Bitter Brambles (The Ivy Institute #2)

Chapter 23

ZIV

A s I lower myself into the chair, I catch sight of the blood speckling my knuckles. Bathing in the fluid wouldn’t be enough to ease my fury, not when the focus of my wrath is looking at me from across the table.

I remind myself time is no longer infinite. Soon, she will feel my rage. As a god, I had nothing but time. Ages could pass, and I would barely notice. There was no sense of urgency, not even to finish a battle. Wars were waged without end, and that was enough, even if there was a hundred year break in fighting.

When battle grew tedious, there was no lack of entertainment to distract me, because that was what everything was—a distraction.

With no expiration date on anything, I began to lose the desire for everything.

Falling wasn’t the result of a single instance, but rather eons of monotony, and it took one moment to recognize there was no point in continuing on with the same existence. I longed for something I could never have—change.

I’d become stagnant, or rather I’d always been and finally realized it. Ryujin and I were moments away from rekindling yet another battle over something so inane, I can’t even recall what it was about, but reputations, rankings for power positions, and possessions were often the catalyst for our brawls.

As I picked up my axe to begin another cycle of war, I saw myself doing it at least a hundred other times. Some had already happened, while others seemed to be forewarnings of the future to come, and I just stopped, finding I had no desire to repeat the same encounters over and over again.

Chaos, who was already thriving on the prospect of turmoil, wanted nothing more than to reawaken our feud for a few centuries. He thrived on the mayhem, while I relished the battle. We were brothers in that.

When I dropped my axe and refused to fight, he was indignant. I think my refusal to engage and my reasoning awakened something in him just as the foreshadowing of my future did for me, but the feeling of inertness wasn’t new to me. I could no longer ignore the need for change now that I recognized what it was, so I renounced my godhood, relinquished my divinity, and fell.

He vowed to make me regret my choice, and all this time, I assumed he had made good on his threat and took Briar from me without taking into consideration that gods don’t work on timelines. It could be another era before he even remembered our conflict existed or deemed it worthy of his effort, and unlike a god, I can admit when I’m wrong.

Syrinx is the reason Briar is gone and her life is in jeopardy, but it’s still my fault. The banshee craves power much in the same way I longed for combat and Chaos needs anarchy. Her mistake was thinking she could use me to get it.

Not killing the banshee after Kage told me what he overheard was a test of wills I wasn’t sure I would win, but getting rid of her now, without knowing the full breadth of her plan, would be foolish. Syrinx wanted Briar dead and wanted someone else to do the dirty work for her, so she sent her to a place where no one knew she was mine and didn’t know what would happen to them if they hurt her, all while I sat on my fucking hands and played right into hers.

I tamp down the surge of anger inside me as I look into her hawkish features. Syrinx thinks she’s a master manipulator and that I’m still playing her game, because that’s exactly what I want.

I’m going to watch her slow self-destruction and witness her loss of power while making sure she knows she is the only one to blame for her downfall as she makes mistake after mistake. When she’s been cast to the side, exposed as the worthless creature she is, then I will kill her and make sure anything she ever cared about dies with her.

“Thank you for seeing me, Ziv.” Her tone is dulcet, coaxing. If I wasn’t privy to every aspect of her power, I might not even realize she’s trying to coerce me into a calmed state. It bothers me that she thinks she could control me, but that’s an easy offense to ignore.

I don’t acknowledge her greeting in any way, but she continues, unfazed by my apathy. “As you know, the selection is near, and I need to know I can rely on you as my second during the games. When I accepted your residency at the Ivy, you pledged your allegiance to me?—”

“To the Ivy,” I correct.

Syrinx’s eyebrows lift as if to question the distinction between the two. “Yes, well, I’m sure it won’t come as a surprise to you that I need to be certain I can trust you and that oath considering the situation you’ve found yourself in.”

A brisk knock on the door draws her attention, giving me a brief reprieve to school my features so she won’t see my murderous gaze. The situation I found myself in was entirely her making. She is the reason my mate isn’t with me and, more importantly, is in danger. Her single-minded obsession makes her blind to the truth, that there is no oath or vow that is more important than my mate, but before I’m done with her, she will. I look over my shoulder, pretending I don’t know exactly what the current interruption is about.

Before the headmaster has a chance to respond to the disruption, the door swings open, and her assistant stumbles through the door. Her black eyes are wide, and the stiff set of her shoulders does a good job of displaying just how distressed she is. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but there’s been an…” She glances at me, then back at Syrinx. “An accident.”

I wouldn’t classify what happened as an accident, but maybe the vampire hasn’t ever seen what can happen to a body when it explodes from the inside out after a swift pressure shift. I wonder if his eyes are still dripping from the wall.

“An accident?” Syrinx grates out, clearly bothered by the disturbance. After all, she did just ask me a very important question that I haven’t gotten around to answering yet.

“Mistress—” The vampire shakes her head slowly and swallows with some reluctance. “I… I think this situation needs your attention.”

“Another incident, Syrinx? It seems those are happening too often around here.” I let wariness and censure color my tone as I rise from the chair. Making her doubt herself is one of the steps in her ruin, and I just planted the first seed.

Her eyes follow mine until she’s staring up at me. I enjoy the moment she takes note of our positions and hastily gets to her feet in an attempt to make sure I’m not looking down at her. The effort is wasted. She will always be beneath me, and we both know it.

“It seems you have more pressing matters to deal with than questioning me about my fidelity.” I don’t hide the rancor I feel, but I do allow her to assume it’s her examination that doesn’t sit well with me.

“And yet you haven’t answered.”

“I’m still here for the same reason I arrived, banshee. War is in my blood. You’d do well to remember who I am.”

