Chapter 4

Ivy's POV

"Miss, do you even know how to carry a tray properly?"

The woman's voice was sharp enough to cut through the glittering music in the ballroom. My cheeks burned instantly, but I lowered my head, forcing a polite smile.

"I'm sorry, ma'am. I will be more careful."

She scoffed and waved me off like I was dirt under her heels. "You better, people like you should at least learn to do your jobs properly."

I nodded, swallowing down the sting of humiliation. The tray in my hand felt heavier than it was, my wrist was already aching from hours of holding it. I moved quickly, weaving past gowns that brushed the marble floor and polished shoes that probably cost more than my rent for a year.

The chandeliers above shone like a thousand stars, but to me they only mocked my situation. They belonged to a world so far from mine. I wasn't a guest, I wasn't anything here. I was just a shadow, a servant, running until my lungs burned.

In the corner, the staff table waited with bottles of champagne and wine. I set down my nearly empty tray, exhaled, and refilled it carefully. My hands shook, but I forced myself to keep steady. If I broke one glass, it would come out of my pay.

I whispered under my breath, "A few more hours, Ivy. You can make it."

By the time I turned back toward the crowd, the music had picked up again. Laughter spilled across the room, loud and carefree, so different from the pounding of my heart. I slipped between the guests, offering glasses with a tired but polite smile. Some ignored me, others muttered thanks without looking me in the eye.

I was invisible.

"Hey, sweetheart."

The voice came from a man slouched against a column, his tie loose, his shirt half unbuttoned. His eyes were glassy, his cheeks blotched red from alcohol. I froze, trying to smile.

"Yes, sir?"

He reached out, brushing his fingers along my wrist as he plucked a glass from the tray. His touch made my skin crawl.

"Pretty little thing like you," he slurred, swallowing half the champagne in one gulp. "Why are you running around like a servant? Come, sit with me. I will show you how a real man treats a woman."

I pulled my wrist back gently. "I'm working, sir."

He chuckled, the sound grating and loud. "Working? Carrying drinks doesn't work. You are just a tray girl. Be grateful I'm even talking to you."

I clenched my teeth, bowing my head slightly. "Please excuse me, I need to serve the other guests."

But his hand shot out again, gripping my arm. His fingers dug into my skin, and I gasped quietly.

"Don't be shy," he said, pulling me closer.

"Girls like you should know their place, do you know how many would beg for a chance like this? A chance to catch the eye of a man like me?"

My throat went dry, people were watching now. Some smirked, others whispered. Not one of them moved to stop him.

"Let me go," I said softly.

He leaned closer, his breath was thick with whiskey. "Say thank you first, thank you for even noticing you, waitress. Or should I call you servant?"

Laughter rippled around us. My ears rang, my face burned with shame.

"I said let me go." This time my voice cracked.

He sneered. "Ungrateful little bitch." With one sharp move, he tipped his half-full glass onto me. Cold liquid splashed across my uniform, dripping down my chest and soaking into my apron.

Gasps filled the air, some people chuckled, my body shook with the effort to hold back tears.

"You should smile," he continued, his voice cruel. "No one here cares about you. You are just here to carry drinks, that's all you will ever be."

The tray in my hands trembled, glasses rattling. My chest ached so badly I thought I would collapse right there on the marble floor.

My aunt's words echoed faintly in my head fighting for your dignity, Ivy. No one will hand it to you.

But I couldn't fight him. My arms were weak, my voice was small, and my body was trapped.

And then I heard a deep voice.

"Take your hand off her."

The words sliced through the ballroom like a blade. The voice was low, controlled and dangerous.

The man holding me froze. I did too, slowly, we both turned.

Damian Blackthorns was standing a few feet away, his tall frame showed through the crowd. His black suit fit him perfectly and his sharp jaw was set with pure rage. But it wasn't his suit or his wealth that made my knees weak, it was his eyes.

They weren't cold like on the screen I had seen earlier. They were burning, burning with a fury that made the air around him heavy. And those eyes were locked on me.

The drunken man scoffed. "And who the hell are you to tell me what to do?"

Damian's steps were slow, deliberate, each one echoing across the now silent hall. Guests parted for him without a word, some lowering their gazes, others watching wide-eyed.

