POV: Ivy

For several seconds, I forgot there were other people in the country club.

Ace stood at the bottom of the staircase, looking far too composed for a man who had woken up that morning in a hotel bed without the woman he'd slept with.

His gaze settled on me.

Recognition warmed it.

So did amusement.

"It's nice to meet you, Ivy."

The bastard.

"You too," I managed.

Chloe didn't notice the tension. She was busy accepting champagne from a waiter while her mother fielded questions from pack elders about Sarah and Dean's engagement—assuring everyone that the alliance was strong and the scandal was merely a "misunderstanding."

That word had been used at least twelve times tonight.

Misunderstanding.

As if Dean's six-month double life were a simple scheduling conflict.

I caught Ace's eye and tipped my head toward a side corridor.

He raised one brow.

I walked away before he could refuse.

The hallway behind the ballroom was dim and quiet, lined with oil paintings of dead Vale ancestors who looked judgmental enough to belong in the room we had just left.

I paced once.

Twice.

The door opened.

Ace stepped inside and let it close behind him.

He leaned against the wall.

"You ran out before breakfast."

"We need to forget last night."

His expression changed.

Not dramatically. Ace didn't seem like a man who wasted emotion where other people could see it.

But the faint amusement disappeared.

"Why?"

"Because it was a mistake."

He went still.

I pushed on before I lost my nerve.

"I am currently the center of a massive pack scandal. Chloe stuck her neck out to bring me here tonight. If people find out I slept with her stepbrother—the future Alpha of the Vale Pack—they won't just call me a homewrecker. They'll call me a climber, and they'll drag Chloe's family into my mess."

Ace's jaw tightened.

"Dean lied to you. Stop carrying his shame."

"This isn't about Dean."

"No?"

"It's about me not becoming the woman who blows up Chloe's reputation by association."

Ace pushed off the wall.

He came closer, stopping before his body touched mine.

"Sleeping with me didn't betray Chloe."

"You don't know that."

"I know exactly that."

The certainty in his voice irritated me.

"You are her stepbrother."

"We met as adults."

"That is not the point."

"Then tell me the point."

I folded my arms to keep from reaching for him.

His scent was worse in a narrow hallway. Pine, rain, something warm beneath it that made my Omega pace under my skin.

"The point is that last night cannot happen again."

Ace's eyes dropped briefly to my mouth.

"Was it a mistake before you learned my name?"

I opened my mouth.

Nothing came out.

I remembered the booth. The water. The way he made me say what I wanted before he touched me. The way he kept asking until I was sober enough to be certain.

I remembered wanting him without knowing anything except the shape of his mouth and the way my body quieted when he looked at me.

No.

It had not felt like a mistake.

That was exactly why I was terrified.

Ace read the answer on my face.

"That's what I thought."

"Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Act like because I wanted you once, I owe you an encore."

His eyes hardened.

"I never said you owed me anything."

The rebuke was quiet, and I felt it immediately.

He was right.

Whatever else this was, Ace had been more careful with my choices than anyone else in my life that week.

I looked away.

"I still need this to stop."

He watched me for a long moment.

Then he nodded once.

"Fine."

The easy agreement hurt more than I expected.

He opened the door.

"Ace."

He looked back.

I had no idea what I meant to say.

Sorry?

Thank you?

Please don't actually forget?

All three were terrible options.

He waited.

I said nothing.

His mouth flattened, and he walked back into the ballroom.

I leaned against the wall and closed my eyes.

My pulse took far too long to settle.

"There you are."

I jumped.

Chloe rounded the corner holding two glasses of champagne.

For one sick second, I was sure she had seen him leave.

"I thought you got lost looking for the restroom," she said.

"Just needed quiet."

She handed me a glass and leaned against the wall beside me.

I studied her profile.

Her makeup was perfect, but exhaustion sat underneath it. She had spent hours pretending to support a political alliance she despised, while her mother paraded her in front of eligible Alphas to prove the Vale family wasn't tainted by the scandal.

"Can I tell you something awful?" she asked.

My stomach tightened.

"Always."

She stared toward the ballroom doors.

"I'm in love with Ace."

The stem of my champagne flute almost slipped between my fingers.

"What?"

"Ace." Her voice dropped. "I've been in love with him for three years."

My skin went cold.

"Chloe, he's your brother."

"Stepbrother," she corrected. "And before you say it, no, we didn't grow up together. My mom married his dad after I was already in college. We met as adults."

