15. Ivy #2
With her arm linked through mine, she hauls me away from the table and outside in a flash.
All too quickly, we’re hurrying through the forest to find a domed arena. With wide eyes, I let her lead me through the doors, along with the other students, before we move toward the left, where the women’s changing rooms are. The men are located on the right.
I barely get a chance to take in the white-tiled walls and rows of hangers before I’m dragged into a cubicle.
My lips part, ready to question what it is I’m supposed to be changing into, when air blows around me, swirling with a surprising force as my breath lodges in my throat.
I sway as the short, sharp storm halts, my fingers splaying against the walls as I keep my balance, but I almost lose it again when my gaze lands on my clothes.
Gone is the academy-issued uniform, and in its place is what I can only assume is an academy-issued… I don’t even know what it is, but it’s all… red.
Deep-red boots laced mid-calf, with the same shade of combat pants tucked inside of them. A tight jacket covers my arms, with the neckline of a t-shirt in the same crimson red peeking out beneath it.
My first thought is whether they have this color in nail polish. My second is, why the hell do I need this… armor?
A knock sounds from the other side of my cubicle, startling me from my assessment of myself.
“Ivy? Are you ready?”
Tentatively running my hands over my new outfit, I spy my uniform hanging on the wall, awaiting my return. With a deep breath, I reach for the handle, and the door swings open, revealing my friend in the exact same attire, only it’s forest green.
She smiles. “Red suits you.”
I let her compliment wash over me as I return the attention to my friend. “Green is stunning on you,” I retort, and she waves me off.
“Compliments only make my ego grow, and neither of us needs that,” she muses, and I grin, letting her slip her arm through mine once again as she leads me out of the changing room.
“Please, admitting it is too humble for that to be true,” I insist, but she simply shakes her head as we take the corridor to the left, walking down a tunnel before we’re back outside, only this time, we’re inside the arena.
I gape, surprised. Heaven’s Ridge had an arena. It hosted plenty of events, and I had the chance to attend a time or two, but this feels different. I feel different.
My gaze immediately finds four familiar faces and anger burns through my veins. I avert my stare as quickly as I can, encouraging Meadow to silently tear me as far away from them as possible.
Thankfully, she takes me to the left and we’re quickly lost in the sea of students since everyone is present. She doesn’t stop until we’re in front of Toby and his friends. He smiles at her, running a hand down her arm as she releases me to fall into his embrace.
I turn away.
There’s that green goblin threatening to tear me apart.
“Good morning, students.” My gaze tracks down the source of the voice.
The professor stands in the center of the field, arms relaxed at their sides, palms facing outward as he glares at everyone.
“I’m aware we have some new pupils since the ceremony just finished.
With that in mind, some pairings may be switched around to accommodate our new arrivals.
If you’re new here, my name is Professor Greenhall.
But on to the important stuff. Names will be called out in pairs.
If your name is called, partner off; if it’s not mentioned, you can keep your current pairing.
If that doesn’t make sense, it’s not my problem,” he grunts, dragging a hand over his beard as he looks down at the device in his hand.
“What do we actually do in this class?” Meadow whispers, and I glance over my shoulder at her with Toby’s arm slung around her shoulder.
“It’s basically combat training,” he answers, and my eyes widen, but it’s not fear that takes root in my gut, but a swirling of excitement.
The professor starts to call out names, none of which I’m familiar with, until he bellows.
“Meadow Pollerman, find Hattie Fowler.” My friend steps away from her fated mate as a girl across the crowd moves too, a nervous smile on her face as they inch closer to one another.
“Finally, Miss Ivy Hayworth,” he hollers, and I stand taller, alert and prepared. “Partner with Silas Storm.”
The body of students seems to part, revealing the dark-haired man of the hour. In the same breath, Archer steps forward too.
“Greenhall, choose someone else,” Archer grunts, making my pulse ring in my ears with disbelief as another one of my fated mates draws some unnecessary attention my way.
My eyes narrow with irritation as my lips part, but before I can breathe a word, the professor scoffs.
“I’m the professor here, Archer, not you.”
Archer’s hands curl at his sides as he narrows his eyes at Silas. “Professor?—”
“Not. Another. Word. Archer,” Greenhall grunts as whispers rattle through the students, and I once again find myself wishing the ground would open up beneath me.
Attempting to take control of the situation, I roll my shoulders back and stride toward Silas. The grin that spreads across his face can only be described as wicked, and something tells me I’m not making the situation any better.
“Fireball,” he rasps when I stop beside him, but I don’t bother to turn his way. I don’t dare glance in Archer’s direction either; I center all of my focus on Professor Greenhall.
“I’ve made sure to partner each new pupil with someone with experience to make the transition more seamless. Today, we will be working on endurance. If you don’t know what I’m referring to, your partner will.” He claps his hands twice and the swarm of students moves on cue.
It’s impressive, but it leaves me stumbling over my own feet as I try to keep up.
