winter ice. He moved through the crowd with an ease that suggested he was used to commanding attention.
"Malachi Voss," Damian whispered in her ear. "Alpha of the Northern Pack. He's the oldest and most powerful wolf here besides myself. And he's been searching for the Sterling heir for decades."
"Why?"
"Because he believes the ancient blood is the key to controlling the supernatural world entirely. He doesn't want to destroy the Order or unite against them. He wants to become them."
The Northern Alpha approached with a smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"So," he said, his voice like silk over steel. "The lost lamb finally returns to the fold. I must admit, I expected something more... formidable."
"Appearances can be deceiving," Ivy replied, matching his cool tone. "But I'm sure you already know that."
Malachi's eyes flashed with something that might have been approval.
"Clever girl. But cleverness won't protect you from what's coming. The Order knows you've awakened. They'll send their best hunters to claim your blood."
"I'm counting on it."
"I beg your pardon?"
Ivy stepped closer, channeling every ounce of her grandmother's fierce spirit. "I said I'm counting on it. Because when they come for me, they'll find me ready. And when I'm finished with them, there won't be enough left of the Order to hunt anyone ever again."
The room went silent.
Even Damian looked surprised by her boldness.
Malachi studied her for a long moment, and then he laughed—a genuine, unexpected sound.
"Eleanor's granddaughter indeed," he said. "You have her fire. And her recklessness. But fire without control is just destruction. And I suspect you have a great deal more to destroy than you realize."
The meaning behind his words sent a chill down Ivy's spine.
But before she could respond, the doors to the ballroom exploded inward.
A group of figures stood silhouetted against the flames, their silver armor gleaming in the firelight.
"The Order of the Silver Moon," someone screamed.
Damian pulled Ivy behind him, his body shifting and expanding as his wolf emerged.
But it was too late.
May you like
The hunters had already begun their attack.
And Ivy knew with sickening certainty that she was the one they'd come for.
