Bitter Brambles (The Ivy Institute #2)

Chapter 10

MOROS

M y eyes spring open from a deep sleep. Every inch of me is fully awake, including my rock-hard cock. The ache is impossible to ignore. It’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced. I limped back to my room in the early hours of the morning, still discontent but searching for a familiarity that doesn’t exist here.

I lift my head from the pillow, fully expecting to find someone in my room that doesn’t belong, but the only thing I see is Jeh sleeping soundly in his own bed across the way. Confusion muddles my thoughts. I’m sure the lack of blood flow to my brain is the cause, considering it’s all in my dick.

I groan when I sit up because it almost hurts when my cock pushes against my pants. A quick glance at the window tells me the sun has long been up—not that I would be able to go back to sleep like this anyway. The need to get the hell out of this room is almost as strong as the ache in my groin.

The moment I open our door, my beast overtakes me. The shift would be impossible to deny, but I don’t even try. I recede deep within myself, far deeper than usual. A tremor of fear rattles my core. Is this what non-alpha shifters experience? Being shoved down so deep it feels like it would be impossible to claw my way out?

My wolf rips through the halls with a single-minded determination, and the only thing I can do is observe. He races past the tavern then skids to a halt so abruptly our nails dig into the stone floor, catching on an uneven patch.

Her scent hits me, and any uncertainty I felt is washed away. There’s a door open down the hall. I have no fucking clue where it leads, but I know without a doubt the moment I see who is beyond it, my life will never be the same.

Before I lose myself completely, I wrestle control back from my beast, forcing the shift on him in the same way he overwhelmed me only minutes ago. If he wasn’t entirely distracted by his mate being a few yards away, I don’t think it would have even been possible. His roar in my head as I turn in the opposite direction is enough to rattle my brain and probably cause some lasting damage to our bond.

I can’t even explain why I need to escape, only that I’m not ready to let her see me, not here and now when I’m barely holding onto my beast.

The second I step away from her, I know I made a mistake, but before I can do anything about it, the door to the tavern opens, and I’m forced to live with my choice for the time being or risk meeting my mate for the first time with an audience I’d want to kill.

Every step away from her is like a knife to my chest. I have never felt so weak in my entire life. The fact that my beast is amplifying every emotion and confirming my feelings only makes it worse.

I hide behind the first door I find, which happens to be a bathing room. The steam coming off the small pool clouds the air but does nothing to conceal the fucked up shit in my head. I can’t believe I walked away from her. I can’t believe she even exists in the first place. My father never found his mate, so I never expected to find mine either—never even imagined I deserved one.

When what I’ve done actually sinks in, I shove out of the bathroom even faster than I ducked inside, scanning the hall for her, but she’s nowhere in sight. I loosen the reins on my beast, allowing him to track her. His indignant rage, pointed squarely at me, gives me a glimpse of how badly I fucked up. What if she sensed me the same way I sensed her and knows I left her? Fear pushes me to move faster than I’ve ever moved in my human form. I’m not sure if my wolf knew what was happening all along or not, but now that he was close enough to scent her, it will be nearly impossible for her to hide from us.

I slip into the fighting field without notice, and my eyes are immediately drawn to the slight female figure in the middle of a group of nesters. Her hair is nearly black, except for some lighter pieces near her face, and the dark curtain hangs down to her tiny waist. I’m too far away to make out her features, but it doesn’t matter, because to me, she’ll be the most beautiful female I’ll ever see.

I edge closer, watching as her full lips pull down into a soft frown as she faces off with a tutor. Her tawny eyes flash with annoyance. The blatant show of defiance has a conflicting effect on me—my beast loves the fact that she doesn’t cower, but I can’t help but be concerned for her. She’s tiny, almost frail looking. Even with the knowledge that looks can be deceiving, my instinct is to protect her.

With all the attention on the center of the room, it’s easy enough to slip closer as a tutor instructs her and another female to square off. The urge to put myself between them is only intensified as my beast begins to recognize the threat. To him, there is nothing more important than protecting our mate.

A stone flies through the air, and my stomach clenches so tightly I want to hurl. Just before it hits my mate, she flicks her hand, and the rock is averted from its path, sailing away, only to be redirected toward her. This time when it navigates away, it falls uselessly to the sand. The next thirty seconds are spent with me holding my breath as objects are hurled in her direction, and I feel an unearned sense of pride when none of them hit their mark. My mate is powerful.