She gave a miserable little laugh.

"I know how it sounds. That's why I never did anything about it. The elders would turn it into a scandal. My mother would lose her mind. His father would act like I had tried to burn down the family name."

I couldn't seem to get enough air.

"Does Ace know?"

"God, no."

That answer should have relieved me.

It didn't.

Chloe stared into her champagne.

"That's why I hate watching Sarah cling to Dean," she whispered. "Our families want us to make perfect alliances. My mother keeps saying I need to learn from Sarah's 'grace' and find my own Alpha to marry. I figured if I just kept my mouth shut and committed to a life that made sense, I'd get over the one thing I couldn't have."

She swallowed.

"But watching Sarah swallow his cheating just to keep the ring... it makes me sick. Everyone has a solution for how she should fix it, except the obvious one."

"Which is?"

"To admit she doesn't actually want him."

The honesty in her voice broke something open in me.

Chloe was being pressured, suffocated, and asked to preserve everyone else's comfort while burying her own feelings.

I knew exactly what that felt like.

She set down her drink and rested her head on my shoulder.

"You're the only person I've told about Ace."

Guilt hit so hard my knees weakened.

"Please don't think I'm disgusting," she whispered.

I wrapped my arms around her.

"I don't."

That part was true.

The lie was everything I didn't say next.

I didn't tell her that the man she had loved in silence for three years had spent the previous night in my bed.

I didn't tell her that I could still feel his mouth on mine.

And when she held me tighter, trusting me with the secret she had never told another person, I understood exactly why Ace had looked angry when I called last night a mistake.

I wasn't trying to protect Chloe from something that had already happened.

I was trying to protect myself from what telling her would cost me.

That realization followed me back into the ballroom.

So did one more.

If I wanted to keep my best friend, Ace could never happen again.

POV: Ace

Forget last night.

I made it back to the ballroom before the words stopped burning.

Ivy had looked me in the face and called the first night I had spent with her a mistake.

She had no idea I had been waiting five years for the chance to hear her say my name.

That was the problem.

She didn't remember me.

Five years earlier, at Moon Camp, I was eighteen and sick of being watched like the future Alpha every second of the day. I had slipped away from the bonfire and taken the boundary trail alone.

Halfway to the river, I heard someone scream.

By the time I reached the bank, a girl was already in the water.

Sixteen, maybe. Small. Dark hair plastered across her face as the current rolled her under.

I didn't think.

I jumped.

The river was snowmelt cold and strong enough to drag both of us downstream. I caught the back of her jacket on the second try and fought toward the bank. A submerged branch tore my wrist open when I shoved her ahead of me.

I barely felt it.

She was coughing by the time I pulled her onto the mud.

Alive.

That was all that mattered.

Then her scent reached me.

Faint under river water and fear.

Vanilla. Wildflowers. Something that made my wolf slam against my ribs so hard I nearly shifted on top of her.

Mate.

The word landed with the certainty of instinct.

She was sixteen.

Terrified.

Half-conscious.

So I did the only decent thing I could do.

I wrapped her in my coat, carried her to the medics, and kept my mouth shut.

By morning, her family had taken her home.

I went to Marcus before breakfast.

"Who was the girl from the river?"

He told me her name.

Ivy.

A week later, I left for Alpha training in the Northern Pack.

I told myself distance would help.

It didn't.

Chloe made it worse without knowing.

She mentioned Ivy in calls home. Ivy hated statistics. Ivy had made the dean's list. Ivy had broken her wrist sophomore year. Ivy was applying for a competitive seminar. Tiny facts that should have meant nothing became markers I stored away.

I never contacted her.

She was building a life. I wasn't going to walk into it waving fate like a legal document.

Then Chloe mentioned Dean.

I hated him before I met him.

When I walked into the campus cafe and saw him letting a room full of people call Ivy a homewrecker to protect himself, I came close to losing control.

Claiming she was my girlfriend had been strategy.

It had also been the easiest lie I had ever told.

Then came the nightclub.

She had shoved fifty dollars against my chest, looked at me with tequila-bright eyes, and called me a gigolo.

I should have been offended.

I almost laughed.

I kept her at that booth until she was sober enough to know exactly what she was doing. I gave her every chance to walk away.

She chose me anyway.

That was what had wrecked me.

Not the sex.

The choice.

