Chapter 471: Blood Ties
Damon sat in the darkness of his office, the only light coming from the pale glow of his computer monitor and the distant cityscape filtering through the half-closed blinds.
It was late. Later than he had meant to stay.
The cleanup from the twin rifts was still ongoing, the paperwork was multiplying faster than he could sign it, and somewhere in the back of his mind, he was still processing the footage of Arzhen Vasiliev’s rampage in the middle of the street. Not to mention the move that billionaire bastard just made—
BUZZ—
His phone buzzed.
{Ivy: Why do you want my DNA? Spit it out.}
Damon stared at the screen. His thumb hovered over the message, then he closed his eyes and grimaced.
He got found out.
He tapped the call button and brought the phone to his ear. It rang once. Twice. Then nothing. The call disconnected.
He pulled the phone away, frowned at the screen, and tapped again. This time, as he raised it to his ear—
BAM!
His office door swung open with enough force to send the doorstop bouncing against the wall.
"Did you find someone mine, or something?"
"For fu—Ivy—" Damon flinched so hard his phone clattered to the floor, skittering under his desk into the darkness.
His wife stood in the doorway, backlit by the fluorescent glow of the hallway. Blonde hair pulled into a loose ponytail, blue eyes sharp and blazing.
She was still wearing her coat, which meant she had come straight from work the moment she’d seen whatever he did behind her back.
She crossed the office in three swift strides, her coat swirling behind her, and before Damon could retrieve his phone or his dignity, she had settled herself onto his lap.
"I never cheated on you," she said, her eyes level with his. "I have no kids outside of our marriage."
"What about Magnus Karas?" Damon asked, his voice dry.
"Are you going to keep mentioning my ex?"
Damon smiled. Gentle despite the sarcasm, warm despite the accusation. The smile reached his eyes and softened the hard lines of his face.
Ivy saw it and paused, her glare flickered, just for a moment. She immediately registered that this wasn’t about what she thought it was. He was messing with her.
The Magnus mention had been a decoy, a teasing barb they threw at each other because they both knew it didn’t land anymore.
He grabbed her waist. His palms settled against the curve of her hips. He sighed, long and slow. "I will tell you when the result comes out."
"Tell me now." Ivy didn’t budge. "Who are you testing my DNA against?"
"The test is gonna be done in another thirty minutes." His thumbs traced absent circles against her hipbones. "We have a fast labora—"
"Tell me first."
"Wait thirty minutes." His voice dropped, teasing now, his fingers moving to loosen his tie with exaggerated slowness. "I can help you wait."
Ivy’s eyes narrowed. The blue of them caught the monitor light and glinted. "So it’s a surprise? A good one?"
"I’ll just make you feel good in case it’s nothing, alright?" He tilted his head, his smile edging toward something more playful.
"Apology not accepted," Ivy said.
Damon slowly stood up, lifting Ivy with him. His hands slid from her waist to her hips, and he carried her weight as though she weighed nothing at all, setting her down on the edge of his desk with a gentleness that belied the chaos of the day.
He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her cheek.
"Be good," he murmured against her skin.
Then he dropped to his knees and crawled halfway under his desk to retrieve his fallen phone.
From her perch on the desktop, Ivy watched her husband fumble in the darkness, his broad shoulders wedged between the chair and the filing cabinet, his fingers patting blindly across the carpet.
He was, at this angle, entirely undignified. A man who commanded operations centers and coordinated with hunters and stared down S-rank calamities, currently on all fours under her.
Her heel came down on his back. Not hard. Just enough pressure to make her point.
"Ivy." Damon’s voice was muffled from under the desk. He looked up, or as up as he could manage from his position, and grasped her ankle. His thumb pressed against the bone, firm and warm.
"What? I’m still mad."
He emerged from under the desk, still kneeling, phone finally in hand. His tie hung loose around his collar, and his hair was disheveled. His other hand remained wrapped around her ankle.
