Chapter 30 Ivy
thirty
Ivy
Opening night at the Theatre Enthique was an extravagant affair.
Red was the colour of choice for the décor, and it was everywhere.
Enormous displays of fresh flowers in shades of red, burgundy and black were arranged throughout the venue, and their perfume permeated the air.
The magical flames in the candelabras on either side of the stage glowed a brilliant red, and the stage curtain and drapery that lined the private boxes had been changed to match.
A pair of red eyes would have matched the décor perfectly, and disappointment festered inside of Ivy as she swept her gaze around the theatre and saw no sign of Killian.
Ivy’s Ascension took place two weeks ago, and despite venturing into the city with Finare each night to frequent the usual places, Killian was nowhere to be found.
She tried to justify his absence: perhaps he was busy hunting Fledglings, or errands kept him outside of Zentroa.
Although she had no reason to suspect that their night together meant anything to Killian, she was certain that he would have sought her out after her Ascension, and she’d made that as simple as possible for him by spending as much time out of Veldmoor as she could.
Since there had been no mention of Killian at all, she wondered if something sinister had happened to him.
She didn’t believe that he would have met his Ending, especially not at the hands of the Idthrakis, because she was sure that Voresta would still be gloating about it.
She kept reminding herself that she hardly knew Killian, but even so, she was certain that there were forces keeping them apart.
A seed of worry had formed in the pit of her gut after the first week went by without any sign of him. The seed grew with each passing night.
Getting time away from Leseldh was becoming increasingly difficult, and he reinforced his desire to confirm their Resonance regularly.
The routine between them involved a nightly feed at Sabor Sanguine and was followed by his insistence that she spend time with him before venturing out with Finare.
Leseldh also requested that she share his bed at least once every couple of nights, even though she always woke up alone.
So far, she’d resisted his attempts to do anything more than cuddle.
She imagined tonight would follow a similar pattern.
They had foregone the trip to Sabor Sanguine in favour of the theatre, but enduring a full-length performance before returning to Veldmoor meant that her trip to the clubs would be later than usual.
Although the clubs never closed and were a constant hive of activity, she didn’t want to vary her schedule in fear of missing Killian.
She smoothed the skirts of the pink and black dress that Leseldh had left on her armoire door.
She’d never seen the dress before. When she slipped the garment over her head, she was overcome by a feeling of trepidation.
It was beautiful, and it fit her perfectly, but it had a wrongness to it.
She couldn’t stop the chill that ran through her each time her eyes caught the pink fabric.
The performance was yet to commence, but the orchestra that was positioned before the stage provided background music as the theatre filled with people.
It was an unusual but welcome change, as the roar of the many mingled voices within the large space was dulled by the pleasant sounds of instruments.
The music eventually faded, and a silence fell over the theatre.
The lighting dimmed, the curtain raised, and the performance began.
It was a ballet overture, and the orchestra provided the music for the dance.
The dancers had a fluid grace that Ivy had never seen before—although she’d seen ballet performances at the Theatre Enthique before, this one was different.
As she looked closer, she noticed the pointed ears of some of the dancers, and she let out a small gasp at the sight.
Leseldh leaned towards Ivy, and she could feel the rush of his breath as he spoke.
“This dancing troupe has been highly anticipated.” His voice was tinged with excitement. His eyes remained fixed on the stage as he continued, “They are Fae from Cevoria, and they haven’t performed in Noctis since before the Portal was sealed.”
Ivy’s eyes widened in surprise. “Why has it been so long?”
“The Fae are notorious for holding a grudge.”
“600 years sure is a long time to hold a grudge.”
“It is nothing when you live for as long as the Fae do.”
Ivy’s mind drifted to the only other Fae she knew. Finare was 77 when he was Created, but he was still so youthful-looking—to think that they live much longer lives made her head spin. Leseldh’s next words ripped her from her musing.
“Malia longed to see them perform.” Leseldh’s voice held a longing that made her heart twist.
Ivy didn’t know how to respond. She returned her attention to the performance and was quickly enchanted by the ethereal grace of the Fae ballerinas.
She was truly spellbound when she observed wisps of colourful mist spilling from the fingers of the dancers.
