Reaper of Ruin (Neverbound Academy #2)

Ivy

The tendrils of sleep unravel around me, yet they do nothing to hide the ache between my thighs. With the warm presence at my side, I’m reminded of my adventures from last night.

Teddy.

A smile ghosts across my lips, and I duck my chin, trying to hide it in the blanket of night.

I’m insane.

I’m addicted.

A shiver runs down my spine, but the desire lingering in my limbs turns to ice at the sound of feet shuffling behind me.

My instincts betray me and my eyes snap open as my neck twists toward the sound. The warped outline of a figure steps toward me, then vanishes as I am covered by a white cloth. Every ounce of fight evaporates with a single inhale as darkness claims me.

Pain shoots through my body as I replay a vortex of nightmares, each worse than the last, each sodden with despair and loneliness, a never-ending tunnel of harsh truths. My mind is plagued by visions of my hated mates screaming “reject” in my face. There’s no escaping it, no escaping them.

Taut and broken, I cry, tears spilling down my cheeks, staining my skin, until the touch of a palm against my face jerks me to the present.

Disoriented, I feel my heart racing wildly in my chest, eyes wide as I suck in sharp breaths, none of which offer the relief of oxygen in my lungs. Instead, my entire body focuses on the man before me.

Not just any man.

My father.

My chest tightens with the familiar tremor of fear as he peers down his nose at me with anger crinkling the corners of his eyes, disappointment etched into his features as he directs his disgust at me.

Certain I’m trapped in another nightmare, I blink profusely, trying to piece together what on earth is going on, but I’m quickly blessed with another slam of my father’s palm against my cheek. Pain radiates from his touch, confirming I’m not dreaming; I’m living this horror.

A strangled sob vibrates from my throat as I try to lift my hands defensively, but it’s impossible.

Daring to snap my gaze away from the Reginald Hayworth, I soak up every inch of my surroundings, trying to make sense of it.

Seeing around him is practically impossible; his frame fills most of my view.

But what I do manage to see is bleak, bare walls and a door to both my left and right.

His chest heaves as he remains slightly crouched in front of me, hands braced on his knees as he sneers.

Frowning, I notice the tailored suit covering his frame is the same one he wore to the academy ball.

Helpless, I turn my attention to myself. A screech rips from my lungs when my gaze lands on my bare legs, traveling over my exposed skin, across the apex of my thighs and bare chest.

I try to shield myself, but movement is still impossible, drawing my attention to the fastenings securing my arms and legs to the chair. Failed by my instincts once again, I look up to find my father’s face, watching me with a pleased, knowing grin spread across his lips.

“Are you present enough now, Ivy, or do you need another jolt?” His voice is thick and heavy, flooding my veins with dread as I shake my head.

“Where are my clothes?” I rasp, and he cackles, standing tall as his eyes narrow.

“Maybe if you weren’t such a whore, you would still be wearing them. Your lack of clothing is your own doing, Angel.”

“I—”

“Not that I care for your comfort, dear daughter,” he interjects, grabbing my chin with more force than necessary as he inches closer, sneering in my face. “But where you’re going, they won’t be needed anyway.”

My throat bobs as I try to swallow down the fear, but it’s impossible with the way he tightens his grip, digging his fingertips into my jaw.

Tears prick the backs of my eyelids as I scramble to get out of whatever mess this is, but as my father steps back and another figure appears beside him, my heart stills.

“Where am I?” I whisper as the figure stands beside my father.

A sliver of relief rushes through me as my father releases me with a shove, putting a step between us.

“Details don’t matter, Ivy. You do,” my father clarifies, and my heart lurches.

“What does that mean?”

The guy beside him grins as I take in his features. Piercing blue eyes are fixed on my bare skin as he rakes his fingers through his soft, brown hair that’s swept back off his face. His pinstripe navy suit is tailored to a higher standard than my father’s.

I don’t like the idea of that. Not when it’s clear he holds power of some kind.

My stomach churns as the stranger leans in close, dragging the tip of his finger from my exposed belly button, up between the valley between my breasts, before pressing at my chin, forcing my eyes to his. “Show me your wonders, Angel.”

His voice is laced with desire and an air of expectation.

“Who are you?” I dare to ask as my father slams his hand against his arm, knocking his touch from my skin, and I slump in my chair, trepidation waning as I stare in awe at my father, protecting me for once.

“Until the transfer is complete, don’t touch the goods.”

The millisecond of relief is gone, terror doubling down as I blink at my father, pulse ringing in my ears as I repeat his words over and over again.

The man in question leans back, straightening the lapels of his blazer as he assesses me. “You’re going to have to confirm her powers first, Reginald. Otherwise, there won’t be a transfer,” he warns, and my stomach twists in knots.

I shake my head. “I don’t have powers,” I whisper, panicked as his eyes narrow and my father chuckles.

“In good time, Angel. We just need to lure it to the surface,” my father alludes, and my heart clenches.

Twisted with fear, tears still spilling from my eyes, I try to reason with him. “Father, I don’t have powers yet. They haven’t appeared,” I say softly, my hands curling around the arms of the chair, containing the rage and despair clinging to me.

I hear the slam of my father’s fist at the same time he thrusts it against the side of my head, tearing a sob from my lips as pain vibrates through my limbs. My face pulses with pain as I slump to the side, helplessly bound and at their mercy as a snicker echoes around the room.

