12. Ivy
Chapter 12
Ivy
SONGBIRD
A idan turns his back to the pond and falls backward over the ledge, pulling me along with him. A yelp escapes me, and we break the surface a moment later with a loud splash . Holding my breath, I instinctively twist in his arms to grab hold of his neck. Even though the dangerous traps and deadly blooms have either been deactivated or lulled back to sleep, I almost died here.
We emerge, and I sink my nails deep in his scalp to let him know how mad I am, but he doesn’t appear bothered in the least. If anything, he’s more than a little smug. Long, nimble fingers map the slope of my waist as Aidan holds me afloat.
“First lesson: move your arms and legs so you don’t drown,” he jokes.
“You’re relishing this, but I’m terrified.”
His lips brush my earlobe. “I would never let you drown, Songbird.”
Aidan holds the both of us out of the water like it’s easy, clearly a fantastic swimmer, and drags me under the canopy of gnarled roots at the back of the pond. Hidden from the world above, a small alcove offers a reprieve from the sun—and the keen eyes of our peers.
The roots of the willow tree twist and curl above our heads, forming a natural archway framed by trailing tendrils of neon-green lichen that thrives in the shadows. The air is cool and damp, filled with the earthy scents of wet moss and rich soil.
The water is clear enough for me to see the tubular network extend well below my feet before it vanishes into an inky abyss. Droplets plop down from the underbelly of the tree above and create a myriad of gentle, circular ripples across the water. It’s like we’re in an entirely different world.
Now that we’re out of view, Aidan’s joyful, carefree expression morphs into something heavy, tortured, and a little dark. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you. You have to be mine, Songbird.” He squeezes my sides, his ragged breaths rushing out.
Heartbeats pound in my chest, the immediate fear of drowning in Aidan’s arms suddenly taking on a whole new meaning.
A flush creeps up my neck. “I-I can’t be yours, Aidan.”
He presses his forehead to mine, his breath warm against my skin. "Why not?"
I hold on to the closest lifeline I can find. "Because I’m not an object," I manage to whisper, though my certainty wavers. "I’m a person, and I can’t be owned."
"Your logic is flawed," he murmurs, his voice low and intimate, "because you own me."
A shudder runs through me, and I press my hands to his shoulders. "You don’t even know me.”
“I’m following my instincts,” he says, and for a moment, I’m caught in the intensity of his stare, my heart pounding in a fanfare that both excites and terrifies me.
“It’s not your instincts you’re following. It’s your” —my gaze darts down between us— “Faehood.” I blush, a hot burst of shame searing my entrails. Why couldn’t I just say cock ?
A low, masculine chuckle rumbles up Aidan’s throat, the devilish prince clearly amused by the euphemism. “Talk more about my Faehood.”
“You’re a cocky bastard.”
“I’m a prince.”
“Is that how you justify your behavior?”
“I’m Aidan Summers. The heir forged in flames. The resplendent phoenix. I was never allowed to be anything else but bold, impulsive, and simply…ardent. People expect that of me. I need to burn brighter than everyone else. So I put on a smirk and forge ahead. It doesn’t mean I don’t have hopes and dreams of my own. Fears, even.”
I crack a smile. “And what does a resplendent bastard fear, exactly?”
“I’m terrified of your indifference. Did you think about me at all?”
He looks so apprehensive, like a negative answer might actually hurt him. Real.
A wet strand of hair has fallen over his brow, and I brush it behind his ear. “I did wonder if you’d moved on already.”
“Never.”
Warmth radiates from his body, a stark contrast to the cool water of the pond. It melts the promises I made myself to stay away from him, one icicle of doubt at a time. Every detail of his face becomes magnified, from the slight arch of his brow to the way his lips part ever so slightly, his breaths growing shorter and uneven as my gaze darts down to the drop of water hanging from his chin. I wish I could dip my head down and lick it off.
The urge to close the distance between us, to bridge that final gap, dizzies me. Just the thought of crossing that line sends a jolt of adrenaline through my body.
“Beth…” he murmurs.
