3. Ivy
IVY
Despair clings to me, but I don't get long to linger on Leonardo’s exit before Hugo takes a step toward me.
“Wait, is that a dead body?” he blurts, gaping down at the mess beside me.
“Two,” I correct as he brushes a hand through his hair with a sigh.
“Right,” he mumbles, shaking his head before his eyes return to mine. “Are you okay?”
“Nope.”
My sass gets the better of me, popping the P like it’s my life’s purpose, but I don’t hate the way it makes my brother squirm.
“That's to be expected,” he states, taking a deep breath, as if filling himself with oxygen will fuel my recovery. He shuffles his feet awkwardly as he points over his shoulder at the closed door. “The guys mentioned what Father said. He—”
“You knew,” I interject, tilting my head a fraction so my gaze can absorb every inch of his reaction, and a familiar flash of guilt shines in his eyes. It was in Baron's eyes, Sax’s, Archer’s, and Teddy’s… now his. There’s no denying it.
The atmosphere is charged without a single word being spoken, charged with an energy I can’t work out as it twists around my neck, choking my senses, my pulse ringing in my ears.
“Yes,” he admits, his chin threatening to drop to his chest, but he manages to keep his head up as I purse my lips. “Ivy,” he starts, but I lift my hand and finally rise from my seat.
I sidestep him, anticipating an attempt to hold me back, but to my surprise, he doesn't.
I’m halfway across the room before I glance back at him.
Determination, anger, and righteous indignation burn through me, making it clear that no matter how much exhaustion clings to me, my night isn't done yet.
“Call a meeting,” I blurt, and his eyebrows gather.
“What?”
“Now.”
I turn away from him, moving toward the door, when my name is but a breath on his lips.
“Ivy.”
“Call a meeting,” I repeat, narrowing my eyes as I peer over my brother once again, watching intently as he sighs. He stuffs his hands in his pockets as he shakes his head.
“You don't get to call a meeting,” he explains softly, and I level him with a deathly stare.
“Call a meeting, Hugo.”
“Ivy,” he warns, but I’m done repeating myself.
“Now, Hugo,” I hiss, eliminating the rest of the distance between me and the exit, and as my hand curls around the handle, his question makes me pause.
“Where?”
I don't have time to think over the answer, I just say the first thing that comes to mind. “The arena.”
He nods, defeat lowering his shoulders as he clears his throat. “Let someone—”
“If you finish that sentence with some bullshit about not going alone, I'll hit you with a roundhouse kick to the face,” I promise, glaring at him, and I don't miss the way his throat bobs as he nods.
Refusing to hang around any longer, I storm out into the hallway, only for my feet to stutter. I spy my hated mates crowding my father at the opposite end of the hallway. Adrenaline spikes through my veins, and I take off to my right, in the opposite direction.
I move, unscathed in my heels, bewildered by the fact that they’re still tied around my ankles after the carnage I’ve already navigated, but the fleeting thought is quickly disregarded as the cool night air ghosts over my skin and I lurch to a stop, slamming the door shut behind me.
A soft exhale falls from my lips, a grumble rippling through me when I don’t feel my temperature drop.
“Ivy.”
I startle at my name, hearing the panic flicker through the caller’s voice, and I glance over my shoulder to spy Sax on the other side of the windowed door. I move on instinct, wrapping my fingers around the door handle as pulsing heat burns through my veins.
I don't know who's more startled, me or him, as heat melts the handle, trapping him firmly on the other side.
It’s not my action that surprises me, but the fact that it worked on the first try.
“Ivy,” he croaks, banging his hand on the glass, and I shake my head, taking off down the path without another look.
My plan isn't to stop him, or any of them; I know it’s impossible. I’m just employing a simple delay tactic.
Following the winding path, I let my steps slow and the night air guide me.
Any concept of time betrays me, but the air is wistful, with the essence of dawn teetering on the horizon.
I make it halfway before I give in, burning the straps holding my heels in place and kicking them off. I’m irritated at the world; I don’t need to add the heels to the list too.
Instead, I opt to walk barefoot on the grass that edges the path as I trudge toward the arena.
Hatred is thick on my tongue, and my thoughts are just as scattered as earlier.
I can't figure out exactly who I'm angry with. All of them, really, but I need someone to pull it out of me, to channel all of my frustrations until it’s out of my system.
