24. Chapter 23 #2
He tutted his tongue. “You don’t hate me, Ivy.
You said so yourself.” He watched her mouth open as she tried to argue, and he called his magic to reach out to hers to throw her off.
He expected it to brush lightly against hers, like it had every other time their magic interacted.
But it curled around hers, as if his magic was trying to pull her in as close as humanly possible.
Her chest pressed against his, and heat coursed through him as she gasped.
“Maybe so,” she whispered, her voice strained as her stare bore into him.
Her autumn gaze pierced through him, and he flicked his attention to her lips just to escape it.
Not the greatest idea, considering they were less than six inches apart and every logical thought was leaving his mind as blood rushed south.
If she were to move to the tips of her toes to kiss him, he wouldn’t have the strength to stop her.
“This isn’t you.”
He turned her attention back to her eyes.
“I can see that you’re hurting.” She took a deep breath, and her hand slid to cover his. “You can trust me.”
Silence stretched between them. The sharp ache returned, shooting through his skull.
He wished he could tell her. But to do so would risk everything.
His father’s plan. His freedom. Her life.
His brother’s words played in his head. If his father was willing to use Silas against him, all because they cared for each other, there would be no hesitation in using Ivy to the same end.
And, in his own stupidity of staying close to her to sway her from this mission, he’d begun to care about her.
He pushed himself away, taking his magic with him. As he moved, her knees buckled, and she gripped the counter to keep herself steady. Her brows knit together in confusion, her chest rising and falling quickly with each breath. Without saying anything, he turned around and left.
He couldn’t bear sitting in history class. Not when he couldn’t pretend everything was okay. It wasn’t. Not even a little. He wasn’t sure what the statue had said to the others, but its words burrowed deep inside him and brought a sinking truth to the surface.
Ezra wouldn’t be leaving this school with his freedom. He might not even leave with his life.
“Do you think your father will let you go? You carry evidence of his lies on your skin, hold memories of his misdeeds in your head. For that alone, he will never let you leave. Freedom only lies in death.”
It was as if the statue had plucked the thought from the deepest caverns of his mind.
He knew accepting his father’s deal came with the risk that he was being lied to.
Declan said the power hidden somewhere at the school would be enough for their father.
But he knew how valuable his magic was to his family.
Ezra only wished he wasn’t na?ve enough to have believed it.
“His desire for greater power will come to fruition. You know that. But even he cannot anticipate what will be released. Nor will he foresee the power broken, forged together to wield fate for their own.”
“What do you mean, the power broken?” he had asked.
“You will see,” the statue said before returning to marble.
He sat on the bench by the lake, watching the ducks swim in the water as the temperature slowly warmed to an early fall day.
The ripples from the birds fractured the sun’s glistening reflection.
He wasn’t sure how long he’d been sitting here for.
But it was enough for his fingers to turn bright pink.
He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket.
A soft, petal-like sensation brushed against his magic, and he looked over to see Ivy approaching him.
She was bundled in her evergreen peacoat and cream-colored scarf, her bright red hair a contrast against the rich green.
Her cheeks and nose were bright pink from the chill in the air, and her full lips stretched into a small smile.
In her hand was the coffee and breakfast he’d left behind.
“There you are.” She sat on the bench next to him.
“How’d you find me?”
“I could sense your magic,” she said, handing him the coffee. “You didn’t show for class.”
When he took the cup from her, the coffee inside was still hot. She must’ve reheated it with a spell on her way. “Skipping history for me?”
“Professor Murray will survive without my presence for one day,” she joked. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” he said, attempting to put on his best grin. Judging by her down-turned brows and pout, he wasn’t convincing enough. He stared back out at the water. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Wasn’t I supposed to be the one who needed to work on my lying?” she asked, leaning her shoulder against the back of the wooden seat. When he didn’t say anything, she sighed. “If I said anything back there tha—”
“No,” he interrupted, turning back to her again and shaking his head. “It was nothing you did or said. I was being an asshole. I’m sorry for acting like that and…getting in your face. It was…”
“Surprising,” she filled in for him. Not the word he thought she would use. Inappropriate. Rude. That was how he expected her to describe their interaction back there. “Why’d you leave?”
“Because you were right,” he said, the words falling out before he could think better of it.
“About what?”
He was jealous. Not of Liam. That’d be stupid.
He wasn’t a jealous person in the macho, caveman bullshit way.
It clicked in his mind as he walked over here.
She had people she could tell all this to.
And not only were they understanding, but they were also helping her.
Meanwhile, the only people who knew his secrets were watching his every move and waiting for him to mess up again.
Ezra searched around the lake for any blocks of shadows Silas could hide in. He couldn’t spot any, but he should assume either he or any one of his people was there.
“When you said I was in pain,” he said. “I have a terrible headach—”
“God, stop lying, Ezra,” she groaned, brushing her hand through her hair quickly. “I’m sitting here because I want you to be able to talk to me. You’ve been off ever since the exam. Is it something the statue said?”
“It was nothing I didn’t already know.” He took a sip of his coffee. “All it did was remind me I don’t have control over my own life.”
“If you don’t, then who does?”
“My father,” he sighed. “I come from a long line of terrible people, all of whom wanted power. My father, brother, and all the men before us. They stopped at nothing to get more of it. But my father…,” he drifted off for a moment, his mind threatening to pull him under the spell of the past, to bring him back to that basement.
He leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees as he squeezed his eyes shut to block the memory out.
“He hurts people, regardless of whether they’re a friend or an enemy.
Even if they’re family,” he forced out. “He won’t stop until he gets what he wants from you.
And if he has no more use for you?” His vision blurred as he stared out across the lake.
“He’ll do worse things. My own mother—the only good in this family—couldn’t escape.
If she couldn’t make it, I don’t know how I ever thought I could. ”
He paused, exhaling shakily. “No matter what I do, it won’t be enough to get what I need. And it’ll never be enough to get him what he wants. Whatever that is, anyway.”
He chewed on his bottom lip as the words tumbled out of his mouth finally caught up with his brain.
His father’s abuse had always remained his secret, mostly so he wouldn’t have to face the reality.
And how was that working out for him so far?
Terribly, that’s how. The threat of the basement was always at the back of his mind.
A wave of warmth swept over him as petals cascaded over his body. He snapped his gaze over at Ivy; her face was flushed, and her magic pulled back.
“I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I didn’t m—”
“Don’t apologize,” he said breathlessly, smiling softly as he sat back against the bench. He cleared his throat, forcing himself to look away before he could reach for her. “I did the same thing earlier. Also by mistake. I didn’t realize our magic could do that.”
Her fingers played with the hem of her jacket. “We should probably figure out more about how this works exactly.”
He grinned, turning back to her, not missing how her attention flicked to the dimples in his cheeks. He’s caught her a few times now. “You just want to spend more time with me.”
She rolled her eyes, but instead of a scowl or pursed lips, a soft smile spread across her face. “Or maybe I want to make sure our magic isn’t some mysterious time bomb that will explode with a wrong spell,” she laughed, propping her arm on the bench and leaning her head against her palm.
“That would put a damper on our growing relationship.”