The tutor calls another trainee over to test her. This time, it’s a much larger male. I move closer, making sure I’m near enough to kill him if he actually poses a threat. Without much chatter, he sends a stream of ice at her. I’m just about to reach up and snap his neck when the ice melts into a useless puddle at her feet without ever coming close to striking her.

Appreciation for her ability momentarily enthralls me, giving the male a chance to attack again without warning. This time when he sends a jet of ice toward her, her fiery eyes darken as the blackness of her pupils bleeds to cover any trace of color, turning her orbs into twin abysses.

Belatedly, I recognize the torrent of ice melted again before reaching her. There’s a charge in the air, making the hair on my arms stand on end. Something is very different. Everyone can feel it, even if we can’t see exactly what it is.

“Don’t,” she warns with an icy hiss. My beast nearly purrs at her display of dominance. I back away from the tutor and the male, confident my mate can take care of herself for the time being, though my eyes never leave her for long, not even hours later when we’re all still on the field, trying to pretend her arrival hasn’t just tilted Frostburn off its axis.

Trailing her from the practice ring is easy in my shifted form. She’s either let her guard down or isn’t concerned for her safety, which would be foolish, or maybe I’m the one who’s being foolish and she’s luring me into a trap.

I watch as she twists and turns through abandoned halls as if she knows exactly where she’s going until, eventually, she halts near a windowed corner. My beast surprises me when he stalls for a brief moment, as if he’s also steeling himself for what’s to come, or maybe he’s savoring it.

We watch as she tips her head back and exhales. I don’t know her, but I know the gesture. She’s tired, and I can understand why. Every tutor and trainee on the field scrutinized her for hours, examining her for missteps or a show of weakness. I didn’t observe any, but she was smart and kept mostly to herself besides a few words exchanged with the first girl she was pitted against. There were no more heavy displays of power or challenges made. In fact, it seemed like no one was willing to get too close to her while I had to fight the urge.

I pad out of the shadows, and her little gasp of surprise tells me she was unaware that we were following her. Concern spikes through me and my beast. Strength isn’t enough to survive in this world.

It only takes a heartbeat for the shock of my arrival to wear off. Her eyelids lower in what seems like dismissal. “Come to rip out my throat?” Her soft voice cuts through us as cleanly as a knife. “I doubt I’ll even taste very good. I’m too scrawny.”

The mention of her taste ignites a fire within me. Just the thought is enough to have me salivating. She smells divine, a little tart but sweet, like something I would steal from the kitchen of my father’s harem.

“You’re the reason I keep thinking they are around.” Her tone is flat, and she almost sounds sad, yet I have no clue whom she’s referring to. I move closer, drawn by her allure. If this is a trap, I’m a willing sacrifice.

“I have a favor to ask. I know it’s crazy to think you would even entertain it, but… if you’re going to kill me, will you do it quickly? I hate pain, and I feel like it isn’t that much to ask considering. You know?”

Kill her? Her words confuse me and my beast. We drop to a sitting position.

“So you’re not going to snap my neck right now?” She doesn’t recognize me as her mate. Something akin to rejection pierces my soul. It’s too complicated of an emotion for my wolf, but he still understands something isn’t as it should be. I think about shifting, but she seems skittish. It’s hard to connect this female with the powerful one I witnessed on the field earlier.

Her eyes trace over us, and the feeling of dismissal wanes, making us both want to preen under her assessment. “Hey, if you aren’t sold on the idea of eating me, we could be friends.”

It takes me a moment to actually absorb her words, because my beast paints a picture of me with my head between her legs, and it distracts me. She wants to be friends? I think I’m offended. She rambles on about food then mentions me bunking with her in the nest. I sink to the floor—offended or not, my wolf just wants to hear her talk to us. Her voice is low and raspy, and hearing it is like being stroked from the inside, as if she’s touching some place deep within me that no one else ever could.

“My name is Briar. I wish you could tell me your name.” She searches my face with a sweet innocence that shouldn’t even be possible, especially since she thought I was here to eat her just a few moments ago. “I’m going to call you Sunny. You are the first glimpse of warmth I’ve found in this icy hell, and your eyes… I mean, it’s perfect.” Her full lips curve into a devious little smile, as if she knows I would abhor being called Sunny by anyone but her. She could call me a mutt, and I would come running.

I inch closer, lying my head on her thigh. She lets out the softest little sigh then slides her fingers into my fur, proclaiming, “I’m going to keep you.”