"I said," Damian repeated, his voice low enough to vibrate in my bones, "take your hand off her, now."

The man's grip on me loosened, but he didn't let go completely. "Oh, I see," he slurred. "You want her too? Hah! You can pay for her later. Isn't that what girls like this are for? To be bought?"

My heart sank into my stomach. The humiliation was unbearable.

Damian's eyes darkened, and before I could even blink, he was there. One swift motion, faster than I could follow, and his hand closed around the drunk man's wrist.

The man shouted instantly. "Ahh! What the-"

Damian twisted the wrist backward with unrelenting force. The drunk man fell to his knees, screaming. The crowd gasped, some covering their mouths in shock, others frozen where they stood.

"You don't touch her," Damian growled, his voice a dangerous rumble. "You don't touch any woman. Do you understand me?"

"Let me go!" the man shrieked.

Damian's grip tightened. His jaw flexed, and in one final motion, there was a final loud crack.

The sound was sickening, echoing across the glittering hall. The man's scream tore through the silence.

My tray slipped from my hands, the glasses shattering on the marble floor. I didn't care, my whole body shook as I stared at Damian, at the fury in his eyes.

Chapter 5

Damian's POV

"Humans never fail to surprise me," Jason muttered beside me as we walked into the brightly lit hall. His voice was filled with mockery as his sharp eyes scanned the crowd.

"They dress themselves like kings and queens just for a single night, pretending life is perfect."

I gave him a side glance. "You shouldn't speak like that, not all humans are the same."

Jason raised an eyebrow. "You've gone soft, Damian. They drink, laugh too loud, and spend more than they can afford. They forget the world outside this golden hall is filled with people starving."

I said nothing, he wasn't wrong, but something in me hated how bitter he sounded. The gala was alive with chatter, music spilling from the grand piano, chandeliers glimmering over polished heads. Women in long gowns drifted across the marble floor, their perfume heavy in the air.

I adjusted my tie, my chest tightening. The moment I stepped inside, a strange tension gripped me. My wolf stirred restlessly within, his growl echoing in my mind.

"What is it?" Jason noticed my sudden stiffness.

I inhaled slowly and then I froze. It was sweet, intoxicating, warm like vanilla yet sharper, pulling me in with invisible threads. My body went rigid, my heart pounded against my ribs, each beat louder than the music.

"Damian?" Jason's tone sharpened. "What's wrong?"

"I... I smell her," I whispered, barely believing my own words.

Jason blinked. "Her? Don't tell me-"

"Yes." My eyes swept through the crowd with urgency. My wolf howled inside, recognition burning like fire through my veins. "My mate."

Jason's face hardened in disbelief. "Here? In this hall? Among humans?"

I ignored him, I had to find her. My gaze darted past the clusters of laughing men in tuxedos, past women sipping champagne delicately. Then, suddenly, I saw her

She was nothing like the others. No jewels, no designer gown. She wore a simple black and white uniform, her chestnut brown hair pulled back, a tray balanced carefully in her hands as she moved swiftly from one table to another. Her face was flushed with effort, her steps quick, almost invisible in the grand crowd.

My chest tightened painfully, a human. My mate was a human.

Jason followed my gaze and let out a low whistle. "No. This can't be, she is a server. Look at her clothes. Damian, this is impossible."

But it was not, I could feel it. My wolf clawed at my insides, desperate to run to her, to claim her, to shield her from every set of greedy eyes in the room.

"She is mine," I breathed, my throat thick.

Jason shook his head. "You are going to ruin everything if you-"

Before he could finish, a sudden disturbance cut through the air.

A drunken man in an ill-fitted tuxedo grabbed her arm harshly, making her stumble. The tray almost slipped from her, the man's voice boomed. "You should smile," his voice was cruel. "No one here cares about you. You are just here to carry drinks, that's all you will ever be."

Her face flinched, her lips parting in shame as every eye turned toward her. I felt fury coil inside me, It was white-hot and uncontrollable.

Jason cursed under his breath. "Damian, don't-"

But I was already moving.

I crossed the room in powerful strides, the crowd parting unconsciously as though they sensed something dangerous. My voice came out low, cold, deadly.

"Take your hand off her."

