And throughout it all, my thoughts kept returning to them - the pack who should have been here. Every instinct inside me reached for them, and no amount of logic could stop it. My omega biology recognized them whether they recognized me or not. Somewhere deep inside, my omega still believed they were mine. Every time another wave of pain rolled through me, my body cried out for comfort that would never come.
I managed to get some form of awareness halfway through, my tears soaking into the carpet as I hugged a pillow against my chest and tried to breathe through the agony.
"They were supposed to know," I whispered. The words became a mantra, a chant that helped me process my pain. The matching system had identified us. Everything had pointed toward them. Yet when I finally gathered enough courage to tell the truth, nobody believed me. Not even the men who were supposed to be able to recognize me above everyone else.
By the fourth day, something inside me began to change. The grief remained, but the need started to lessen. And part of me had changed, too.
For months, I had spent every waking moment hoping someone would finally see me. Waiting for Pack Vale to realize their mistake, see through the deception. I spent all that time wishing that my family would admit what they had done, and that Araella might finally admit the truth. But now, I just lay on the floor, on my own, with the realization that I’d been avoiding.
No one was going to save me. No one was going to suddenly wake up and realize my worth. The more I thought about it, the calmer I became.
No, they weren’t coming to save me. But as I rolled on my side, breathing through another wave of pain, I looked at my desk. The little decorative paintings my mother and I had made on the side of it when I was just a kid still remained. She had always believed in me. She encouraged me to learn, to experiment, andget my ideas out of my head and into the world. It was because of my mother that I had the little confidence in me that still remained.
In my haze, I imagined what she’d say if she saw what had become of me. I could almost see her here, kneeling down.Ivy, you don’t need them to save you.
I could practically hear her voice in my head. I shook my head. No. Why would my mom say that? Of course I needed them.You don’t need them to save you. You never have.
I tried to make sense of it. The vision of my mom smiling down at me, with an understanding that I didn’t quite catch, made me tear up again. Then I realized something. Maybe I didn’t need them, or anyone else, to save me. Before anything, I needed to save myself. Truthfully, I’d stopped trying to fight years ago. Now, I needed to change.
By the time the heat finally began releasing its grip on me, I felt strangely finished, almost empty. But not in a bad way. Like I had released the need to be recognized by anyone other than myself. The constant ache had burned itself out. I pushed myself up one morning, finally having enough strength after the heat subsided. For the first time in months, my mind felt clear.
Pack Vale had chosen Arabella. My family had chosen Arabella. I couldn't control that. What I could control was whether I continued chasing people who didn't want me. And for the first time, the answer was no.
When I finally had enough strength, I walked to the door, stumbling a bit before pulling the handle. There was a beta guard stationed outside, who looked at me with a frown.
“It’s over,” I said, my voice exhausted. He nodded once and stepped aside. I walked into the hallway on shaky legs. My body felt weak, my muscles sore from days of isolation and exhaustion, but something fundamental inside me had changed.
The old version of me would have emerged from that room still hoping. That girl had been left behind. Now, I had a plan. And I wasn’t going to let anyone stop me. I crept down the hall, my body spent and reeking of strong perfume after days of going through a long, delayed, painful heat with no assistance. But I took the stairs, step by step, until I made it to the kitchen. At first, there seemed to be no one else around. But to my relief, I found exactly who I was looking for. When Mara turned to see me, she dropped the plate she was holding, her face horrified at the sight of me.
“Ivy!” She gasped, rushing toward me, her hands shaking as she inspected my body. “Oh, Ivy, I tried to come in. They had a guard denying entry to your floor!” She said, and I just looked at her with bleary eyes. The guard didn’t surprise me. Mara tried to help support me as I leaned against the counter, hoping I had enough energy to execute my plan before anyone realized.
“Mara,” I whispered, a wry smile on my face. “It’s time,” I said. She looked at me closely, leaning in as she held my face in her hands.
“Time for what?” She asked.
“Time for me to finally get out,” I said, looking at her with determination. Mara nods slowly, understanding in her eyes.
“Ivy, you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to see you stand up.”
Chapter 36
Elias
I sat in my study, reading the literature that went over bonding and long-term success. I’d explored these topics before, but now I had a renewed interest. Arabella had been begging us to bite her after the launch party catastrophe. She claimed she wouldn’t feel safe until she was bonded to us. Hunter was also pushing for us to bond with Arabella soon, and though Ronan wasn’t opposed to it, he hadn’t shown the enthusiasm I thought he would at the prospect. But to me, nothing about it felt right.
I was a doctor - I’d treated patients with all types of issues, bonded and otherwise. But after studying hundreds of successful bonds, one pattern emerged again and again. The healthiest, happiest packs weren't simply compatible - they were deeply enamored with one another. You could just see it in the way they were around each other.
I didn’t feel that with Arabella, and I didn’t even feel right about my own pack. In fact, we were more distant than ever. Hunter was rushed, his own worries about ending up in an unhealthy bond driving his decision-making. I could feel his stress through our bond. Ronan just felt distant. He was never one to be open about his feelings, but lately he felt closed off, even when he was trying to care for Arabella. She should have calmed them and helped unite us. Our pack should feel closer, not strained. None of this made me want to bond.
My mind kept drifting back to Ivy’s face, tears in her eyes as she cried out that Arabella had stolen her profile. It sounded impossible. Yet… My mind wandered to when we’d first met Ivy. Even the memories of those days brought a smile to my face. Yes, she was unstable, and she had attacked Arabella, even supposedly stealing from her. But I had to know for certain what was going on.
I was sitting in my office reviewing another bonding study when I heard a soft knock against the door. I looked up to see Arabella standing in the doorway. She smiled immediately, her expression brightening in a way that should have made me happy. And with the scant robe she was wearing, I certainly should have been more excited.
"Working again?" she asked playfully.
"When am I not?" I replied, eyeing her up and down.
She laughed and stepped inside. Over the past several weeks, I had begun noticing something I couldn't quite ignore. Everyinteraction with Arabella felt too polished. Everything she said seemed perfectly tailored to what she thought we wanted to hear. She was charming and affectionate, yet I couldn't remember a single conversation where I felt like I had actually learned something real about her. I knew trauma could affect the way she acted - but she didn’t even show the usual symptoms of past trauma. It puzzled me.
