IVAN’S POV
She wanted .
Even after all this ti, the pull between us was still there.
Maeve may be an insufferable piece of work, but she was right about one thing—she wasn’t the sa woman I knew five years ago.
The Maeve I used to know had been sweet. Submissive. A natural pleaser.
This Maeve—the she-wolf locked in a battle of wills with —was sothing else entirely.
She was fire and confidence wrapped in soft, dangerous curves. And Goddess help , it made her even sexier. The best part was that she still wanted .
Even as we threw barbs at each other, even as I held her flush against , her body told everything her mouth refused to say.
The warmth of her skin, the way she trembled, the breathy rise and fall of her chest—I knew that look.
My wolf snarled against the walls of my control, clawing to break free. To claim her. I wondered—what would she do if I kissed her?
Would she scratch, bite, fight? This new Maeve seed the type.
But Serena—
My supposed bride.
I wasn’t that much of a bastard. But she was probably outside the door, tearing herself apart, wondering how much longer I would stay locked in here with her forr best friend.
Five years ago, I had chosen Serena as a breeder because it was the logical thing to do.
She showed up with whispers of Maeve’s drinking, pictures, promises of heirs, and the perfect pedigree. My parents approved. So I agreed.
And Maeve had felt betrayed. But back then, I hadn’t been able to bring myself to care. Duty ca first. The pack ca first.
Then she left.
And for months, I forced myself to forget she ever existed. But the bond didn’t let .
It twisted inside , dug its claws into my soul, until I had no choice but to acknowledge it—to acknowledge that I missed her. Craved her.
And now, after five years, with her body flush against mine, it took everything in not to taste her.
I didn’t deserve this closeness, but fuck, I wanted it. She had filled out—fuller breasts, softer curves, wider hips.
I’d bet my left nut she looked even better naked. I was already hard thinking about it.
"Ivan," she rasped, snapping back to the present. "Let. . Go."
She struggled against my grip, her wrists twisting in my hold. For the first ti, I really looked at her—beyond my own desires.
She looked... shaken. Not just angry. Not just guilty. But resentful.
I released her imdiately, like she was made of fire.
Clearing my throat, I stepped back, putting space between us.
If she noticed the strain in my trousers, she was doing a damn good job pretending she didn’t. It made question—what the fuck was I doing?
I had co here for answers—and all I’d done was act like a pup in heat.
Pathetic.
Anger boiled inside , my nostrils flaring with the force of it.
At myself, for losing control. At her, for crashing back into my life like a fucking storm and ruining my plans in the span of an hour.
And worse—at this reckless attraction that refused to die.
"You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?" I bit out.
Maeve’s breath was still shaky as she stared at , back against the shelf like she was forcing herself to stay put instead of running from .
"What the hell are you talking about?"
I gestured between us.
"This. Crashing my wedding. Wrecking everything. You always did love turning my life into a goddamn ss. You think you’ve got cornered with the claim that your son is mine?" I leaned in slightly, my voice dropping to a harsh whisper. "Guess what, Maeve? Until that DNA test proves it, your boy is just so other wolf’s bastard you’re trying to pin on ."
It was a lie. And I knew it the second the words left my mouth.
Asha was mine. I felt it in my bones, in the primal, gut-wrenching way a wolf recognized his own blood.
But if I admitted that—if I accepted it without question—then I’d have to face the truth I’d been trying to ignore since she walked in with him.
I had a son. A son who had spent five years without . A son who had never known , never needed .
That realization sat like a rusted blade between my ribs, eating at in ways I wasn’t ready to confront.
So, I said the one thing that would make Maeve feel even a fraction of the bitterness clawing at my insides.
"Are you trying to call a liar?" she asked slowly, dangerously.
"Wouldn’t be the first ti sothing like that happened."
"I would never lie about sothing as important as this."
"You kept it a secret from for five years. Who knows what other secrets you’re hiding?"
The accusations spilled from my lips faster than I could stop them. But maybe I didn’t want to stop them.
Maeve looked like she wanted to set on fire. How the hell did we get here?
One minute, we were at each other’s throats, the next, we were drowning in a thick fog of lust, barely restraining ourselves from ripping each other’s clothes off.
It unsettled —how easily she pulled under. How much control I had almost lost. It proved what I already knew.
Maeve Oakes was dangerous.
And until I figured out why she was really here, I had to treat her like the enemy she was.
"How can you accuse of trying to pass another wolf’s son as yours?" she seethed, breath coming out in huffs as she stord toward . "I know things were rocky between us when we were married, but you of all people should know that I would never lie to you about this."
I rolled my eyes. "Wouldn’t be that surprising if you did."
She stiffened. Good.
"Last ti I checked, you were a drunk who couldn’t tell the difference between a miscarriage and an accident. Maybe you would have—if you hadn’t taken to drinking so—"
The slap ca like a lightning strike.
Brutal. A perfect snap of skin against skin.
And I let her do it.
I had been baiting her for it, waiting for the blow. Anything to drag out of whatever spell she had under.
"How dare you?" Maeve gritted out, fists trembling at her sides. For a second, I thought she might hit again. I almost wanted her to.
"You have no right to throw that in my face." Her voice was raw, shaking with rage. "You must have a fucking death wish, Ivan Cross. I may be standing in your shitty pack right now, but if you think I’m going to take your bullshit in stride like I used to, then you’ve got another thing coming."
She was furious. The angriest I had ever seen her.
And damn if it didn’t make want her more.
I flexed my jaw, forcing my expression into sothing cold and indifferent.
"All I did was state the truth, Maeve. You’re the one who can’t handle it."
She let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. "This just confirms what I’ve always known about you."
I arched a brow, amused despite myself. "Oh? And what’s that?"
"That you’re a worthless scumbag. And sohow, you’ve only gotten worse."
I smirked. "Hate to break it to you, sunshine, but you’re not the first she-wolf to say that to , and you sure as hell won’t be the last."
Her breath hitched, nostrils flaring. I could tell she was seconds away from trying to claw my face off.
"One of the worst things that ever happened to was being mated to you," she spat. "I can’t wait to break this damn bond and finally sever whatever twisted connection exists between us."
"The feeling is incredibly mutual, sweetheart."
Her lips parted like she had more to say—maybe another insult, maybe another slap.
And for one twisted, fucked-up second, I wanted her to.
"Fuck you."
Then she spun on her heel and stord out, leaving to stare after the sway of her ass.
I exhaled sharply, raking a hand through my hair.
She was wrong about one thing.
I was already fucked.
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