I shiver at the sound of my name on his lips.
The space between us shrinks to barely a quarter inch of wavering restraint and crackling desire. Until neither of us can suffer the wait anymore. I lean in first—or maybe he pulls me to him, the movement unrehearsed, yet natural.
Kissing Aidan is an even worse ailment than I remembered. As soon as our lips touch, I’m drowning again. Not in water, but in flames. In him.
There’s nothing else like it.
At once, all the tension that had banded in my chest and knotted in my muscles dissipates, replaced by a blinding certainty. This is right. Good. This is where I’m meant to be.
We sink into the kiss, taking the time to discover each other, to the point where I can’t even tell where one kiss ends and another begins. I run a hand through his wet hair and wrap my legs around his waist.
The combination of the cold water, Aidan’s fire, and the steely ridge of his erection sends a flush to my cheeks and neck. My nipples are clearly visible under the stretchy fabric of my swimsuit, the pebbled peaks hard as stone.
The emptiness in my belly throbs, an ache there urging me to claim this man and let him use every inch of me in exchange for his soul. It’s a new and disarming feeling, like I could claw , bite , and scratch at him until he belonged to me forever.
It’s too much. Too violent, too carnal, and I recoil from it, spooked.
We both struggle to catch our breath, trapped in a storm that’s both relentless and fragile.
Aidan runs a hand from the side of my face to the hollow of my neck. “Woah. Take it easy there, Songbird. I’m a bit flustered, here.”
“Flustered…” I caress the back of his neck with spider fingers. “Or ardent ?” I say in jest.
“Fuck. I’m not above taking you with our swimsuits on. Not completely against a crowd, either, if that’s what you’re into, but that’s hardly how I imagined our first time to be.”
“You—” A sharp inhale quakes my chest. The idea that this prince took time out of his day to fantasize about me and reflect on how and when we would have sex for the first time floors me.
I press my index finger to his chin dimple, scratching a line down his masculine jaw before climbing to the arch of his brows, taking ownership of his godly face. He’s not wearing his phoenix mask now, his amber eyes open and vulnerable. Definitely real.
He twists his hand in my wet hair, his arms wrapped around me like the ensnaring vines he grew for the trials—dangerous yet beautiful, steady yet bound to choke the life out of you. I should break free, but he’s not letting me go, and here I am, covered in him, already doomed. He crushes his mouth to mine, exploring every groove with his tongue as though he can somehow make up for this disastrous encounter with a deeper, better kiss.
And it works.
So well in fact that I wrap both my arms around his neck for him not to stop. I want him to take me somewhere private and teach me more than how to swim. The heat that ravages my lower belly is ten times as strong as it was with Henri, and after only a brush.
How would it feel if he actually lowered his trunks and tugged away the narrow scrap of fabric keeping me from feeling all of him? How deep would he stretch me as I lowered myself down on his cock? I’d burn to ashes right here.
I can almost see the whole scenario play out behind my closed lids, and he grabs the flesh of my ass as though he’s thinking the exact same thing. Somehow, the thought that we absolutely, maddeningly, desperately can’t do it spurs me on.
“We have to stop,” I pant between kisses.
“Yes.”
I sink my nails into his scalp to keep him from retreating. “This can’t happen, and I don’t just mean now . You and me, it would be a disaster,” I say, half-serious, half-mad. “So it’s not just a no , it’s a never .”
He smiles against my lips. “Absolutely never.”
“Hum-Hum.” A loud throat-clearing from behind wrenches the flames out of me, replacing them with a torrent of ice.
Ezra raises a pointed brow. “You two are playing with fire…” He trails off. “Zeke and the Crow just joined us.”
Fuck! The madness that was keeping me in Aidan’s arms stretches and snaps, the whiplash spreading a fine crust of snow down my spine. I push myself off his chest with both hands and grab one of the bigger roots from the network above our heads to keep from sinking.
I exhale, and the air in front of my face frosts in ribbons of mist.
Aidan presses his knuckles to his lips for a moment before his princely mask clicks back into place. “Who invited them?”
