Bitter Brambles (The Ivy Institute #2)

Chapter 18

MOROS

B riar is uncharacteristically somber when I trace the rune I had to learn to open the scrying mirror in reverse on the glass. The image of the other room and the other males is replaced with a normal reflection the moment I lift my finger. I’ve heard of such relics, but I’d never used something of the sort myself. The pack prefers to communicate in person, but I see the necessity in this situation, where being face-to-face isn’t possible.

Briar exhales a shuddering breath when the connection closes. I’d been nervous about the meeting, worried about seeing her interact with her other mates, and selfishly concerned something between us would change after she spoke to them, but I think seeing her so closed off and uneasy while communicating with them was probably harder than if she’d been elated to see them again for the first time. Her pain was and still is evident in her features.

I lean back against the wall behind the bed and pull her with me. She melts into my embrace, but I can’t help feeling troubled by the encounter. I would have thought her less than overwhelming response to them would give me a measure of reassurance, but the only thing it did is make me miserable for her. I won’t lie and say hearing her tell me she is staying here until after the Undertaking wasn’t huge, because it was. My stomach did some weird fluttering shit I think people call butterflies, and my heart even started beating faster, but the truth is, it might be better if Briar wasn’t here. Frostburn isn’t safe. Ninety-five percent of the trainees sent to the games don’t return, and it’s not because they escaped—it’s because they died in the games.

In theory, the best place for her would be at Ashcroft Manor with me, where I know I could keep her safe, but that’s not an option, so maybe returning to the Ivy would be best. My thoughts start to spiral when I examine the idea closer, because then I’m forced to remember Ziv and Kage allowed her to be brought here in the first place, so I’m not sure I could trust them to keep her safe when or if there’s a next time.

I kiss the side of her head, no closer to figuring out what we should do after the meeting. If anything, I’m more unsure. I assumed they would have answers, or at the very least, a plan, but they are stumbling around just as much as we are, maybe more. One thing is certain though—both of those males care a great deal for her. I could never have imagined a god, even a fallen one, kneeling for anyone, and he did that for Briar. His strange swirling eyes ate up every bit of her he could see, all while Briar was… distant, to say the least. It forced me to think about being in his shoes and vow to myself that I would do anything in my power to make sure that never happens.

“Are you okay?” I sever the silence hanging in the room like a physical wall.

“I’m fine,” she answers too quickly.

“Briar.” There’s a slight rebuke in my tone as I tuck her even closer to my body. If I could, I would surround her completely.

“What? I am fine. Was it weird seeing them after all this time and not knowing what to think? Yes. I’ve never seen Ziv look so….”

“Sad?” I offer when she can’t seem to come up with the right word.

“Powerless,” she amends. “It threw me off seeing him like that, and Kage was odd as well. He barely tolerated me when I was there, but it almost seemed like he cared. I just don’t know what to think about any of it.”

“He does care, princess. I can promise you that. I’m not going to pretend I know him or defend him, but I will tell you I would have gone out of my mind if I couldn’t touch you. To have you so close yet so far would kill me. I bet he just let you get a glimpse of what is really going on in his head.”

She’s quiet for so long I start to worry I said something that made it worse, until she eventually concedes, “Maybe,” in a voice so soft I probably wouldn’t have heard her if I wasn’t listening intently for something.

“As for the fallen, I think powerless is a pretty apt description considering, and I doubt it’s something he’s had to deal with very often himself.”

“Maybe,” she repeats. I don’t really think my attempt at comforting her is doing as much as I hoped. I contemplate asking if hearing his reason for leaving her here and knowing it wasn’t because he didn’t care made her feel any different about the past several months, but I quickly decide not to. It’s not my place to ask her to examine his motives and how they make her feel. She can do that on her own, and I’m certain she already is.

“I didn’t know what to expect or if it would even work. Part of me feels like it wasn’t even real, you know?” she confesses.

I squeeze her a little tighter for a few seconds, reminding her I’m here with her and very real, but I agree with the sentiment. “I’ve never used a scrying mirror before. I think it would have felt more real if you could have heard their voices instead of having to read what they could write down quickly.”

“Maybe. I’m not sure I would have believed it was even them writing on the stone if I didn’t see them doing it.” She ends the thought with, “It might just take me a minute to wrap my head around it all,” as if she needs an excuse for why she’s still apprehensive.

“Take whatever time or anything else you need. They said they would leave the connection open on their side, which means you control when or if you see them,” I remind her. Briar turns to her side a little and nods against my chest, nuzzling closer. I take a moment to send a grateful prayer to whatever god is listening that she’s here with me and I can hold her in my arms.

brIAR

I’ve avoided the mirror for the past three days. At first, I tried not to look at that side of the room, as if I might find Ziv or Kage peering back at me. Eventually, I asked Sunny to turn it around so there would be no chance of me seeing their reflection or my own. I thought a little time would give me perspective or allow the hurt I still feel to soften, but clarity and understanding haven’t found me as of yet.