The both of them slowly turned towards me at the sound of my voice.

"And who the hell are you to tell me what to do?" The man shot back, my wolf was already pacing wanting to be let out.

"I said," I repeated, my voice was low enough to deliberate "take your hand off her, now."

The man's grip on her loosened, but he didn't let go completely. "Oh, I see," he slurred. "You want her too? Hah! You can pay for her later. Isn't that what girls like this are for? To be bought?"

My glare silenced him instantly one look was enough. He staggered back, releasing her arm like it had burned him.

My eyes darkened, and in one swift motion, my hand closed around the drunk man's wrist.

The man shouted instantly. "Ahh! What the-"

I twisted the wrist backward with unrelenting force. The drunk man fell to his knees, screaming. The crowd gasped, some covering their mouths in shock, others frozen where they stood.

"You don't touch her," I growled, my voice was a dangerous rumble. "You don't touch any woman. Do you understand me?"

"Let me go!" the man shrieked.

My grip tightened, my jaw flexed, and in one final motion, there was a final loud crack.

The sound was sickening, echoing across the glittering hall. The man's scream tore through the silence. I pulled my hands off him and he ran away.

The tray slipped from her hands when I turned to look at her, the glasses shattering on the marble floor. She stumbled, almost falling, but I caught her. My hand closed around her small wrist, steadying her against me. For a moment, time stopped.

Her wide eyes met mine startlingly clear, filled with shock. And then it happened, the spark.

A jolt of raw electricity surged through me as our skin touched. It was unlike anything I had ever felt before, powerful and undeniable. My wolf roared in triumph inside me. She felt it too. I saw it in the way her body trembled, her lips parting in confusion.

For a heartbeat, the entire world narrowed to just us.

I pulled out my handkerchief, pressing it gently into her palm. Her dress had a splash of liquid down the side. "Here," I said softly, my voice was hoarse. "Wipe it off."

She blinked at me, stunned, her hand shaking as she accepted it. My fingers brushed hers again, and another wave of electricity shot through both of us. She gasped quietly.

I couldn't look away, I had faced battles, led wars, stood unshaken against enemies but standing here before this fragile human girl, I felt undone.

"Are you alright?" I asked, my voice lower, gentler than I thought possible.

She nodded quickly, her eyes dropping, her cheeks flushed. She couldn't even hold my gaze. That hurt more than it should have.

Behind me, Jason coughed pointedly, reminding me we were not alone. The room was still staring, whispers rising in waves. But I didn't care, my eyes remained on her, my mate.

She looked like she wanted to vanish into the ground. I wanted to tell her she had nothing to fear, not while I breathed.

But then, suddenly, she pulled away.

"I...I need to go," she whispered breathlessly, her voice breaking.

Before I could react, she turned and ran.

"Ivy!" I heard someone from the serving staff call her name, but I was already moving after her.

I shoved through the crowd, ignoring the stares, my pulse hammering in my ears. She was fast, weaving between tables, slipping past startled guests. My wolf urged me forward, desperate, frantic.

"She is scared," Jason's voice rang from behind, but distant. "Damian, wait!"

I didn't wait, I pushed through the heavy doors into the night air, scanning the marble steps outside. But she was gone.

The street beyond was empty, only the faint sound of a car engine somewhere far away. My chest heaved, frustration and panic colliding inside me.

How could I lose her so quickly? My mate, My other half.

Jason caught up, his breath was steady. He laid a hand on my shoulder. "Damian, she is a human. Do you understand what this means?"

I didn't answer, my hands curled into fists, my wolf clawing inside me with restless fury.

She was mine, human or not, and I wasn't going to let her slip away.

CHAPTER 6:

Damian's POV

The next morning, I walked into Blackthorn Enterprises with the same confidence and calmness I always carried wherever I went, which I admit was part of my charm.

The sun was high, but the glass walls of the building made everything feel cooler and somehow sharper, as if reflected dazzlingly off the cool pair of sunglasses I wore.

As soon as I stepped through the doors of Blackthorn Enterprises, the whole lobby went silent, and phones stopped ringing while people froze mid-step.

I felt their eyes, both humans and werewolves alike, aimed straight at me. The women were the worst, and more than a few of them gasped softly when they saw me, while others tried to hide their smiles, and some waved or tossed their hair in that way they thought was subtle enough to catch my attention.

