Chapter 2 THE KINSHIP OF WOLVES

The morning sun flooded the breakfast room, turning the crystal chandeliers into a thousand tiny prisms. Ivy walked in behind Masha, her head held high. She wasn't trembling today. She had spent the morning reminding herself that she was a guest of the family, and Nikolai Volkov-regardless of how he looked in the dark-was just a man.

Masha didn't look scared either. In fact, she looked annoyed. She marched right up to the head of the table where Nikolai sat, dressed in a sharp black suit, looking every bit the lethal King of the Underworld.

"Move over, Nikolai," Masha said with a playful shove to his shoulder. "You're taking up the whole table with your 'important' papers."

Ivy's breath hitched, expecting a roar of anger. Instead, Nikolai let out a low, dry chuckle. He didn't look up from his tablet, but he shifted his chair over, making room for his cousin.

"Careful, Masha," Nikolai rasped, his voice holding a warmth Ivy hadn't heard before. "One of these days I'll actually start acting like the monster people say I am."

"Oh, please. You're just a big, grumpy dog to me," Masha teased, grabbing a croissant and tossing one toward Ivy.

Nikolai finally looked up. His slate-gray eyes bypassed Masha and landed squarely on Ivy. He didn't look at her with the same warmth he gave his cousin; his gaze was heavy, possessive, and intensely masculine. He watched her catch the croissant, his eyes tracing the movement of her hands.

"Morning, Ivory," he said. The nickname was a low vibration that made the hair on her arms stand up.

"Good morning, Mr. Volkov," Ivy replied, sitting down with a calm grace that seemed to amuse him.

"Nikolai," Elena Volkov interrupted, her voice sharp as she entered the room. "Sasha is arriving at two. We have the florist coming at three. This engagement is the talk of Moscow, and I won't have you ruining it with your 'distractions.'"

Masha let out a loud, theatrical groan. "Sasha? Really, Nikolai? She's as exciting as a wet napkin. I saw her at the opera last week and she spent the whole time checking if her pearls were straight."

Nikolai smirked, reaching out to ruffle Masha's hair-a gesture so tender it made Ivy's heart do a strange flip. "Our mother thinks I need a statue by my side, Masha. Not a woman."

"Well, don't blame me when your house turns into a museum of boredom," Masha laughed, turning to Ivy. "Come on, Ivy. Let's go to the library before Nikolai's 'Ice Queen' arrives and freezes the air out of the room."

Hours later, the library was quiet. Ivy was focused on her legal research, but the stuffy air of the room made her restless.

"I'm going to find that historical archive in the east wing," Ivy told Masha, who was buried in a stack of medical journals. "I'll be right back."

Ivy walked out of the library and headed down the long, marble-floored gallery that overlooked the grand foyer. She was deep in thought, her mind a whirlwind of case laws and statutes. She moved with a natural, unpretentious confidence, her simple sundress swaying around her knees.

She didn't realize that downstairs, the front doors had just swung open.

Sasha Romanov stepped in, looking like a diamond-cold, hard, and perfectly cut. She wore a white silk dress and a fur stole, her blonde hair coiffed into a perfect bun.

"Nikolai, darling," Sasha said, reaching out to take Nikolai's hand as he met her in the foyer. "It feels like forever since we've discussed the details."

Nikolai didn't take her hand. He stood with his hands in his pockets, his posture stiff and indifferent. "It's been two days, Sasha. The details haven't changed."

Sasha opened her mouth to argue, but she stopped. She saw Nikolai's eyes shift. He wasn't looking at her. He was looking up.

High above them on the gallery, Ivy was walking past. She didn't look down. She didn't even know they were there. She was tucked into her own world, a vision of effortless beauty in the afternoon light.

Nikolai's expression transformed. The boredom vanished, replaced by a raw, naked hunger. His eyes followed Ivy's every step, his head turning slowly as she moved along the balcony. He looked like a man who had just found something he was willing to go to war for.

Sasha's stomach dropped. She saw the way his pupils dilated. She saw the way his jaw tightened. She had never, in all the years she had known him, seen him look at a woman with that much focus.

"Nikolai?" Sasha hissed, her voice trembling with a sudden, sharp jealousy. "Who is that girl? Why is she in your house?"

Nikolai didn't even blink. He continued to watch the spot where Ivy had just been, even after she had disappeared into the next room.

"She's a guest of Masha's," Nikolai said, his voice cold and final.

"She looks like a peasant," Sasha snapped, her eyes flashing with hate. "She's a distraction you don't need."

Nikolai finally looked at Sasha, and his eyes were like ice. "She's more of a woman than you'll ever be, Sasha. Now, go find my mother. I have work to do."

He turned and walked toward the stairs, leaving Sasha standing in the foyer, her fingernails digging into her palms. She looked up at the empty gallery, a silent vow of war forming in her mind.

Ivy St. Claire had no idea she had just become the target of the most dangerous woman in Moscow-or the obsession of its King.