Edgar almost jumped out of his skin with the need to comfort her, to ease her pain, to help her, but the girl looked a half step away from losing control completely. So he stayed back, even though the lion fought him every second, and gave her space. And then thanked every deity he'd ever heard of when she tentatively asked him to stay in the room with her. He wouldn't have slept a wink if he'd been in the living room of the suite, and even though the couch in the bedroom was hard enough to pass for concrete, he felt a thousand times more comfortable just being able to hear her breathe.
His heart thawed a little, despite a sense of guilt that he betrayed Anna somehow, by caring about this girl. He couldn't understand how this girl affected him so much, after so many years and so many other women failed to even distract him. He'd never cared about anyone that much after Anna died, and the worry drove him crazy. Threatened to drive the lion over the edge completely.
She couldn't be his mate. Couldn't be. And she didn't feel like his mate the same way that Anna had. Edgar moved on the couch, trying to find a more comfortable position, and punched the pillow under his arm. The girl's breathing hitched, and he froze, waiting to see if he'd disturbed her. She murmured and moved uneasily, but didn't wake, and Edgar started breathing again. She definitely didn't feel like Anna had, like he'd found the missing part of his soul. He still felt as if this girl belonged with him, as if they were linked or connected or kindred, but he couldn't understand why. He'd never heard of people who'd lost their mates finding another, but he hadn't known very many who survived their mates for a decade. Maybe the universe wanted to make it up to him.
He closed his eyes against the memories but Anna's face stayed in his thoughts. She would have liked Ivy, he knew.
Edgar dozed, not letting himself fall too deeply asleep in case Ivy needed something. He'd texted his brothers not to disturb him until it was time to leave for the mansion. Apparently Carter and the love-struck Owen convinced most of the women to stay at the Chase mansion for a few days, until they could get their bearings and all the trials were sorted out, so a convoy of vehicles would truck back to the city as soon as the sun rose. He wanted Ivy to be in that convoy, in his truck, right next to him.
He didn't know what time it was when she started having nightmares, but he woke as her breath hitched and a pained noise escaped. Rather than rolling or adjusting her position to alleviate the pain from her back, she just flinched, her feet moving under the sheets, and his heart sank. Definitely nightmares. Edgar eased upright, torn. He wanted to wake her, but there was no telling how she would feel about a strange man standing over her bed in the dark. That might not help much.
Edgar cleared his throat and said softly, "Ivy, wake up."
Nothing. Her expression tightened, a frown deepening across her forehead, and her lips parted. A cry escaped, desperate and afraid, and his heart broke a little. Cracked around the edges. Edgar took a deep breath and moved around the bed to stand nearer, pitching his voice a little louder. "Wake up, Ivy. It's just a dream."
Her breath came faster, shallower. Her feet moved more, jerky and uncontrolled.
He held his breath and touched her arm. "Ivy —"
She woke with a start and a cry, lashing out, and Edgar backed away. "I'm sorry. You were dreaming. Do you want a light?"
"No," she croaked after a long moment, and from the hiccup in her breathing, he thought she cried. She curled up around the pillow and hid her face, hands clenched near her head. "Is it time to go?"
"Not yet." Edgar returned to the couch and sat, but couldn't quite make himself lay back. She looked miserable, even if the wounds in her back should have healed. "Want to talk about it?"
He caught the movement as she shook her head. He understood. There wasn't enough money in the world to get him to talk about his nightmares. Edgar started to put his feet up but froze as her soft voice, small and uneasy, reached him through the darkness. "I don't think I can sleep more. Do you mind — could we talk for a while?"
"Of course." He sat up, hesitating, then shoved to his feet and took the two steps to the bed. He sat down on the edge, far from her, and eased back to lay on the mattress, staring up at the ceiling. And he counted it a victory that she didn't immediately flee, even though she tensed. He chose not to notice, trying to count the cracks in the ceiling through the darkness. "What do you want to talk about?"
She sounded half-asleep still, particularly as the silence stretched and her breathing slowed. "I was trying to find someone when the pack captured me. I think he's in the city. Can you help me find him?"
Looking for someone. Edgar's heart sank. Looking for a mate, maybe? A replacement? Someone she followed from wherever she left? It figured that the first woman who made his lion feel alive already had someone. He frowned at the darkness. He needed to man the fuck up already. He barely knew this girl, she owed him nothing, and it was her choice where she went and who she looked for. "Of course. I know a couple of private investigators. One of them will certainly be able to find whoever you're looking for."
"It won't be easy," she said with a sigh, relaxing more. She even rolled a little closer to his side. "He won't want to be found."
"Really?" Edgar made a mental note to contact Smith, the investigator who'd helped Atticus's mate find her long-lost family. "Why would he want to hide from you?"
"Because I want to kill him." She said it so easily he thought for a moment he'd misunderstood, between the soft warmth of her body next to his arm and the sleepy quality of her sighed words. The lion purred, pleased with her strength and intoxicated by her scent. Ivy nuzzled against his shoulder, eyes closed, and murmured something he didn't quite catch. Then she smiled. "He's the last one. When he's gone, I can finally move on."
So many questions filled his brain that Edgar didn't know where to start. Why she wanted to kill him, how many came before this dude, what she planned to do when she moved on... He shook his head in the darkness and just closed his eyes. "I'll help you, if you need it, Ivy."
"Thanks." Ivy yawned and snuggled closer, hugging his arm to her chest. "That's not my name, you know."
"Oh?" Edgar wanted to turn toward her, to hold her tightly to his chest and cover her with his scent, but didn't dare move. It sounded like she was in that half-awake, half-dreaming place where nothing hurt and everything would be okay. "Then what's your name?"
"Isobel Victoria," she murmured, and a hint of pain crossed her face. "They're my initials. IV. They shortened it to Ivy."
"They? Who's they?" Edgar leaned close enough to kiss her forehead, inhaling from her hair. God help him, he might be lost. He might be in a great deal of trouble with this one. His lion, and his heart, didn't know how to deal with love anymore. He was too out of practice.
"The bad guys. The doctors." She looked pained again, then shook her head as if to banish the thought. "He's the last one. Once he's gone, I can move on."
"Good." Edgar pulled the comforter up and over them both, wanting her to be snug and warm, and adjusted the pillows around them. "He'll be gone soon."
She smiled as her breathing deepened and he knew she slept. Edgar didn't, staring up at the ceiling, and hoped with every ounce of his being that she wasn't talking about the same bad guys who'd hurt Atticus's mate Sophia. Just the possibility that she'd been through something similar to Sophia, held against her will and experimented on, drove his lion into a frenzy. And it sounded like Ivy remembered it all. He closed his eyes and counted her breaths in the near silence. If there was only one bad guy left, she would have the entire Chase pride behind her to finish the bastard off.