This was all normal for me and I wasn't entirely new to all of this. There were always ladies swooning at the sight of me and eager to catch my attention, though I suspected that the humans would immediately pass out if they were to find out who I truly was, or rather what I was.

I kept walking calmly. I had seen it all before and wasn't in the slightest bothered about their reactions. Their stares slid over me but I didn't return them as I pressed the button of the elevator and waited.

A pair of girls near the reception whispered, and I saw one brush her hair back and look at me, fluttering her lashes, but again, I ignored it. I had no interest and not now of all times.

The elevator doors opened, and I stepped inside while the silence in the lobby stayed behind me like a shadow I had left behind me.

When I reached my floor, the corridor was quiet too, and a few staff members greeted me nervously as I passed. I nodded but didn't stop. My mind was somewhere else.

I finally pushed open the door to my office and walked in. Everything was in place as always, with expensive shelves, a wide desk and my floor-to-ceiling windows showing the beauty of the city. I sat down slowly in my chair and sighed heavily.

The moment I leaned back, the memory hit me again, and one name and one image came to my mind.

Ivy.

Her name came back as clear as her face and the way she had looked up at me after I caught her with the warmth of her skin when our hands touched, and also the spark that had raced through me when we connected.

I rubbed the back of my neck unconsciously. I had tried not to think about her last night when I got home but it hadn't worked and even now I couldn't push her out of my head.

A knock sounded at the door, interrupting my blissful thinking.

I had heard the footsteps with my heightened senses long before, and I knew the scent too well, Jason.

"Come in," I said.

The door opened, and Beta Jason Stark walked in as calm as always. He held a folded newspaper in his hand and, without a word, he placed it on my desk.

I frowned and picked it up.

The headline made my chest tighten slightly.

'GIRL FOUND DEAD AFTER GALA – THROAT SLIT:

I stared at the words for a long moment with my hands stilled on the paper.

Jason didn't speak yet. He only watched me.

"What is this?" I asked at last, though I already knew.

"Keep reading, Sir," he said quietly.

I skimmed the article.

'A young woman had been killed in the woods near the hotel. Witnesses heard screams but no one saw the attacker and he police believed an animal had done it.'

Beta Jason reached for the remote and switched on the television on the wall, where a news anchor was already speaking.

"...authorities are now ruling the attack as a possible wild beast incident, pending further investigations," the reporter said, and a picture of flashing lights in the forest filled the screen.

"Shut it off," I growled.

Jason switched the TV off without hesitation, and silence settled in the room with Jason's gaze stayed fixed on me, steady and almost accusing.

"What?" I asked.

"I'm worried, Sir," he said at last. "Why did you kill that girl last night?"

I leaned back in my chair, and my voice stayed calm.

"I didn't plan to. My wolf was distressed, and she followed me when I told her not to. I warned her, Jason. She wouldn't listen."

His jaw tightened slightly.

"Sir, that doesn't change the fact that you lost control. We can't afford mistakes like that. Do you realize what could have happened if someone had seen?"

"We weren't exposed," I said simply.

"Not this time," he replied. "But the risk is real. One slip like that and the entire pack could be at risk. The humans don't know about us and they can't."

I pushed the paper aside.

"I know the rules, Beta. I didn't mean for any of it, and I shifted because I couldn't hold it back. She came after me when she shouldn't have."

Jason stayed quiet for a few seconds in contemplation. He was the only one I could consider close to a friend, and only he addressed me this way. Our bond was stronger than friendship; we were brothers.

He spoke again with a voice lower but firm.

"Are you sure no one else was there? No one saw you?"

I hesitated, and my mind went back to the forest. I could remember the run and the pain when the change hit me, and also the way the girl screamed when she saw what I was, and then, regrettably, the blood.

But after that... things blurred. I knew I saw a shape, another person, standing in the dark, but I couldn't see their face, and my memory stopped there, as if a curtain had been pulled across it.

I forced myself to meet Jason's eyes.

"There was no one else," I said.

He studied me, as if trying to read more than my words and then he sighed and turned to look out the window for a moment.

"We might have a problem with Lucien D'Amato," he said finally...