2. Ivy
Chapter 2
Ivy
Shit. I’m lost.
I’m actually lost.
I’m already late as fuck because my flight was delayed by several hours and now I’m… I don’t know where the hell I am.
After the day from hell, I arrived at Raventhorn about an hour ago.
I missed orientation and the campus tour, so I don’t know where to find my dorm, Myrrdin House.
When I pulled up on the campus grounds I went straight to security, where I was issued a map and given directions to follow the red route.
I thought I was doing exactly that, but here I am again, in the same spot I stood not ten minutes ago.
Frantically I look around the dark surroundings of the campus. At the vast expanse of the Science Building and the cluster of oak trees on its left. Next to that is the river with a bridge going over it and more trees.
I’ve circled this area five times and followed the map exactly as it directs, so why the hell am I still lost?
I glance at the tiny silver face of the watch around my wrist and frown when I see it’s nearly one in the morning.
Damn it. This is not how I imagined spending my first day.
Things started off so well with Mom and Levgen taking me to the airport. We even had time for breakfast together in our favorite café.
Everything was so nice, and the quality time gave my nerves a much-needed break. Then things went straight to hell the moment they left me. That was when the announcement came up that my flight was delayed.
It was only by forty minutes, which was bad but not so bad. But then forty minutes turned into an hour, which swiftly became two, then finally four.
It was nearly four p.m. when I eventually boarded the plane, then the flight from L.A. to Boston took just over five hours.
When I got out of Boston Logan International I was thrust into the gridlock of traffic in my town car. There was simply no hope of getting here any sooner than I did.
Now I have no one I can call and nowhere to turn to.
And where the hell is everyone? The campus holds the silence of a mausoleum.
With over eight thousand eighteen to twenty-four-year-old residents on this campus there’s no way I can be the only person wandering the grounds at this hour of the night. Yet it seems I am.
The only sign of life I’ve seen so far was the guard at the gates, who was actually rude and barely wanted to help me.
A haggard sigh falls from my lips as I turn to my left, directly into the cold wind as it blows my way. It lifts the ends of my hair and rushes up into the trees, making the leaves rattle.
Hopelessly I stare at Raventhorn Hall sitting on the hill in the distance.
With the elegance of a medieval castle and the expanse of a fortress, it takes up most of the space on that side of the campus.
Many of the buildings around me have similar Gothic architecture, but with its stone walls, lancet windows, and stained glass, Raventhorn Hall looks like it was pulled straight out of the fifth century.
When I visited the campus weeks ago Raventhorn Hall was the first thing that fascinated me. The building the registration was held in is just across from there, so I got a good view of it.
In the daylight it looked like something from a fairytale or the paintings I love by John William Waterhouse. Even though I’m pissed as hell that I’m lost and late, I can appreciate its beauty against the moonlight. The building holds a different sort of magic and fascination.
Knights become Knights in that building, and that is the place where they do everything .
The building is completely off limits to me and those who aren’t either married to a Knight or a fully-fledged member of their Brotherhood.
Attempting to go inside without either of those criteria will land you in the kind of trouble I don’t even want to think about.
It is curious though—the things they do inside there.
I imagine all sorts of scenarios and I know I wouldn’t be the first person to wish they could get a peek in. Even for a second.
The secret affairs of the Knights weren't discussed in my household. I was only ever told things on a need-to-know basis. When I was growing up Levgen made life for Mom and me as normal as any other family, but there were times when I was forced to acknowledge what we weren’t, and what we are.
I imagine it would have been the same way if Dad were around.
Maybe even more so because my father was one of the senior guards to the previous leader of the Knights.
Dad came here, too, after completing his earlier education in Russia.
This was where he would have taken his vows and where he met Levgen.
They were as close as brothers. It was while they were on vacation in Russia that my mother and father met. Again, thanks to Levgen.
I’m sure he never saw it in the cards that he’d end up taking care of his best friend’s wife and daughter to keep them safe from certain death.
“A word of advice. It’s never a good idea to roam around campus at this time of night by yourself.” A cold, chilling voice speaks from the shadows behind me, stealing the breath from my lungs.
I whirl around, nearly jumping out of my skin from the fright that clutches my nerves with long, sharp talons.
I grab my chest, feeling my heart pounding as I come face to face with a tall, tall , muscular man.
Standing paces away from me, he looks me up and down while he takes a drag on his cigarette. The silver moonlight is bright enough to highlight the handsome Viking-warrior features of his chiseled face and sharp jawline, along with the vicious-looking dragon tattooed down the length of his neck.
His dark hair is styled in a sexy, trendy undercut with the sides short and the top long and swoopy in the wind.
He looks young enough to be a student here, but the five-o’clock shadow darkening his chin makes him appear older in a forbidden way. And those eyes…
People always stare at mine because the silver-gray color looks like frosted glass. He has the opposite effect because his are a blue so bright they almost have their own light.