They used their magic to lift each other higher in the air, to signify emotion, and to create atmospheric effects like rain, twinkling stars, and even a tree with blooming flowers.
It reminded Ivy of the ballet performance with the Shapeshifters, but this was impressive on a grander scale.
When the house lights rose and the intermission began, Ivy was lost for words. She glanced at Leseldh, who fixed her with his golden-eyed stare. She started to rise from her seat, but he reached over and placed a hand on her thigh to halt her.
“I have a surprise for you.” The excitement returned to Leseldh’s voice, and she looked at him warily. Leseldh’s surprises ranged from sweet to downright terrifying, and she wasn’t sure what to expect.
When a tall and slender female pushed through the curtain and stepped into their private box, Ivy’s eyes widened in surprise.
Ivy identified her as Fae even before she spotted her pointed ears poking through the auburn hair that fell to her waist. She moved gracefully, like she was swept into the space on a phantom wind.
Her eyes were pale blue flecked with gold, and they reminded Ivy of the sun setting over the ocean.
She wore a floor-length dress in midnight-blue, with long sleeves and a deep neckline that revealed the honey-gold skin of her chest and a hint of her cleavage. She was magnificent.
“Ivy, this is Acanthus.” Leseldh eyed the female hungrily.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Acanthus.” Ivy greeted her with reverence, and she couldn’t help but feel intimidated by the Fae’s presence.
She stood to greet the newcomer, and Acanthus bowed her head in reply.
Ivy found it awkward to be given such respect by a creature that was obviously centuries older than her.
“Which of you has requested me?” Ivy felt the vibration of Acanthus’s reedy voice in her chest, and she tried to conceal the shiver that ran through her at the sound.
Leseldh was inclining his head in Ivy’s direction. Acanthus advanced towards Ivy, which caused her to back away.
“Wait, what’s going on, Leseldh?” Ivy flicked her wide-eyed gaze between Leseldh and Acanthus.
“Acanthus is here for you to feed from.” Leseldh’s voice was still tinged with excitement.
Acanthus bristled at Leseldh’s words, and Ivy wondered whether she was a willing participant to this exchange. Leseldh rose from his seat and moved to the second row of the private box, his eyes fixed on Ivy.
“I’m not hungry, thank you.” Ivy crossed her arms over her chest. This seemed to be the wrong thing to say, as Acanthus’s head whipped in Ivy’s direction, her eyes narrowing to slits.
“Ivy, it is all taken care of. Please.” Leseldh’s tone brooked no argument, and Ivy resignedly lowered into her seat. Acanthus sat next to her with a ghostly grace.
“Would you like the throat or the wrist?” The offer of her throat made Ivy’s stomach roll. To feed from the neck of such a creature felt indescribably wrong.
“The wrist,” Ivy spoke firmly, and from the corner of her eye, she saw Leseldh tense.
Ignoring Leseldh’s reaction, she watched as Acanthus rolled up the sleeve of her dress to expose her wrist. Ivy scooped up her purse to withdraw a small case containing her supply of Lacuna. She popped one of the small white pills onto her tongue before accepting the Fae’s wrist.
She spared a glance at Leseldh and found his golden gaze was fixed firmly on her. She looked away before bringing Acanthus’s wrist to her mouth and piercing the skin with her fangs.
The rush of blood was immediate, and from the moment it touched her tongue, Ivy knew why Fae blood was so sought after.
Acanthus tasted like burnt sugar and her blood was incredibly potent compared to the Humans Ivy had fed from.
With the first mouthful, Ivy felt a rush of euphoria, and her hunger was forcefully unleashed; a beast that scratched at her insides and demanded satiation.
She closed her eyes and relished the delicate taste of the Fae’s blood as it filled and energised her.
All too soon, she felt Acanthus give a firm but polite tug, indicating she’d reached her limit.
Ivy shivered as she was forced to pull away, her eyes fluttering open and the setting of the theatre coming back into view.
Feeling overwhelmed with emotion, she leaned back in her seat and released a shuddering breath as she struggled to compose herself.
Acanthus ran a hand over the twin wounds that Ivy had given her, and soft tendrils of white light wrapped around the Fae’s wrist. Ivy noticed that when she withdrew her hand, the wound was gone. Without a word, Acanthus rose from her seat and made to leave the room.