27. Ivy
27
IVY
My transformation, the release of souls, and our passionate reunion - have left me drained but changed. The air still shimmers with residual power, supernatural energies mixing with the natural world in ways I can now perceive with perfect clarity.
“We need to find Life,” I say, pushing myself up from where I’m nestled between Tate and Bram. “Before she realises what’s happened and tries something desperate. Well, more desperate.”
Torin sits up and stretches. “Can you sense her? With all your new... everything?”
I close my eyes, reaching out with my expanded awareness. My power swells as I search, touching the spaces between life and death where she should be. But there’s nothing—no trace of her overwhelming presence, no echo of her power.
“That’s not possible,” I mutter, pushing my senses further. I can feel every supernatural being in the network of realms. I can trace the path of every soul still streaming overhead to their new destinations. But Life is simply... gone.
Bram’s shadow-touched energy ripples beside me. “Let me try.” His power reaches out, diving into the spaces between realities where he can move freely. After a moment, he shakes his head. “Nothing.”
Tate’s hand finds mine, our fated marks burning brightly in sync. “Could she have somehow hidden herself from you?”
“Maybe. Or maybe she’s already gone through the cycle. Maybe in trying to stop death completely, she triggered her own rebirth.”
We sit with that possibility for a moment, watching more souls streak across the morning sky.
“Nah,” I say, shaking my head and dismissing my own theory. “She’s hiding. Somewhere. She’s scared.”
“Lila,” Tate murmurs.
“Hmm?” I ask with a frown. “You think she is hiding as Lila?”
“You know that Lila is a real creature?” he ventures.
“Yeah, I know. We should find her, warn her.”
“She’s at MistHallow. We went there looking for Vex to help us with this… thing. The Headmaster is something else. He told us Lila was there recovering.”
“Oh, really?” I ask, my heart thumping. “How bad is she?”
“Not good,” Bram mutters. “But I believe she is safe at MistHallow.”
“Okay, good. I need to see her.”
“Maybe after the dust settles?” Tate says in a weird tone.
But I get it. Lila was used and put in harm’s way because of me. I’m probably the last person she wants to see, but I have to go and apologise, if nothing else, so she knows I’m sorry.
“Okay, later,” I whisper.
“So what now?” Torin asks. “We just sit around and wait for Life to show up?”
“Well, we aren’t sitting around here naked and covered in cum,” I retort as my stomach rumbles with an embarrassingly loud growl. “Cosmic transformation apparently works up an appetite.”
Bram chuckles and helps me to my feet. My legs feel wobbly, both from the transformation and our passionate reunion. Looking around at our scattered, torn clothing, I grimace.
“Uh, guys? We might have a small problem.”
Torin waves his hand, chaos magick swirls around him, and I gawp. He catches me and snickers. “You aren’t the only badass in town now, princess.”
“Wow. Did that come from… me?”
He nods. “Yes. When we became your anchors here earlier, the mage magick inside me evolved….” He holds his hand up as I cringe, “… I know you hate that word, but it is what it is.”
Suddenly, we’re all clean and dressed, and I grin. “Well, look at you. All chaos-magey. Your mum is going to have a shitfit.”
He chuckles. “One can only hope.” He gives me a curious stare.
“What?” I ask, straightening my clothes.
“Did you see my dad in there? Was he one that got set free?”
“You care?” I ask carefully.
“Only if I have to look out for him.”
“It doesn’t work that way. The souls won’t remember their past lives. Or most of them won’t. Some will be born into bodies that can commune with their pasts. Not many, though.”
“Trust my luck, he will be one of them,” he grumbles.
I take his hand and kiss it. “Well, if he is, we will deal with it and him.”
He nods and says, “Let’s go home. Back to ours this time.”
The walk back to their house is surreal and necessary. I want to take in everything that has changed, and I want the guys to see it as well. Every step reveals new aspects of the world I never could perceive before. The trees whisper stories of centuries past, the ground beneath our feet pulses with ley lines of power, and the air is alive with possibility.
Bram moves through patches of shadow like they’re doorways, appearing a few steps ahead and then waiting for us to catch up. Torin’s chaos magick leaves pink sparkling trails in the air as he walks, and Tate’s new markings shift and swirl with each movement, responding to the energy around us.
When we finally reach the guys’ house, we step inside.
We head straight for the kitchen, and I watch Tate move around, pulling out ingredients. His new power is evident in every gesture. Even something as simple as making breakfast has taken on an almost ritualistic quality.
“Bacon, eggs and toast okay with everyone?” he calls out.
“More than,” I reply, my mouth watering already as the sizzle of bacon has never sounded so good.
We each retreat into our own thoughts as we set the table and wait for the food to be ready.
Soon, Tate sets four plates heaped with bacon, eggs, and toast on the kitchen table. The smell is heavenly, and we dig in ravenously, barely speaking as we devour the food.
Between bites, I observe my guys. They’ve changed, not just in power, but in essence. Bram’s shadows seem deeper, more alive. Torin’s chaos magick sparkles around him even when he’s not actively using it. The marks on Tate’s skin shift and dance, telling stories I can almost read.
As I finish the last bite of toast, I lean back in my chair with a contented sigh. “That was amazing. Thank you, Tate.”
He smiles, but there’s an intensity in his gaze that wasn’t there before. “You look exhausted,” he says. “You should get some rest.”
I nod and stand up. “We all should.”
As we head upstairs to the bedroom, everything that has happened comes crashing down at once.
We strip down and climb into bed, our bodies naturally gravitating towards each other. I end up sandwiched between Tate and Bram, with Torin at my feet. The physical contact is grounding, reminding me that despite all the cosmic changes, this—us—remains constant.
“Sleep,” Bram murmurs, his arm draped over my waist. “We’ll figure out the rest when we wake up.”
I close my eyes, letting the exhaustion take over.