The fright has momentarily paralyzed me, but so has the unmistakable menacing vibe emanating from him.
It has nothing to do with the fact that he’s dressed in full black—black jeans, black shirt, black biker jacket. The menace is directly coming from him.
The curious look in his eyes suggests he’s been watching me for a while.
But I never even heard him come up. The path where he stands is a mixture of pebbles, leaves, and twigs, so I should have heard something .
Either I was so engrossed in my thoughts that I didn’t hear him, or he’s good at sneaking up on people. Something tells me it’s the latter.
“Is that all you do? Stare?” He tilts his head, gives me a lopsided grin, and blows out a ring of smoke that surrounds him in a misty haze.
I swallow the discomfort and strange fascination slithering up my throat, then take a breath to clear my head so I can speak. “You scared me.”
Most people would give some form of apology or something along those lines, but the full-blown wicked smile that spreads across his face tells me that this guy isn’t like most people.
Puffing on the cigarette, he comes closer. So close we’re almost sharing the same airspace, and I have to admit I’m not ready to be that close to someone so striking they don’t look real.
He towers over me and I peg him to be about six foot four because he seems to be the same height as Levgen.
His lips part but another bout of seconds passes before he speaks again. “What are you doing in the Hollows out here by yourself, Bambi ?”
Bambi?
And Hollows?
That sounds like the Knights’ prison, the Hallows . The place where my father rots.
“I’m lost. Is this place off-limits, too? I didn’t see a sign.” I look around again, just in case I missed something.
He laughs, deep and smoky, as if the smoke from the cigarette obeys his command to amplify the power behind his amusement.
Since I’m not sure what part of what I said is funny, I remain silent and hope he’ll tell me.
“There is no sign. We call it the Hollows because a student was murdered here many years ago. The killer remains a ghost. No one comes here at night, and certainly not by themselves.”
Goosebumps rush over my skin and my body heats like I’ve just broken out in a fever. “They were murdered?”
“Yes.”
“And no one found the killer?”
“You weren’t listening to me, little deer.” His grin becomes more animated. “I said the killer remains a ghost . Urban legend has it that the killer matched the description of the caretaker who died a year before the murder in the same spot you’re standing now.”
While my stomach plummets past my feet he takes another lazy drag on his cigarette, looking pleased that he’s managed to scare the absolute shit out of me.
Then something happens. I’m not sure what it is exactly. A shift in the air. A shift in the tension between us. A shift in my being.
It’s not clear but whatever it is changes the way he’s looking at me.
The look he’s giving me now is more predatory, animalistic and hellish.
“People and their urban legends.” I speak only because he’s looking at me like he expects an answer.
“Had to come from somewhere, though, right? There’s always some truth to these urban legends .”
“Maybe.”
“The moral of the story is you never can tell when someone crazy might decide to rip your little body to pieces. Bad things happen to the lost on this campus.” He smiles as if captivated by the idea of watching me being ripped apart. “Some guy with a fucked-up mind and a bad attitude might get the wrong idea.”
My breath stalls in the cage of my chest, turning to ice, and suddenly I can’t breathe.
The ounce of my brain that’s working presents me with two options.
Run like hell. Or tolerate this… creep for a little longer to get some directions to my dorm.
Running from a guy who's giving predatory vibes when I don’t know where I’m going might not be the smartest idea. After all, what do all predators do when you run?
Chase until they catch you.
Chase until they kill you.
Chase until they consume you.
With that reasoning I decide to go with option two.
“I’m trying to find Myrrdin House.” I nod as if the action can change the subject to a safer topic. I hope it can.
He observes me silently for what feels like years before he lifts his hand and points to my right.
I turn to look and frown. There’s nothing there but darkness through the thicket of trees. “I went past there several times.”
“There’s a path through the trees.” His voice returns to that low rumble. “You can’t see it from here because of the overgrowth of honeysuckle, but it’s there. You’ll see Myrrdin House once you reach the end of the path.”
The tension in my body unravels and I feel some semblance of relief for finally having directions. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I should get going. I’m already late as it is.” Now that I have directions, instinct is telling me to wrap things up as quickly as possible with this guy.
“What’s your name, Bambi?”
“It’s not Bambi.” I smirk.
That grin comes back, but this time it reveals dimples that should be made illegal. “What’s your name, new girl ?”
I want to counter the new girl comment, too, but decide against it. “It’s Ivy. Ivy Yegorov.”
“Hello, Ivy Yegorov.”
“Hi.”
When he holds out his right hand to shake mine, I take note of the tattoos on the underside of his wrist peeking from under the sleeve of his jacket.