“Your attempts at beating her abilities out of her don’t seem to be working, Reginald.” The guy slips his hands in his pockets, tilting his head to the side as he rocks back on his heels.

I squeeze my eyes shut, blocking him from view as I try to quell the pain, but it’s lacing through my entire body, making it impossible to ignore.

“Don’t doubt me, Leonardo. I’ve dealt with one of these before, remember?”

My father’s words send a chill down my spine, prying my eyes open as I narrow my gaze on him.

It’s on the tip of my tongue to question what he’s referring to, but that would mean remaining here, naked and bound against my will, and I need to get out of his hold.

Instead, I try to plead with his paternal side.

“I’m sure whatever you want doesn’t require me like this. Untie me, and let me get dressed, then I’m sure we can figure out this misunderstanding.” My voice trembles despite my best effort, earning a cackle from my father’s friend as Reginald shakes his head.

“You’ll stay exactly where you are. If you don’t like the circumstances, help me help you and connect with your magic,” he retorts, confirming what I already knew: he doesn’t have a paternal side.

Liquid drips on my upper thigh, startling me as my gaze latches onto the crimson droplets running across my skin.

I’m bleeding.

At the hands of my father.

My nerve endings frazzle, reiterating the danger I’m in as my father’s friend sighs. He eliminates the distance between us, his hand coiling around my throat, capturing my breath as the chair tilts back, taking me with it.

“Give me what I want. Otherwise, I’ll start by ripping these from your damn hands.” His warning is matched with his free hand reaching for mine, his fingertips digging into my flesh as I scream.

Pain and panic consume me.

My father’s arm swings between us, attempting to interject, but it’s futile as the man’s touch grows more brutal.

“Release her, Leonardo. Once she’s yours, you can do as you please, but right now, she’s still mine, and you’ll do well to remember that,” my father threatens, and my heart aches as the situation becomes clearer.

Yet again, I’m at my father’s mercy, a bargaining chip in his life that holds value when I’m desired by others, offering him something in return that is worth more than me.

His daughter.

The man’s hand flexes, but to my surprise, he releases me; my throat and my breast. The chair slams against the floor as it returns to all four legs, and he strides off to the left, raking his hand through his hair.

I sag forward, draping my hair around me in an attempt to hide, but it’s impossible.

I’m the center of their attention; there’s no way to distract from that now.

My fingertips dig into the arms of the chair again as I force myself to tilt my head back and face my captors, only to be met with another slam of my father’s fist.

Every part of me is in pain.

Sobs rack my chest as helpless pleas fall from my tongue, but they go unheard as the mysterious man’s voice echoes around the room.

“Don’t bore me any further, Hayworth. Either show me what you think she can do, or I’m leaving.”

A bang from the right is jarring, the door rattling across the short distance, sending my heart rate soaring. A clenched fist pounds against the square glass. That’s all I can see, but my father must see more, and whatever it is makes him balk.

It’s a rare moment to see my father falter, but he doesn’t stutter for long, springing into action a second later. He darts toward me once more, but the frenzied look in his eyes cements me in place, fear lacing my veins as he flicks his blazer to the side and grabs a gun from his hip.

My world slows, my eyes alert and jittery as he moves with precision, bringing the firm metal against my forehead.

Looking past the barrel, I center my focus on my father, imprinting my final moments in my heart as I watch his wild eyes settle, a familiar glint softening the frown lines between his brows as he exhales.

There’s no time to recap my life, to let go of my regrets, or feel a single pang of pain at the end nearing.

I don’t hear the gunshot; you don’t when you’re the one it’s intended for.

Darkness envelops me once more, luring me away from the chaos, but as my heart stops and my breathing ceases, my mind remains rattled.

I startle when I find myself staring down at my lifeless body, the room moving in slow motion as the chair beneath my limbs creaks. My body looks crooked, my hair draped around my face, doing nothing to shield the open wound pouring blood down the front of me.

Is this the afterlife?

Confused, my attention is snapped to the side at the sound of glass shattering and wood splintering. Gaping in disbelief, I find not one, not two, not even three, but all four of my hated mates charging through the opening created.

Teddy leads the carnage, blood dripping down his arm as he races toward me. Baron, Sax, and Archer are a step behind him, despair thick in the air.

Eager to see my father, I startle when I don’t find him anywhere. He’s gone, his friend right along with him.

Overwhelmed, my gaze returns just in time to see Teddy fall to his knees beside me, hellbent on detaching me from the chair. It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him not to bother when heat consumes me.

It starts in my toes, ripping through my veins as it steals my every breath, forcing me to clench my eyelids shut as I succumb to the inferno. Flames dance on the back of my eyelids, curling and swirling in an array of oranges and reds.

All at once, it evaporates as tingles dance along my limbs, and I dare to pry my eyes open.

Floating a few inches off the ground, I’m no longer staring at my lifeless body.

I am my lifeless body.

“Ivy?” My name is nothing but a whisper from the blond guy before me, garnering my focus as my mind whirls and my heart…beats.

“What’s going on?” I dare to ask, my voice groggy and croaky as I try to rub the pain away.

“Your magic has revealed itself, Angel.” The hot, brown-haired, green-eyed guy states, and my lips part, confusion caught in my throat like cement.

Before I can piece together one of the thousand questions rattling around in my mind, the giant beside him, with his hair twisted into a mess on top of his head, speaks instead.

“You’re a phoenix.”

I nod, swaying as my vision turns blotchy and I succumb to the darkness.