CHAPTER 70: CHAPTER 70: GOOD OL’ FATHER-AND-SON

IVAN’S POV

I counted to three in my mind.

One.

Two.

Three.

A soft breath left my lips as I darted my eyes around the threshold, trying to gather my wits and my sense of pride.

Maeve was framing the doorway.

From what I could see of her frame, she was wearing a loose white linen shirt, half-tucked into high-waisted shorts, the sleeves rolled up.

At least it wasn’t that goddess-forsaken nightdress that had nearly made me devour her.

Not that this was any better—if anything, the natural effortlessness was the appeal. She wasn’t even trying to impress anyone, yet she had me by the balls.

I swallowed the thickness in my throat, making it a point not to stare at her curves.

By the time I forced my gaze back up to hers, a crinkle of a scowl was already forming, though her eyes remained blank, giving nothing away.

"Hi," I forced the word past my hardened lips. The scratchy sensation in my throat was almost too much to bear, but I resisted the urge to clear it.

The last thing I needed was to give Maeve an inkling of how much her presence—albeit annoying—still affected me.

It was bad enough that she had witnessed my wolf’s proud confession and had gone feral in front of her.

Bad enough that she had wiped the airport’s tarmac with my ego the other day. Bad enough that she was still adamant about rejecting me.

I had no intention of being a simpering idiot before her for a while.

"Hi," she answered simply, still giving me that blank look.

All I had to do was ask her permission to take Asha out tomorrow. That was all there was to this conversation.

Contrary to the shot of warmth in my chest—the surfacing of my wolf—I didn’t come here to indulge or satiate the itch that had been eating away at my mind for days.

The thoughts that plagued me to see her. To see if she hated me even more. To see if she considered me a monster—a worse one than before. To see if she’d let me anywhere near Asha.

Do I bring up the other night? Act like it never happened? How much of the rumor had she heard? Fucking hell.

"Ivan, do you want something? Or did you come all this way to gawk and keep us uncomfortable?" Maeve’s tone was cold, biting.

I hated the scratchy laugh that left my lips, even as my hand rubbed the back of my head. My eyes shifted to Asha for a moment, maybe to hide the nervousness from Maeve.

Deep breath, Ivan.

Act normal.

"Easy there, sunshine," I said, letting a half-smile tug at my mouth. "I plan to go fishing tomorrow. I was hoping Asha could come with me."

"Fishing," she repeated, eyes narrowing slightly, as if it was a strange concept to grasp.

"For rare, exotic fishes," I was quick to add. "They only come around this time of the year, and they’ve been said to be magical. I think Asha would be delighted to see them."

Her narrowed eyes didn’t soften in the slightest.

"But that is if you approve, of course." I winced, hating just how almost desperate I sounded.

"The waters are dangerous."

"I know, I know—but Asha would be safe, with me."

Her brow arched then, a soft scoff leaving her lips. "With you?"

The words were sharp for some reason, almost accusatory, and I frowned slightly at her—was this about the rabid wolf thing? Did she think Asha would be in danger around me?

My heart twisted.

"I—yes. There would be safety measures put in place—guards stationed and emergency procedures set up—and... I’d be on my best behavior as well."

Her steel gaze didn’t flicker for a second. All she did was stare at me with those cutting eyes, as if dissecting my form and intentions for any sign of trouble.

It was rather uncomfortable, and it took a lot to keep my gaze fixed on hers without breaking into a cold sweat.

As a way to distract my mind, I lowered my gaze to Asha. He was glancing between Maeve and me, looking genuinely confused.

His clever eyes seemed to be dissecting the situation.

I wondered what he was thinking—what he thought of the strained tension between us.

"And where exactly do you plan to carry out this fishing expedition?" Maeve finally asked, pulling me out of my reverie.

"Down by the northern lake... you know the one." My words were soft then, knowing she’d instinctively remember the very place I was talking about.

We had gone there a few times, mostly for formalities, and she’d always cook and bake so many goodies to make the trip exciting.

But I preferred my solitude on such trips, and we mostly spent the time staring bleakly at the waters.

Again, I returned my gaze to Asha’s. My next words were spoken strictly for his benefit.

"I recently finished constructing a cabin next to the lake. It’s got all sorts of supplies and fancy gadgets—perfect for fishing."

"Really? That’s so cool!" Asha’s eyes glinted with intrigue. When he looked at Maeve, his gaze turned pleading. "Can I go fishing with Ivan? Please, Mummy?"

He pressed his palms together, pouting his lips.

"Asha, baby, but—"

"Please, Mummy! I trust Ivan! He won’t let me eat the worms or fall into the water! Pretty pretty pleaseeeee." He all but went on his knees, and I tried to suppress my grin at the accusing glare Maeve sent my way, right before she sighed in defeat.

"Fine, fine—I’ve heard you. You can go."

"Yes!" Asha jumped into the air and pumped his fist, and my grin was the brightest thing that had touched my face in days.

She couldn’t ever say no to him—but who could?

Maeve chuckled slightly, then ruffled her little boy’s hair.

"Go get ready for bed now, baby. You have to be up early tomorrow."

"Okay, Mummy!" He raced back into the room, but over his shoulder, he yelled, "You’re the best, Ivan!"

My grin only stretched further, also extending to a rush of warmth in my chest—like the feel of a bandage soothing away an ache I couldn’t name.

However, the amusement vanished when Maeve suddenly stepped into my line of sight. The smile had also dropped from her lips.

"What time tomorrow?" she asked.

"6 a.m. on the dot."

"Have him back here by 12 p.m.," she instructed.

"Fine," I said with an impressive little smirk. "Anything else?"

"No jumping into the lake. Or last-minute flights out of the pack."

"You’re being dramatic," I chuckled, but the sharpness of her gaze reduced that into a cough. "But I hear you—there will be no foolery. Just good ol’ father-and-son fishing."

"You’re not his father." Her words were an arrow to the chest, almost killing the warmth Asha had left me with.

"Well, ouch." I masked my pain with a soft laugh. "I deserve that. But I’m going to earn my place, I promise."

Her mouth opened immediately, like she had an arsenal of words to counter that single point, but she swallowed them with a bite of her lips, throwing her slightly peeved gaze away.

I thought that was the end of it—maybe the awkward moment of bidding goodnight—until she swung those fiery hazel eyes back at me.

"Are you not going to explain what happened the other night?"

Oh, fuck.

"Um—what night?" Good call, Ivan—you fucking idiot.

"The night in the forest where you attacked Revierre and went on a temper tantrum and basically ruined the rejection." Her words grew sharper with each syllable.

My brows tightened. Was she more mad that the rejection failed—again—or that I’d attacked the priest?

My lips parted to defend myself, but I scoured the depths of my mind for a fitting explanation—maybe an excuse for the fact that I’d basically lost control to my wolf—but all it narrowed down to was admitting this all began with her.

Admitting that in five years, I’d never gotten over her. That I’d lost my mind, the edges of my wolf’s sanity fraying from her absence. It was admitting she held that much power over me.

My jaw clenched.

"I don’t want to talk about it." The coldness in my tone left no room for argument.

Maeve let out a bitter chuckle. "Oh, so you’d just rather have me listen to nonsensical rumors and trust my son in your care not knowing if you’d, at some point, throw him against a tree and gut him."

"I would never hurt Asha," I snapped, eyes flashing. "I would never."

She glared in the silence, then her words came right before she banged the door in my face.

"I don’t care what is going on with you, Ivan, but this rejection is happening—whether your wolf agrees to it or not. I’ll find a way."