Silas presses his hand against the middle of my back for guidance and I stiffen at the contact. My instinct is to put a little bit of space between us, but the burning sensation that comes with it, one that promises the scorching stares from four hated mates, has me staying exactly where I am.
My mother raised me to avoid drama at all costs. We spent hours breaking down how to defuse situations and ensure everybody else’s needs were met. But today isn’t about anyone else; it’s about me, and after last night, they deserve whatever I throw at them.
So maybe it is about them, but I have the control for once. It tingles through my body, and I feel alive. Some might say I’m playing with fire, but I am a Fire Protector after all. What did Ember say all Fire Protectors were? Cunning? I like it.
“Endurance means we’re going to run the entire circumference of the arena until the end of class.
It doesn’t matter how fast or slow we go, just that we don’t stop.
We’re timed from the starting line over there.
He expects us to get faster over time, but I’m sure I’ll have a little leeway today since I’m keeping a newbie company,” Silas says with a grin, and I nod.
“How are we timed?” I ask, noting that there’s no one by the line he’s referring to, and there are far too many students here to record us all individually.
“Once we cross the line, it connects to the magic inside of us. It makes it a lot easier than trying to stand by with hundreds of stopwatches,” he explains, and my eyes widen.
“They can just… connect to our magic?” I breathe, and he nods.
My steps falter as we approach the mark on the grass and I suck in a sharp breath as I step over the threshold. A gentle tingle floats down my spine, but otherwise, there’s nothing different.
“Good?” Silas asks, and I exhale slowly, finding my own rhythm as his hand falls away and we take off on a slow jog.
“I’m okay.”
“Good. So, you ghosted me last night,” he states, making me stumble over my own feet as I whip my face to his. A grin curls the corner of his mouth as I splutter, turning my focus straight ahead while I ensure I don’t stop moving.
“I don’t think I’d quite call it ghosting,” I mumble, and he snickers.
“Maybe not, but I thought we were having a good time.”
I consider the short time we hung out. It was okay, it could have been better, and it most definitely could have been worse.
“We were, but sometimes that’s not our fate,” I mumble, my mother’s words dripping off my tongue as if we practiced them this morning.
Shaking my head, I exhale slowly before matching my breathing to my steps so I can up my tempo a little.
Maybe if I’m too out of breath, I won’t need to talk.
“Maybe it wasn’t our fate for last night, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t a chance of it being our fate in the future,” he offers, a lilt of hope in his voice, and I glance at him from the corner of my eye.
Rubbing my lips together, I commit the greatest sin and ask, “Your fated mate?—”
“They haven’t been decided yet, remember? But it doesn’t matter when they are because I don’t believe in it. Especially not if I already believe I’ve found the one.”
My stomach churns. I’m sure he’s saying it to fill me with hope and reassurance, but all I can envision is the sight of another girl hearing that one word up on that stage. Reject . A chill washes over me.
When I don’t respond, he clears his throat. “Enough about me. How are you adapting? Do you like it so far?” he asks, changing the topic, and I’m thankful for it.
“For the most part, yes. Do I like the fact that I’m two years behind and oblivious to half of the lessons going on? Not so much,” I admit, my mind flooded with Professor Grogan’s indifference to my situation yesterday.
“You’re struggling?” he asks, cocking a brow at me, and I grimace.
“Overwhelmed.”
His eyebrows crinkle for a moment. “If you need help, I can do that.”
My steps slow as I stare at him. “For real?”
“Sure.” He drapes his arm around my shoulder. “I’ll help you with whatever you?—”
His arm is gone before he can finish his sentence as he’s jolted from behind.
Startled, I struggle to stop with the mass of students still running around me, but I can’t see him.
Before I can move to the side and search, another presence appears at my side, eyes locked on mine.
“I’ll meet you at your room after classes. You can break down what you need help with, and I’ll guide you.”
He’s serious. Dead freaking serious.
I scoff. “Thanks for the offer, Sax, but I’d rather not.” Glancing over my shoulder as I attempt to move to the side, I don’t make it two steps before his hand wraps around my upper arm, keeping me close. “Sax,” I warn, but he ignores me.
“You won’t find him. Not until I say so. But the quicker you agree to my terms, the faster he’ll return.”
My eyes narrow. “What did you do?”
“Technically, I’m not doing anything because I’m standing right here. Archer, on the other hand…”
He doesn’t even need to finish that sentence for me to know nothing good will follow.
“Your terms?” I grumble, arching a brow at him as a ghost of a smile flits across his lips.
“Your room after class, and you only come to me for help. No one else.”
“If I decline?” I retort, my jaw tightening with agitation, and he shrugs.
“Do you want to find out?”
And to think I was giving this guy brownie points earlier because his sprite is so cute.
My mistake.
He’s as devilish as the rest of them; he’s just a lot more subtle about it.
“Time’s ticking, Ivy. Do we have a deal?”
My heart hammers with the tone of his voice, panic getting the better of me as I swallow down my pride and concede.
“Deal.”