“Devi invited Damian. I think Zeke just saw him heading this way and tagged along.”
My gaze darts between the two Fae princes. “We were just—” I huff at my own stupid attempt to lie. Ezra saw us. He saw us, and now he can barter my secret away anytime he damn well pleases. My shoulders sag.
Am I really the kind of woman to squander away my chances to be queen, to have a meaningful life, for a summer fling? As enticing as said fling may seem, it would never last.
Ezra extends a hand in my direction. “Need a knight to get you out of this tight spot, Lady Snow?”
I open my mouth to refuse, but the seriousness of his gaze makes me pause. I can’t swim out of here alone, and if Zeke is to see me in the arms of another man, it shouldn’t be the one I actually kissed. I nod and head toward him.
“Thanks.”
Ezra glances at Aidan. “Stay here for a minute and… calm yourself.” He wraps an arm around me, his hold more timid than Aidan’s, yet solid. “And you, hold your breath and bat your feet.”
Ezra presses my back to his chest, and I abandon myself to his grasp as we plunge under the roots to emerge in the middle of the pond.
Zeke squints down at us. “What were you two doing down there?”
“I’m teaching Beth how to swim. You want a turn, shadow man? No one wanted you here, but as long as you found us, we might as well make good use of our time.”
Zeke curls his fists. “You want a piece of me, Lightbringer?”
“I have zero interest in you, actually.”
“Don’t taunt me.”
“What are you going to do? Wait for me to get out of the pond to punch me?” Ezra cracks. “You can’t swim.”
My feet bump solid ground, and Ezra loosens his hold. He grazes the nape of my neck with his thumb in lieu of goodbye, still bouncing off insults with my fiancé.
While the two men posture, Aidan discreetly peels himself out of the pond and into the lowest of the shallow pools. He rubs down his face with both hands, the dangerous spark burning in his amber gaze taking a life of its own.
“Enough, you two. Either fight like men or shut up already,” Devi clips.
Willow waves me over emphatically, now standing alone in the highest pool, and I move to join her, but Zeke stops me. “Babe. A word.”
He takes me aside.
Everyone is still watching, and I think he means it that way. His hand curls like a wolf’s jaw around my elbow. “You can’t do that, you know?” he whispers.
“Do what?”
He stands a little taller, still speaking too low for anyone else to hear. “Act like a tart with your boobs hanging out, grinding against Lightbringer in public.”
A hot, almost suffocating mix of rage, shame, and self-consciousness engulfs me. All three emotions compete for the title role in this hideous play we’re enacting, when only righteous anger would suffice. “I was not?—”
“Are you hearing me?” he asks as he bends down to peck my cheek.
But I sink my nails in my palms, a hiccup dribbling up my throat. I know who holds the power in our non-relationship, and it’s not me. “Yes.”
“Good.”
My jealous, possessive fiancé kissed a second-year very publicly this week, a fact almost every student with a mouth has run by me since then, to see how I’d react, and his hypocrisy makes me want to claw at his smug face. An undertow of humiliation ices what’s left of my good mood, and I quickly climb to the tartan blanket.
Elio snaps his book shut. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I roar, snapping inadvertently at the only man here who’s never put his ego above my well-being. “But I’m done with dumb swimming lessons and stupid, stupid boys. And for clarity, that does not include you.”
Elio climbs to his feet. “I’ll walk back to the Abbey with you.”
Tears wet my cheeks as he dusts off his blanket and wraps it around my shoulders, ushering me away from the others. I must have been under a spell earlier. From now on, I won’t let Aidan, Zeke, or any other jackass prince within two feet of me.
The next time I’m tempted to give into my most basic urges, I won’t be so quick to forget what the price for being carefree is. It’s too expensive for a moth.
One night of passion isn’t worth the freedom I can buy with a Royal Academy diploma in one hand and a Shadow mask in the other. Morpheus can strike me down where I stand, but I’m not marrying a misogynistic pig just to become queen. The countdown to graduation begins.