For a few hours, I let myself believe her wolf had finally caught up with mine.

Then I woke to an empty bed.

And tonight she had told me to erase it.

I picked up a bourbon from a passing tray and forced my shoulders to loosen.

Cornering her would only make her run harder.

I knew enough about frightened wolves to understand that.

Across the ballroom, Chloe stood with her mother and two elders. Dean hovered several yards away looking like a man waiting for permission to approach his own execution.

The engagement wasn't settled.

Sarah had taken off the ring, but her family and Dean's had already begun using words like misunderstanding, repair, obligation, alliance.

Politics could resurrect relationships that should have stayed dead.

I walked over to Chloe.

"You surviving?"

Chloe rolled her eyes. "Ask me after Mom finishes explaining why public cheating is apparently less embarrassing than a canceled wedding."

"Sarah can still say no."

"I know. I wish she'd believe that."

She sounded tired enough to mean it.

I wanted to ask where Ivy had gone.

I didn't.

Instead, I said, "You're still going on the family Moon trip next week?"

"Apparently canceling would signal instability to the elders." Chloe made air quotes. "God forbid anyone think our family has feelings."

Normally, I avoided those trips on principle.

This year, I changed my mind.

"I'll go."

Chloe stared at me. "You told Marcus you'd rather chew glass."

"People evolve."

"You don't."

I ignored that.

"Bring Ivy."

Her suspicion sharpened for half a second.

"Why?"

I kept my face neutral.

"Because she's dealing with the same mess you are. She shouldn't spend four days alone while half the university tears her apart online."

Chloe's expression softened.

Good.

"Actually, that's not a bad idea."

"I have those occasionally."

"Rarely enough that I should document this one."

She walked away to find Ivy.

I took my bourbon out to the balcony.

Cold air hit my face.

I called Ryder.

He answered on the third ring. Pool balls cracked together in the background.

"Tell me you're calling because you finally escaped the engagement-party funeral."

"Clear next week."

"No."

"Moon Camp."

"Absolutely not."

"Bring Elias."

Ryder went quiet.

"Why?"

"Because I said so."

"That answer worked better before you left for five years and came back thinking you're charming."

I looked through the glass doors.

Ivy had returned to the ballroom.

She stood beside Chloe with a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"There's someone I want you to meet," I said.

Ryder made a sound of interest.

"A woman?"

"Don't make me regret calling."

"Too late. Elias is here. You're on speaker."

A calmer voice joined the line.

"If this is about Moon Camp, no."

"Both of you are coming."

Ryder laughed. "Now I definitely want to know who she is."

I hung up.

At the time, inviting my two closest friends seemed smart. Ryder could occupy the security teams. Elias could keep the elders from trying to turn every meal into a political meeting. Their presence would make the trip feel casual.

Most importantly, Ivy would have fewer reasons to suspect I had agreed to attend because of her.

I looked through the doors again.

She glanced up.

Our eyes met across the ballroom.

Her expression tightened before she looked away.

Four days in the mountains wouldn't fix five years of distance.

But it would give me time.

I slipped my phone back into my pocket.

What I didn't know was that I had just invited the only two men in the pack capable of becoming a real problem for me.

POV: Ivy

Moon Camp looked prettier in photographs.

In person, it was wet gravel, cold wind, and a field of expensive SUVs slowly sinking into mud.

I climbed out of my sedan and immediately regretted my thin sneakers.

Chloe had spent the entire drive complaining about her mother, Dean, and Sarah's family in equal measure. After days of pack pressure, Sarah still had not officially put the diamond ring back on, but both families had agreed to call the engagement "under review" instead of dead.

I hated that phrase almost as much as Chloe did.

At least Moon Camp gave us four days away from the worst of the pack gossip.

Or that had been the idea.

We had barely unloaded our bags when the camp coordinator hurried across the clearing with a soaked clipboard.

"We have a housing issue."

A storm earlier that afternoon had triggered a small mudslide on the east side of the campsite. Several guest tents were gone, one cabin had a damaged foundation, and everyone important enough to complain had already started doing so.

The elders claimed the main cabins first.

Chloe's mother pulled her into the large Vale family tent for what she called "strategy" and Chloe called "being held hostage by relatives."

That left me standing beside my duffel bag while the coordinator checked his list.

"One canvas tent remains at the north tree line," he said. "Two unassigned guests."

I followed his gaze.

Ace leaned against a black SUV.