I'm not the one who did anything wrong, but I’m the one who carries the consequences of their actions, and I don't imagine they'll feel any differently for it.
Refusing to let defeat win, I straighten my spine, and all too quickly, the arena comes into view. My steps slow as surprise takes over at the sight of familiar faces heading inside.
It seems I can call a meeting, but instead of feeling impressed by the fact that I have, I'm instantly riddled with more tension.
Despair threatens to drown me as I reach for the door.
I hoped I would have time to plan what it is I wanted to say and achieve in here, but it's impossible with so much stuff racing around in my head.
Footsteps sound from behind me, and I'm quickly enveloped in a familiar scent, one that soothes and pains me all at once as Archer steps into view, leaning around me to grab the door handle. He opens it wide for me to enter, my name on his tongue.
“Ivy,” he breathes, and I ignore him, stepping inside without a backward glance, and to my surprise, it seems he knows well enough to give me some distance.
Entering the same room we used last time, I hover at the doorway for a moment, spotting Silas, along with Francesca, Odesa, and Bonnie, as well as a few professors who are already here.
Professor Carbon gives me a pointed look as she sits across the room, her eyelids heavy with tiredness.
Before doubt steals my breath, I inch a little deeper into the room, offsetting my hated mates, who slip through the open space to my left to find their usual seats.
There’s an open spot waiting for me, but I’m thankful for the reprieve.
My pulse was quickening at their proximity, and I don’t need them messing with my center of gravity any more than they already have.
I don’t turn to give them any attention, but I feel their presence shift, and in that moment, I make the decision to ignore my usual spot, draping myself in confidence as I stride down the middle of the U-shaped table to perch myself dead center, where Viola would usually sit.
I can sense everyone looking at me, but I don't care. Worry, anger, disgust; it’s all projected in my direction, but none of it matters.
I'm more shocked that everyone keeps their mouth shut, seemingly intent on letting Viola handle my rebelliousness, and as luck would have it, she's the last to step into the room, a foot behind my brother.
Her face is expressionless as she stares at me. Her brown hair is pulled back into a soft ponytail, and she's in the same outfit she wore earlier, which suggests she’s been just as busy as I have and hasn't been able to relax. However, what we've been up to, I assume, is far different.
“Take a seat, Ivy,” she states, and I shrug, swinging my legs carelessly, despite the seriousness of the situation.
“I’m good where I am,” I confirm, and she shakes her head.
“This isn't how meetings are called. There are protocols in place,” she declares calmly as my tongue drags along my bottom lip.
“And do those protocols stipulate how you handle knowing someone's magical ability before they do?” I retort, and for the first time, not a single drop of guilt flashes in anyone's eyes as I call them out for their betrayal. “I’m going to take your silence as a no,” I declare, silently irritated by the fact that there's no remorse in her eyes.
She clears her throat, a sense of agitation that threatens to rival mine thickening the air. “There are many things in this world, Ivy, that—”
“I don't give a fuck about the rest of the world,” I interject.
“Ivy,” Hugo warns, and I shake my head, but before I can utter a single word, the sound of a fist slamming against the table vibrates through the room, and Francesca rises from her seat.
“Is this some hissy fit, or—”
“If you don't have anything constructive to say, shut your mouth before I burn this whole fucking room to the ground,” I snarl, seemingly intent on listening to no one tonight as Francesca sneers, unable to lift her head due to Teddy's magic that still lingers over her, Odesa, and Bonnie.
I half wish it would lift so I can look her in the eyes as I threaten her, but there's something obnoxiously gratifying about her having to keep her head dipped, something that I let linger in the deepest, darkest, petty parts of my brain, and it brings a smile to my lips.
“I’m a Fire Protector,” she hisses, chest heaving with every sharp inhale. “I—”
“It doesn't matter,” Archer interrupts, making my eyes widen and my attention snap to him before I can stop, but I startle the second my gaze latches on to his hands.
His burnt hands. My mind wars with my heart as he proceeds, shaking his head with his jaw tight.
“Her flame was something else entirely. Or it was back there, in the bathroom, at least,” he reiterates, and it's me who feels the tendrils of guilt flooding me, twisting in my stomach as whispers swirl around the room.
Slowly, he stands, taking his sweet-ass time walking around the table to enter the U, bypassing Viola without a backward glance, until he's before me.
