Bitter Brambles (The Ivy Institute #2)

Chapter 13

ZIV

T he door bounces off the wall, and I finger the flask cradled against my chest.

“She’s dying!” Kage exclaims. His eyes are glowing purple and are as wild as the paradise fields.

“She’s not,” I deny flatly, though I understand why he would think so. I could have mistaken her pain for her death myself if I didn’t know any better.

“I can feel it!” His feet carry him closer. and a new idea strikes, one much more beneficial than drinking from the flask in my hand.

“So can I, and she is not dying.” I’ve never sounded more like a god than I do in this moment, hard and unfeeling.

“What else could hurt this badly?” He grips the back of a chair to keep himself upright, his breathing labored as he feels only a portion of what Briar is experiencing.

“The realization that I’m not coming for her.” The moment I utter the words, I want to erase them from existence and deny there could be any truth to them, but I can’t.

“What?” he seethes, lifting his head to give me a glare.

“You heard me. She finally realized she’s alone—again.” Damn, I want this pain to cease, but I’m afraid if I drink what’s in the flask, the pain will remain, and I will just forget what caused it.

I allow my gaze to wander over to Kage. He is a much better solution to my problem. “You have to get word to her that she isn’t alone and that we will come for her when we know it’s safe,” he insists.

I can’t do what he wants because it would put her in more danger. I learned who facilitated Briar’s departure and know this is entirely my fault, as I suspected from the beginning. If I step foot out of the Ivy and they think for one moment I’m going to her, then they will either sever our bond or kill her. I can’t live with that knowledge for the rest of eternity. “No,” is my reply.

“No?” he scoffs, his anger pushing him to release the chair that seemed to be holding him up only seconds ago.

“That’s right, shadow. I said no.”

His eyes narrow, and my heart rate picks up. I want him to touch me so badly I can actually taste death’s sweet oblivion on my tongue. A breath passes, and he sneers down his nose at me. “You selfish motherfucker.”

Clarity hits us both at the same time. My window for death is closing. He knows I was hoping he would be the means to which I met my end. I spring from my chair and reach for the death demon’s face, the only part of him not covered, but he is quicker, dissolving into intangible smoke before my eyes. I let out a bellow that rattles the walls and breaks every piece of glass in sight, including the windows. A cool breeze whips at my face, and I want to curse the air for still moving. I hate every fucking thing on this planet, but nothing more than I hate myself.

You think I would let you off so fucking easily and what, just let Briar die because you’re weak? You can’t quit like you have with everything else because it’s hard. Get your shit together, fallen, or I will find a way to torture you for the rest of eternity. You think what those gods will do to you is bad? Just wait. You pull this shit again, and you will wish it was only them you’ll have to deal with.

His shadow moves so quickly, it almost looks like he was sucked backward from the room, and there’s nothing I can do to stop him. I slam my fist down on the table, and it cracks in half, allowing me to see the flask I must have dropped on the floor in my haste to reach Kage. The cork is off, and there’s a wet circle surrounding the container.

A yell of pure anguish tears from my mouth as I realize the sacred liquid of the river Lethe is wasted. My only chance at forgetting her is gone.

brIAR

Over the next few weeks, we fall into a routine as we prepare for the approaching selection for the Undertaking. In the morning, Sunny takes me to the elites’ gym, where I push my body past the point of pain to strengthen what little muscle I didn’t lose while I was starving in the cell and try to build more. He’s not a taskmaster like Ziv, nor does he spar with me, but he’s present every step of the way, encouraging me and tearing down my walls.

I wanted to hate him so badly after the first day in his room, but he made it impossible—not to mention my treacherous body wanted him no matter what my heart felt.

After the gym, we shower, sometimes together. When my arms are too sore to lift, he’ll wash every inch of me as if I’m made of glass. Never once has he asked for more. There are never any lingering touches, but he can’t hide the need in his gaze, which I’m glad for. At first, I was too detached, too disconnected from my body to give him more of myself. I probably wouldn’t have stopped him from having sex with me, but I wouldn’t have been there. I was too checked out. Now, those looks and heated stares let me see how much he still wants me, even when he pretends what we have now is enough.

We take our turn in the tavern with the other elites. I’ve barely spoken to any of them, but I don’t do much talking with anyone other than Sunny. They have accepted that I’m one of them—I don’t think Moros would have given them a choice anyhow—but they haven’t accepted me.

I’m even starting to discern the differences between the gruel that’s served. It still tastes like garbage, but it fills the void within me a little.

The only time Sunny isn’t by my side is when we head to the fields after. He’s never far away, but I still have to deal with Mick daily, so he gives us some space. The tutor still doesn’t trust me, but I’m used to that.

The first time Mick saw me enter the arena with Sunny and a heavy fur cloak over my shoulders, he let me see the suspicion in his gaze. I don’t blame him. It’s strange that I’m once again connected to the most powerful being in an institute. The gods have a sick sense of humor.

Mick didn’t have to ask what I was doing chumming it up with Moros. Anyone within a hundred foot radius would know. His scent surrounds me at all times and paints the picture pretty clearly. Most of the tutor’s threats and innuendos stopped then, and for that, I am eternally grateful. I didn’t even have to deal with Hawk trying to challenge me again. It’s like I’ve become untouchable, much like I had at the Ivy—I just didn’t understand it quite the same back then.

Some days Mick just wants to watch me, and others, he tests me against the trainees. I wasn’t prepared when I started craving the challenges. Much to my astonishment, things have changed for me. After a shit ton of trial and error, I found I do have some capacity to siphon powers, but it’s completely erratic and unreliable. The only thing that seems to set off my ability for sure is anger. Deep-seated rage tinged with indignant fury always does the trick, but those emotions aren’t always easy to come by. Usually, it takes a lot of pushing before I can tap into the ability, and even then, it’s like holding on to smoke. The moment my mind realizes what I am doing, it rejects the thought, and everything ceases.

Mick doesn’t care that my progress is slow. In his eyes, every tiny milestone is groundbreaking. In the early days, I hated myself for how long I allowed myself to be a victim. At night, when we would finally go back to the room, I would lie awake for hours, wondering how things could have been different if I wasn’t always so weak.

Would Ziv have given me up so easily if he’d known I could survive the Undertaking? Would Kage have believed I was strong enough to withstand his touch and maybe then he would have fought for me too?

Even while Sunny sleeps next to me, as patient as a saint and never expecting anything while giving so much in return, I still think of them, and it makes me hate myself even more.

After two full months, my feelings begin to change, or that’s when I acknowledge the transformation. Sunny has taken up residence in my head and my heart. I can’t keep him at arm’s length anymore no matter how hard I try.

Understanding hits when we are in bed. He pushed the two cots together after Jeh had been kicked out, but there was really no need. Sunny is always curled around me or I him. When I turn over to look at him, I realize I love him and what a fool I’ve been not to show him sooner.

If he were awake, then I would kiss him, and not just the chaste peck he sometimes gives me. I would really kiss him the way I’ve been dreaming about for weeks, but I am still a chicken after all and can’t bring myself to wake him. Some part of me still believes he will leave me soon, and I don’t think I could bear losing him if I give him my heart and body, but the truth is, he already has both.

In this moment, I decide I won’t waste another full day without letting him know how I feel. The moment he opens his eyes, I am going to tell him that I want to be his no matter the cost to my heart. I want him for as long as he will have me.