One is the Elder Futhark rune for defense. Although I can barely see the other I know what it is. It’s the Greek symbol for Sigma. Levgen has both of those tattoos, and so did my father.
This guy is a Knight. The realization throws me because he’s the first I’ve come across in nearly a decade.
Since they get that Sigma tattoo after initiation, and that takes place at the start of sophomore year, I know he’s not a freshman. From his confidence I also don’t think he’s a sophomore. I guess him to be a junior or senior here.
I shake his hand briefly and take the opportunity when he releases me to move a step back, out of the unwanted close proximity.
“You might do well to remember you’re not in Kansas anymore.” He holds my gaze, and the blue of his eyes seems brighter with a sheen of interest.
“Sure. I’ll try to remember that…” I drop my voice purposely in a suggestive manner that gives him a chance to tell me his name. I’m just being polite. The last thing I want to do on my first day is make an enemy out of a Knight.
“My name’s Thorne. Thorne Ivanov.”
The moment his name falls from his lips the air evaporates from my body and my lungs compress into nothing. If it were possible for me to fade into the air with the breeze, I would.
Avoid anyone with the surname Ivanov.
Sorry, Mom. Everything has gone wrong since I left you, and this has to be the cherry taking its place on the top of my shitty day.
What in the ever-loving hell are the chances of the first person I meet being Thorne Ivanov ?
This is him. This is what he looks like. Deadly handsome with a deadly presence and a deadly smile as potent as poison.
This is the guy. And my father is in prison for plotting to kill his.
Jesus. This is so much harder than I could have ever imagined.
Stay calm, Ivy. Breathe slowly so you don’t have a panic attack.
He doesn’t know who I am, so there’s no need to give Thorne Ivanov something to be suspicious about.
“It’s nice to meet you.” That’s the best version of calm I can muster with my insides wrapping into knots. “See you around.”
“I hope so.” His voice takes on a smooth, silky edge. “Maybe next time I’ll show you my dick piercing. Unless you want to see it now.”
Heat rushes over me, dancing across my skin, and the sinful smirk on his lips makes me feel like I’m on fire. Then he makes everything a hundred times worse by closing the space between us again.
I already look like the fish out of water, but looking like the inexperienced virgin who’s never even seen a dick before is another thing. And in front of Thorne Ivanov?
When his smile brightens I swallow past the wedge closing my throat and force my brain to work so I can say something.
Anything.
“No, thank you.” My answer shouldn’t amuse him, but it seems to.
“Are you sure?” He comes so close his breath tickles my nose and the scent of him, a spicy woodland fragrance laced with smoke, invades my senses.
He stares down at me and I realize he’s close enough to kiss me.
His gaze flicks down to my parted lips and I wonder for a fleeting second if he’s actually thinking about it.
What if he is?
What if he did?
A kiss from a stranger who’s supposed to be forbidden to me.
What the hell am I thinking? I’m supposed to be planning an exit route, not thinking about what the guy I need to avoid tastes like.
“You don’t look so sure, Bambi.” He doesn’t miss a beat.
“Yes, I’m very sure,” I answer with more firmness and steady my thoughts. “I’m positive I don’t want to see your dick piercing.”
He could be pulling my leg about that, but somehow I don’t think he is. He looks like the kind of guy who would have a piercing… like that.
Regardless, I have no desire to see it—pierced or otherwise.
Thorne narrows his eyes and looks me over with scrutiny before inching away. “Never had a woman refuse my dick before.”
“People say there’s a first time for everything.” I step back again, reclaiming my personal space.
“Maybe we should see about that.” He gives me a look that says I could fuck you right here if I wanted to , then lifts his chin as if in defiance of the thought that he’s anything other than irresistible.
Looking at him, I understand why. He’s gorgeous. Greek-god gorgeous. But I’ll be the girl who resists him.
“Good night,” I mutter, taking another step backward.
“Good night, Bambi.”
I’m grateful for the chance to leave, but I remain calm as I turn and walk away.
The weight of his stare rests on my shoulders but I keep going, heading down to the mass of trees.
When I reach it, I spot the paved path straight away. Now that I’m so close, I can also see where I went wrong. It’s indeed the overgrowth that’s concealing the path. You wouldn’t know it was there unless you were told.
Everywhere I’ve been so far has looked so immaculate that I’m guessing the groundsmen must have left this section like this on purpose because it looks good.
When I’m enveloped by the trees I risk glancing back over my shoulder to see if Thorne is still there.
He is.
I quicken my pace until I’m far enough away and there’s no possible way he can see me. But still, I can feel his eyes on me.
Even when I reach the dorm those piercing eyes still burn into my skin.
I know I’m being utterly paranoid. He’d have to be the ghost from his urban legend to see me through the walls of the building.
Except my gut tells me that my slipup tonight in meeting him might have earned me the type of unwanted attention I never wanted.