39. Ivy

39

IVY

It was not my first time running into a Bennett alpha in the wine aisle of Mariposa Market. But I was certainly surprised by the timing of this encounter. And of the alpha.

Chester Bennett was a smaller version of Logan (not hard to be) with extra laugh lines and peppery gray hair.

“Do you have a favorite?” he asked me with a warm familiarity, nodding at the rows of bottles.

“Um.” I was off kilter. I pointed to the only wine in front of me I’d tried before. “That one.”

He whistled. “Good choice. This was the one you sent with Logan when he met Glenna for the first time, wasn’t it?”

So it was. That felt like a lifetime ago. I nodded dumbly and he plucked it off the shelf.

“Am I not meant to be officially meeting you in,” I blurted, glancing at my watch, “fifteen minutes?”

He smiled at me like he had all the time in the world. Aged, weathered hands turned the wine over so he could examine the label. “You are,” he finally said.

Mom and Dad hosted our pack regularly at dinners now. I’d met James’ mom and Rome’s family pack over video call already.

James’ mom called me beautiful about seventeen times. Right at the end, she asked if Rome still had his tattoos. I thought she was kidding but James told me later she was not. “She calls me her almost perfect son-in-law,” Rome said matter-of-factly.

Rome’s family took a lot longer, as every single extended member insisted on getting their turn. His grandparents on his dad’s side were the most memorable, extremely sweet while also insisting that they could tell Rome wasn’t eating enough. There was going to be some sort of care package coming our way despite the many many times we insisted there was no need.

Logan’s dad was the last one for me to ‘meet’, even though it was purely a formality. I’d known him for years as a fellow resident of Starlight Grove.

Chester gave me a sidelong smile. “I asked Logan to come by early to fix something in the attic and then snuck out.”

No wonder Logan had apologized for not being able to head over together.

“You wanted to see me…before?” I deduced.

An ancient, lived-in kind of grief settled into his features.

“I never thought this day would come, Ivy. Meeting his omega,” Chester clarified. “I worry so much about him. Worried that I ruined him with my own grief. It took me years to…well, you know.”

“Yes,” I said softly.

This version of Chester was very different from the Chester I remembered growing up. All of Starlight Grove knew how much he struggled after losing his omega, trying to raise his son through his tumultuous teenage years. Piecing together a version of his life he never expected to have, all while trying not to fall apart.

It had left its indelible mark on Logan. My quiet, closed-off alpha who had not realized how much he needed us all.

Chester faced me. His eyes were so similar to his son’s. “Is he a good alpha to you?” he asked thickly.

“The best,” I promised. “He’s loved with us.”

“Good.” He sniffed and his eyes shimmered. “That’s all I want for him.”

It was an odd place for such an emotional declaration. We sat in the moment, the silence alive and mossy between us.

“Do you think he might be your scent match?” Chester finally asked.

Scent match.

It was an outdated term. To describe a magical feeling of compatibility, the secret locked away in how you responded to another’s scent. I understood why people wanted to believe in it.

“He could be,” I said, not wanting to shatter an old man’s hope. “It doesn’t matter either way. He’s the one I want. They all are.”

Chester nodded, satisfied with my answer. His back straightened, eyes dancing with humor once again. “Well, I better get back. Look forward to meeting you in fifteen minutes.” He mimed zipping his lips and left.

I bought my wine and stepped outside the market. We had had a decent snowfall that day and it settled plush and powdery over the whole town. Despite the occasional car driving by and the people about, there was a deep blanket of quiet, the snow swallowing up all sound.

I stared up at the clear, twilight sky. Thinking about scent matches.

It was a lovely, farfetched idea. That I was made for them and they for me.

The stuff of fairytales, surely.

But I thought of Rome spending his whole life searching for a home until he found one with us. James’ overly large heart needing an entire pack to care for. Logan and I, orbiting like distant satellites almost our whole lives, colliding like a supernova only when we were both ready.

There wasn’t a single aspect of my life that wasn’t embraced wholeheartedly, not a part of me they didn’t love.

Fated. Written in the stars.

Could it be?

I was beginning to think there was more truth to it than I’d ever thought possible.