Treeland Pack Tales 3: A Trace of Ivy by Evanne Lorraine Read Free Book Online Page B

of
approval. “Did you happen to catch the license plate?”
    “No. The one time I saw the vehicle, everything happened so
fast.”
    Daniel dipped his chin in acknowledgment. “The team found
Lauren Thomas’s body. I’m very sorry.”
    “A teenager, slight frame, brown hair?” Ivy forced the question
past the helpless sorrow tightening her throat and leaned closer to Scarlet’s
comfort.
    “Yeah, your description matches the picture we have of the
missing girl.”
    Ivy scrubbed away tears. “We never knew her name.”
    “There are other captives?”
    “Yes, Kat and Tess, my friends.” Her voice broke. More tears
blurred her vision.
    “That’s enough updating.” Scarlet tugged her down the hall.
    Ivy stumbled after her, barely able to stay upright. The
news of Lauren’s death had lifted the floodgate on her toxic memories. Denial
had kept the monsters in her head at bay. Now her stomach knotted into a ball
of misery.
    Scarlet put an arm around Ivy’s waist and squeezed. “None of
what happened is your fault. You’re going to get through this in time, and you
will be fine.”
    “Thank you.” Silent tears of gratitude slid down Ivy’s
cheeks. How had Scarlet known exactly what she needed to hear? And why did she
accept Scarlet’s reassurance? Scarlet led her into a room plainly serving as a
modern gentleman’s office. The space was totally Chet. Indirect lighting
softened the edges of a wood-and-leather campaign desk. A thin silver laptop
rested on the ancient wooden surface without looking the least out of place.
The leather task chair faced a Turner landscape that belonged in a museum.
Another wall of glass framed the city lights.
    They sat on a sofa, suspiciously like the Louis XVI in her
grandparents’ Manhattan apartment. Memories of not being allowed to touch, let
alone sit on the antique furniture kept her rigid for a long moment. She
lightly caressed the soft forest-green velvet covering, noting creases and thin
spots. An artifact he actually used?
    “Chet had this room soundproofed. We’re safe from the guys’
werewolf ears in here.”
    A clean white hankie was pressed into her fingers. Ivy dried
her tears and then offered the crumpled linen to Scarlet.
    “Please keep it. I wish I’d thought to bring you some
clothes.”
    Ivy curled her legs under the roomy robe and plucked at the
terry. “I just threw this on at the last minute.”
    “I’ll bet you did.” Scarlet laughed as Ivy had hoped she
would.
    When the laughter died, Ivy couldn’t think of a thing to
say. Scarlet covered her hand with hers. “Werewolf bites don’t change humans
into wolves. You have to be born one. I don’t know how much Chet told you, but
you need to understand rogues are insane. There was nothing you could have done
to prevent being captured, and nothing that happened was your fault.”
    “Even after a long shower, I still feel so dirty,” Ivy
blurted.
    “Give it time. The memories will fade, and you’ll regain
your confidence.”
    “I didn’t fight hard enough.” Shame shrank her voice to a
whisper.
    “If you’d fought any harder, you would’ve died.” Scarlet
squeezed her hand. ”And you escaped. That’s just—wow. I can’t imagine the
courage that took.”
    Ivy nodded as if she agreed with Scarlet, but rogue filth
still coated her soul.
    “I was a teenager when a pack of rogues captured my mother
and me. Even now, I don’t remember much about the captivity. In one way I was
fortunate. My wolf endured the worst of the abuse, protecting me. After I was
rescued, I spent weeks in wolf form with Gracie, the packs’ traveling Omega.”
    “How were you able to get past the fear, the guilt, and the
shame?” Ivy realized her question revealed every miserable emotion she felt,
but something about Scarlet made it impossible not to trust her.
    “It took a long time.” Scarlet studied the city lights for a
long moment. “Even after the panic attacks were a rare occurrence, I wasn’t
able to