Dark thermal shirt. Heavy boots. That face.

Of course.

"I'll sleep in my car," I said.

The coordinator frowned. "Temperatures are expected to fall below freezing tonight."

"I have a coat."

"Your sedan doesn't have winter insulation."

"It has doors. That's enough."

Ace pushed away from the SUV.

"No, it isn't."

I glared at him.

He came close enough to lower his voice.

"You slept in my hotel bed a few nights ago," he said. "But a tent is where you suddenly discover boundaries?"

My face burned.

"That was different."

"Obviously. The hotel had room service."

"I hate you."

"No, you don't."

A laugh came from behind us.

"Should we come back after the murder?"

Two men approached along the gravel path.

The first was blond, broad, and wearing a grin that made me distrust him immediately. The second had dark hair, a quieter face, and the kind of observant eyes that seemed to register everything before he spoke.

The blond one held out a hand.

"Ryder. And before you ask, Ace is always this charming."

"I'm Ivy."

"I know."

Ace shot him a look.

Ryder's grin widened.

The other man nodded. "Elias."

His voice was calm, almost clinical.

"Nice to meet you."

"Likewise."

I picked up my bag.

"I'm still sleeping in my car."

Ryder looked at the sky. "I'd reconsider that before the next wave hits."

"Everyone has an opinion today."

"Occupational hazard."

I walked away before Ace could say anything else.

By ten, I admitted every man in that clearing had been right.

The storm arrived with freezing rain and wind strong enough to rock my sedan.

My heater, which had survived winter through a combination of prayer and denial, chose that night to produce nothing but a faint clicking sound.

I wrapped myself in a fleece blanket.

Ten minutes later, my teeth were chattering.

The parking area turned to soup. I could feel the rear of my car settling lower as mud swallowed the tires.

A knock hit the driver's window.

I jumped.

Ace stood outside in the rain.

His hair was soaked. Water ran down his jaw.

I cracked the window.

"Go away."

"Your back tires are buried."

"I noticed."

"The drainage ditch is overflowing. If the water rises another few inches, you won't be able to open the rear doors."

Thunder rolled across the mountain.

I looked behind me.

Mud had climbed halfway up the tire.

Damn it.

"Get your bag," Ace said.

"Don't order me around."

"Fine. Freeze politely."

I hated him a little for making me laugh.

I grabbed my duffel and shoved open the door.

Rain hit me sideways.

My foot slid the moment I stepped into the mud. Ace caught my elbow before I fell.

"I've got you."

The words landed strangely.

I pulled free once I had my balance.

"I can walk."

"Then walk faster."

We ran for the tree line.

By the time we reached the remaining tent, my hair was plastered to my face and water had soaked through every layer I wore.

Ace zipped us inside.

The storm became a muted roar against canvas.

He switched on a battery lantern.

Warm light filled a space that suddenly looked much smaller than it had from outside.

One tent.

Two sleeping bags.

Ace.

Me.

Fantastic.

"You can change behind that divider," he said.

I blinked.

A hanging canvas panel cut off one corner.

"You're not going to make another joke about the hotel?"

"Not while you're shivering."

That answer took some of the fight out of me.

I changed into dry clothes and stepped back into the main space.

Ace had stripped off his soaked thermal and replaced it with a gray long-sleeved shirt.

The sight should not have mattered.

It did.

His scent was trapped inside the sealed tent.

Pine and storm.

My Omega stirred.

Not the casual awareness I felt around other Alphas. This went deeper, pulling somewhere behind my ribs.

Ace noticed.

His shoulders went rigid.

For once, neither of us made a joke.

I watched a bead of water slide from his hair to the side of his throat.

My mouth went dry.

I took one step toward him before I realized I was moving.

My hand lifted.

Ace caught my wrist.

Not hard.

Just enough to stop me.

His thumb rested over my pulse.

"Ivy."

The warning in his voice was almost worse than a touch.

I looked up.

His eyes had gone dark.

"Are you sure you want me to forget?"

I should have said yes.

I had rehearsed yes for days.

But my body had never been good at lying around him.

Footsteps splashed through the mud outside.

Ryder's voice cut through the canvas.

"If you two are done pretending you hate each other, we have a problem."

Ace released me and moved between me and the entrance in the same breath.

"What happened?"

Ryder's humor was gone.

"Rogue scent on the northern perimeter. More than one. They're circling the camp."