"It’s for your good." His voice was steady now, the teasing edge giving way to something more serious. "Also, if I’m right, it might be a great surprise for you and Isla, alright?"
Ivy’s expression shifted. The sharpness in her eyes dulled, replaced by something fragile. "It can’t be..."
"You caught up." Damon shrugged, still kneeling and holding her ankle. "Or you just don’t want to hope? So you are searching for other reasons?"
"You think you can find my lost sibling when I already searched for my whole life and can’t find them?" Her voice wavered on the word sibling, cracking just slightly, betraying decades of disappointment she had long stopped acknowledging.
"I knew it. This will be your reaction, huh?" Damon sighed.
He reached down and pulled her heel loose. The shoe dropped to the carpet with a soft thump. Then he guided her bare foot to rest flat against his chest, pressing her sole over his heart. Through the fabric of his shirt, she could feel it beating steadily.
"It’s important to me," he said, "...that you trust me."
Ivy looked at him. Her husband, kneeling on his office floor with her foot over his heart like a knight swearing fealty.
"I trust you," she said. "But this is something that I trust you not to screw up."
Damon smiled. He rose to his feet slowly, his hand never leaving her ankle, and placed his phone on the desk beside her hip.
Then he lowered himself into his chair, scooting forward until his knees bracketed the edge of the desk, and guided her feet down to rest between his legs. Her bare toes pressed against the fabric of his trousers, and he covered them with one warm palm.
"Twenty-five minutes," he said.
Ivy narrowed her eyes. Beneath her bare sole, she could feel him, the shape of him against the fabric of his trousers, a familiar heat that made her breath catch despite herself.
She didn’t pull away nor press closer.
"I can please you in less than ten," he said, reaching for the glass of water on his desk. He brought it to his lips and drank, long and slow, his throat working as he swallowed.
Ivy watched his neck. The bob of his Adam’s apple. The way the office light caught the faint sheen of water on his lower lip. She had been married to this man for years, and he still found ways to distract her.
"Forget it." She looked away, her cheeks warming despite her best efforts. "Just tell me about... other things..."
"What?" Damon set the glass down. "Arzhen Vasiliev? I’m waiting for Lesser Goddess’ call. My guess is a hostage situation."
"Mm." Ivy nodded, grateful for the shift in topic. "Did you know I pulled some strings and finalized her divorce decree quicker?"
"I was going to do it, but your move worked out better, President." The title rolled off his tongue. "About our strategy in court..."
Ivy frowned. She tried to pull her foot off him, but his hands clamped down, holding her in place. "You already know how to win. I’m not lending anymore help."
"I wasn’t asking."
"Let me off." She glared.
"No way." He glared right back, and beneath her sole, the pressure increased. Hot and hardening. "I need to get back at you for those years of your temptation."
"Damon!"
The phone buzzed.
Ivy moved first. Her hand shot out and snatched the phone from the desk before Damon could react. She swiped open the email from the lab, her blue eyes scanning the report—
99.9% sibling relation—
Her fingers went slack. The phone slipped from her grasp, tumbling toward the floor. Damon caught it before it landed on the floor again and glanced at the screen.
His eyes widened.
A beat of silence. Two beats.
Then a grin spread across his face.
"...who are you testing my DNA against?" Ivy asked, pale.
Damon looked up at her. His eyes were bright. He rose to his feet, his suit jacket already sliding from his shoulders and hitting the floor in a heap.
"Ivy," he said, his voice thick with something between laughter and awe. "I’m ready for a child."
He pushed her back onto the desk, his body following hers, his mouth crashing against her lips with a ferocity that was equal parts passion and pure, giddy joy.
"We’re making a goddess her first niece and nephew."
Ivy lay frozen beneath him, her mind still snagged on that single, impossible word.
Goddess—Her sibling. Her lost sibling, the one she had searched for her entire life, the one she had given up on finding years ago—
"DID YOU TEST MY DNA AGAINST CECILIA ARACELI?!"
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