7. Ivy #2
“I watched you die, Ivy, we all did. To watch you rise from those ashes is a gift from The Fates, a blessing none of us will ever be able to repay, but it slices just as deep when you run like this.”
I scoff, my emotions getting the better of me. “That’s the difference in our pain, Archer. You caused mine, all four of you, and—”
“You seemed to forgive Teddy,” he interjects, cocking a brow at me, and I exhale slowly, scrambling to remain as calm as possible, but it’s not easy to hide my vulnerabilities.
“That was an error on my part. Especially when he didn’t intervene at the medical center and let me know I shouldn’t be climbing into bed with spineless Fire Protectors,” I grumble.
“But that’s beside the point. The fact of the matter is, you caused my pain, and someone else killing me caused yours.
This here, now, the distance, is still the consequence of your actions.
I won’t feel guilty for that, nor will I take the blame for someone else pulling the trigger. ”
His throat bobs as he stares at me, his eyes darting between mine, searching for what? I’m not sure, but I don’t care to find out.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me. I’m exhausted, and I need to lie down. Not that it’s any of your business,” I grumble, and to my surprise, he moves to the side.
I take my opportunity and bolt to my room as fast as I can, which isn’t fast at all. I feel breathless by the time I flop against the door, appreciating the separation between us.
My eyelids fall closed as I attempt to catch my breath, and when I pry them open again, a sense of dread washes over me.
The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, freezing me in place as I glance around my room, noting every shadow that cascades across the space, until my eyes catch on the bed.
I left in a hurry when Baron arrived, the sheets all crumpled and disheveled as I slipped on a pair of shoes and a cardigan. Now, it sits neatly folded.
Ember, maybe? But she doesn’t usually touch it.
I part my lips to ask her, only to realize she didn’t follow me in here.
Rolling my lips, I push off the door, my hands clenching at my sides as worry gets the better of me. Stopping at the side of my bed, my eyes are glued to the new addition on my sheets.
A small bunch of red berries is framed by the familiar evergreens of ivy, placed over an envelope with blue ink scrawled across the center.
Ivy
Glancing over my shoulder, I half expect someone to jump out at me, but I’m most definitely alone.
Who would put this here, and more importantly, what am I supposed to do with it?
Ember wouldn’t leave a note, and I would assume she would tell me if she saw it, but none of that explains why it’s here. My mind fixates on the when and how instead of reaching for the note for what feels like an eternity.
I finally exhale slowly before reaching for the envelope.
A blue seal holds the envelope closed, but it peels with ease as I find a small piece of paper inside. Trepidation floods my veins as my fingers tremble.
Ivy,
Watching your father’s certainty flourish before my very eyes is a sight to behold.
You are a sight to behold.
Don’t worry, my Evergreen, times are changing.
You will be the catalyst to my plans and the center of my desires.
We shall meet again.
-L
Confused, I read the text three times before the paper slips from my hand and fear takes over.
They speak of my father, the man who murdered me, seemingly for his own gain, while my mother is nowhere to be found to console or nurture me.
Nothing makes sense, and this piece of shit only makes it even more insane.
I shudder, banding my arms around my middle as panic takes over. I have to tell someone. I have to swallow my vulnerabilities and find the strength to ask for help.
Archer.
I grimace at the thought, but he won’t let harm come to me. He enjoys it being at his hands far too much to allow someone else to do it, that much is clear.
Reaching for the slip of paper and the bundle of ivy, I yelp when I catch a prickly thorn, and a droplet of blood forms on my fingertip. Hissing, I press my finger against my tongue as I leave the ivy and take only the letter.
Fear tears at me, and I can’t figure out if it’s from the fact that someone’s been in my space, or the fact that I’m about to bring my troubles to Archer, but it spurs me out of the door regardless.
Blindly rushing out into the hallway, I barrel into a hard chest, earning a grunt as I fall backward. Bracing for impact, it takes a moment for me to realize it doesn’t come, so I pry my eyes open and find myself staring up into wide eyes.
My stomach knots as he smiles down at me, soft and gentle, and I manage to curl the corner of my mouth too.
“Fireball,” he mumbles.
“Silas.”
Slowly, he lifts me to my feet, planting his hands on my shoulders as he assesses me. “What has you leaving in such a hurry?” he asks, his eyebrows gathering slightly, and I shake my head, grasping the note in my hand even tighter.
I blink up at him, unsure how to answer.
A part of me wants to lean into him, use him as my pillar of support instead of Archer, but the other is too scared to add anyone else to the mix.
Torn, I shake my head, stuffing the note in my back pocket as I muster a better smile on my lips. “Nothing.”
“Are you sure?” His brows furrow deeper as he looks past me into my room, but I quickly reach for the handle and shut the door behind me.
“I’m fine. Sorry for running into you,” I breathe, and he grins.
“I’m glad you did. I’ve missed you the past few days, but I heard through the grapevine that your absence might have something to do with your magic coming to fruition.” He beams down at me, and I feel like I’m suffocating.
Does he know what I am?
I’m not ready for that.
But I do need to go through the usual procedures of acknowledging my magic within the system, I guess. Just like everyone else.
It makes my stomach twist, and nausea burns in my throat as he stares at me expectantly.
My lips part as my mind swirls, but before a single word leaves my mouth, another voice fills the air.
“Take your motherfucking hands off her, Silas, before I decide to slice them off instead.”
Archer.
Silas smirks as he spins around, his spine stiffening as he faces off with one of my hated mates, and I take the opportunity to reach for my door handle again.
“She isn’t yours, Archer, and I’ll do what I please. If it’s what Ivy desires, then my hands will be where she wants them. Anywhere, if you catch my drift,” he goads, and a flash of irritation heightens inside of me.
I already have too much on my plate to deal with their pissing contest, too. The burning from the note in my pocket is a perfect example.
Archer takes a step toward him, promise in his eyes that he’s ready to follow through on his threat, and before I can even convince myself otherwise, I interrupt.
“Archer, I need you.”
My veins turn to ice at the vulnerability in my voice, but the way both men spin to me immediately distracts them enough to stop whatever the hell this is.
“What’s wrong?”
They speak in sync, and I grimace.
I can’t find my tongue as I twist my door handle and take a step inside, keeping my eyes locked on Archer the whole time. He blinks at me, confusion dancing in his eyes as he searches for an immediate threat, but he’s not moving fast enough.
“I need you.” My words are barely more than a whisper as they float through the air, solidified by the slight tremble to my limbs.
Just like that, at three words, I have his entire attention.