For his part, Sunny has been extremely patient. Not once has he asked me when or if I plan to open the connection again, and it makes me appreciate him even more, but guilt has started to set in. I’m letting my emotions cloud my actions—or inaction, as it were. I know I can’t continue to ignore the mirror or Ziv. It’s strange to think I have to work myself up to do something when I silently pleaded he would get in touch with me for so long, but that’s what I’m doing now. I asked Sunny for some alone time, and in an effort to be transparent, I told him I was thinking about opening the mirror. There was a tiny part of me that wanted him to ask to stay, but he just gave me a lingering kiss then left the room, reminding me to lock the door after him.

After doing as he asked, I slowly approach the mirror. Now that I’m certain I’m actually going to do it, I start to worry I waited too long, and they will no longer be there. Considering Kage wanted to speak the next day, it’s a very real possibility all of this worry may be for naught.

My hands tremble when I reach for the frame, and I end up knocking it to the side, nearly making it fall, but thankfully my reflexes kick in, and I steady it before it hits the floor. With my heart in my throat, I turn the mirror over and stare at myself. My eyes are too wide, and my cheeks are too pale. I look like a wraith.

Before I can chicken out, I sit on the bed and scoot all the way back so I can lean against the wall and use the cot as a cushion for the frame. I’ve been practicing tracing the rune in the air ever since we burned the paper Starla gave Moros with instructions on using the scrying mirror. I don’t know how Ziv got the items to her. It didn’t seem important at the time, but it’s often been on my mind since. If it was that easy to relay a message and a package, then why hadn’t he done it sooner?

I feel nothing when I touch the tip of my finger to the glass—not that I expected to. I honestly wasn’t even sure I could activate it in the first place, but Sunny was convinced I could, so here I am.

My image is immediately replaced with a view of Ziv’s room. I would know the oversized settee anywhere. It takes my mind a few minutes to put together why it looks so different yet familiar, but when I do, a stark picture is painted. I can only imagine what caused all the damage to the walls, and why the window seems to be boarded over.

The shock of seeing the cushions strewn about hasn’t worn off when Ziv slips into the frame. His light hair is a mess, sticking up at all angles as if he had his hands in it. It makes me think about all the times I ran my fingers through his hair and everywhere else.

“Briar.” It’s easy enough to read his lips. Something in my chest aches at not being able to hear him say my name.

I look around uselessly, only now realizing in my haste to open the link that I forgot all about the tablet. I hold up a finger in a bid to get him to wait while I climb off the bed and shove my hand under the mattress to find the stone tablet and quill Sunny hid after our first meeting.

Ziv has the mirror right in front of his face by the time I make it back to my spot. It makes me wonder if the room was like this last time and I just couldn’t see it because he and Kage filled the entire frame.

Are you well?

I find his words already etched on the stone. A shot of remorse goes through me when I allow myself to take in his wary expression. In this moment, I realize a part of me was punishing him for not communicating with me sooner.

I’m safe. Are you okay?

He waves a dismissive hand, disregarding my concern, but he doesn’t go for the tablet again. Instead, he just stares at me as if he thinks I’m going to disappear at any moment or like he’s expecting me to say something to him. The problem is, I don’t know how to bridge this gap between us, and that thought makes me terribly sad.

What happened to your room?

Me.

He doesn’t hesitate to take responsibility.

Tell me what it’s like there.

Cold all the time. I’m not sure how I managed to keep my fingers and toes from falling off, especially when I first got here.

Ziv flinches, and I feel bad for complaining, even though that wasn’t really my intent.

But they didn’t.

Since there’s no question mark, I’m assuming he’s making a statement. It feels like a subtle reminder that things aren’t as bad as I make them seem, but in this case, it was worse. I don’t know how I survived those first days in the cell. It’s hard to even recall much of it now because it all feels like a blur. I think my mind blocked most of it out, but I do remember how hungry I was, and I will never forget the cold.

Instead of answering on the tablet, I lift my right hand and wiggle my fingers, proving him right. While I may have all my fingers and toes, it doesn’t change the fact that I wasn’t sure I would.

What about the wolf? Is he taking care of you? Where is he now?

I asked him to give me some time alone.

Are you sure that’s safe?

I can take care of myself.

The slight widening of Ziv’s eyes says my statement surprised him. I doubt he believes me. Most days I don’t even believe me, but no one else here seems to doubt my ability, especially Sunny. It’s surreal to realize that coming to Frostburn gave me the one thing I always thought I wanted—power.

There’s something I need to tell you.

I look up to meet his swirling eyes and find him already staring at me as if he anticipated what was coming. Gods, this would be so much easier if I could just speak to him. Thinking about what I’m going to write causes too much pressure. Maybe this should wait until… I don’t know when, because there’s really no guarantee I will ever see him in person again.

Panic tries to set in when I allow myself to think about how much time I wasted avoiding him and Kage, knowing this could be the last time I ever lay eyes on him.

Ziv shifts forward as if to get closer. He even lifts his arm like he’s going to reach for me, but his hand falls limply on his lap. “What’s wrong?” I have no problem reading his mouthed words. I wish it was all that easy. I point to my lips then ear.

This would be so much easier if I could talk to you. I can’t organize my thoughts like this.

Ziv rakes his teeth over his bottom lip before picking up the writing implement for the tablet.