Clearing my throat, I lace my fingers together. “If you want me to heal them—”
“I don’t,” he interjects, despite the mess that is presented before me. “I want to offer you the truth,” he clarifies, and my nostrils flare.
“I want theirs, not yours. Not yet,” I add, waving my arm around, and he nods, remaining silent as he takes a seat beside me and plants his hand on my arm.
Goosebumps trail at the contact, and it takes everything in me to fight against it as the sound of a chair dragging across the floor vibrates through the room, and Baron stands, clearing his throat.
“The Fates will bless us with a phoenix,” he starts, his voice a true replica of Professor Viola's, and I instantly understand that he's using his powers to reveal to me what I don't know, while Archer’s hand warms against my arm.
“How do you know?” he continues, his voice suddenly mimicking Professor Carbon.
“It doesn't matter. It's time we protected ourselves from the other kingdoms, and a phoenix is the only way to do it. The Fates will it so.” Professor Viola’s voice parts Baron's lips once more, and the air feels thick.
Viola seems completely unfazed as another thump sounds from my left.
“What the hell are you all talking about?” Francesca grunts, and Teddy snarls.
“Shut up, Francesca.”
I can’t stop myself from following the sound of his voice, only to find his hands are clenched, knuckles white on the table as he bares his teeth at her.
“This is ridiculous,” Bonnie hisses, trying to make herself relevant, but no one cares.
Especially not Baron, who continues. “Do they know?” he hollers, his voice matching Professor Carbon’s once again.
“No, and it will remain that way,” he continues in Viola’s tone, the short snippet a replica once again. ”For their safety and ours too,” he declares, finalizing his speech before he retakes his seat.
I drag my tongue along my bottom lip as I clear my throat.
“Who exactly knew?” I breathe, my heart fluttering in my chest.
“Viola, Carbon, our parents, your fated mates, and me,” Hugo declares.
“Why the hell didn't I know?” Francesca interrupts once again, and I'm ready to make good on my earlier threat when Sax’s voice carries through the air, cutting deeper than I could.
“You weren't worthy.”
Again, I wish I could see the look on her face at that response, but instead, I focus on the matter at hand.
“What else?” Hugo asks, his eyes silently pleading.
“Fuck what else, I want answers,” Francesca grunts back, and I scoff.
“Join the club.”
Who knew Francesca and I could be on the same page for once, but this has nothing to do with her and everything to do with me.
Glancing around the room, the tension and feeling of distrust ratchet even higher in equal measure.
Even though the secret is about me, there are many people in this room who also didn't know.
Hugo clears his throat and stands. “Ivy, I—”
“I have nothing to say to you,” I blurt, crashing through whatever he’s attempting to say. “I called this meeting for you to offer me the truth on my terms, since you were never going to do it on yours,” I hiss, letting my gaze sweep over my fated mates before landing on Viola.
The reality is, I’m more than drowning now.
I can't piece together any of the information in my mind.
None of what they’ve said has helped ease the raging inferno inside of me, which makes it just as hard to figure out who deserves the brunt of my rage.
Archer clears his throat. “There's more, Ivy. On our end. You have to let me give that to you,” he breathes, and I snatch my arm away from his, lurching to my feet.
I can believe the people in this room. His magic makes it impossible not to, especially combined with Baron’s, but they don't deserve a response right now, not after this, knowing I need more time to digest.
A heavy sigh falls from across the room, and Silas stands. “Do you need anything else? This doesn't have anything to do with me, and I'm ready to leave.” He cocks a brow at me, and I can't help but wonder why Silas is making so much sense right now.
Brushing my hands over my dress, I take a step toward him.
“Ivy,” Teddy murmurs, but I ignore the warning.
“We're done for now, but I could use an escort home,” I state, eyes fixed on Silas’s.
“Ivy,” Archer adds, and I'm reminded of the moment I promised there would be no one else, just like they did, but that was before I knew the truth, and this isn't even in that same kind of category.
“It's a simple escort home,” I rasp, and Silas nods.
“As you wish,” he mutters as I reach his side, and the twins call my name in tandem.
“Ivy.”
I glance over my shoulder, meeting each of them head-on before my eyes settle on my brother, but even that's unbearable.
I feel myself disassociate as my gaze darkens. “I’m not staying here, knowing my allies are as dangerous as my enemies.”