“I know exactly who you were , Ziveet.”

A fissure of power tingles through me when she invokes my true name. It’s a mere taste of what divinity is really like, but the memory isn’t welcome. If I lose what I am now, I’ll lose Briar, and that’s not a thought I will entertain.

I move faster than either female can track, leaping into the space in front of the headmistress. Her breath catches, but she doesn’t cower, not even when I’m in her face. “You have no concept of what I was .” I unfurl my wings, allowing her a glimpse.

The sound of the vampire collapsing to the ground behind me makes Syrinx jump, as does the pulse in her throat. Killing her now would be so easy. I think of all the ways I could torture her and let her see that emotion in my god gaze while keeping her completely immobile.

I want her to know she’s helpless and that her life is in my hands. “Every breath you take is a gift from me,” I remind her coldly. If I wasn’t governing how much of my true appearance she can see, the banshee’s mind would have already shut down just like the vampire behind me, but the fear in her eyes is decadent.

“I will be at the selection, Syrinx. I’ll leave it up to you whether or not it’s with the Ivy or against it.”

She exhales a shaky breath. “I want you by my side.” Her words are meant to appease me, but they are laced with a sense of self-preservation I doubt she could hold back at this point. It’s as grating as a gnat.

“Remember that the next time you think of subjecting me to your inquiry.”

The banshee nods once in agreement. I linger for a moment longer before reining in my power and allowing her mind and body to be free. The female stumbles back, nearly falling over her chair in a bid to get away from me. It’s a futile attempt, since the distance makes no difference to me.

When she’s pressed up against her bookcase, I turn my back on the female before sauntering out of the room. In a show of civility, I step over the vampire on the floor in the doorway instead of crushing her skull as instinct demands.

My hands shake when I leave the corridor. The selection begins tomorrow, and nothing will keep me from seeing Briar.

KAGE

Excitement mingled with nervousness makes me wish I would have skipped breakfast. My stomach is swirling more than Ziv’s eyes after he returned from his meeting with Syrinx. I wasn’t dumb enough to ask what happened. The air around him was charged with so much rage, there was no point in trying to talk to him.

Within a few hours of his return, whispers of another death, one I wasn’t responsible for, began circulating. Words like eviscerated , bloodbath , and massacre were thrown around, along with the question of who it could be since all the novices were accounted for.

I knew who was dead, and I knew why, but that didn’t stop me from listening to every hushed theory put forth. Even now, while waiting for our transport to arrive, it still seems to be the topic of conversation, but I also understand why. It’s a welcome distraction from the uncertainty of what we’re walking into. There’s also the dark possibility that we will end up just like the splatters on the wall and piles of flesh left on the floor that can’t be ignored.

I meet Ziv’s eyes across the open field where he’s standing with the other instructors, save the headmistress. Something passes between us, an understanding of sorts that gives me comfort. I know no matter what happens to me, Ziv will find Briar and make sure she’s okay, even if that means protecting her and the wolf to do so.

I thought I would relish the day he was rendered useless, but I never really accepted that was a real possibility either. Now, I just feel sorry for him, or maybe I feel sorry for myself since we’ve both been replaced.

A sound off in the distance pulls my attention to the horizon. The shadow of a vessel comes into view. It isn’t until it’s much closer that I can make out the beasts hauling the thing through the air.

Nervous looks are exchanged between the novices. I’ve never seen a wyvern, only heard of the creatures that at one time flew amongst the dragons, but I can only assume that’s what the winged snake-like animals pulling the craft between them are.

Several novices step back as if they may run before the beasts can get too close, but fortunately, only one takes off in a sprint. He’s caught before he can reach the tree line by a guard who slices a sword through his belly, cutting the male in half with a single stroke.

Hot air blasts my face with every flap of wings until the air swirls with heat and a stench that makes my lips curl, but none of us dare move. The sound of their huffing grows louder, reminding me of the wild boars that roam the forest, nosing through the dirt.

The ground trembles as the wyvern rest the weight of the vessel in the center of the field, cutting off my view of the instructors.

Silence reigns until a horn blasts, alerting the arrival of Syrinx and her guard of eight. The headmistress’s robes are blood red and trail on the ground behind her as she emerges from the contingent of protection. The display is pointless, since no one is here but us and the wyvern, and they don’t seem impressed.

A gate lowers near the front of the vessel, and three figures step forward. They are covered from head to toe in hooded cloaks, making it impossible to discern anything about them. Syrinx waits for the figures to clear the ramp, then she steps forward to receive them. “The Ivy Institute welcomes you.”

The beings move with an eerie synchronicity, ducking their heads as one in response before parting to create a path for the headmistress to board the vessel, followed by her guard. Once the last of the eight men disappear, Ziv stalks toward the ramp, completely ignoring the three figures. The remaining instructors trail after the fallen, creating a long, single file line we are encouraged to join.

I pull my gloves off my hands before stepping onto the ramp. I hate the idea of being trapped on this thing as it sails through the sky, carried by beasts that look like they would rather eat us than escort us.

The interior of the vessel resembles a carriage, but on a scale that’s almost hard to comprehend, even while experiencing it. I don’t see any of the instructors or Ziv, but all of the novices are milling around the perimeter of the space. I find a dark corner and wait.

My heart rate picks up when the ramp closes without the three cloaked figures returning. “Fuck!” I mutter under my breath when the craft lists to the left, then the right. A few novices either drop to the floor or fall. I can’t blame them for doing either. I’m finding it hard to keep my own balance as my gut tries to fall out my ass.

The thick walls of the vessel don’t drown out the beating wings of the wyvern. Every whoosh serves as a visceral reminder that I’m at their mercy. I fight the urge to throw up when the front of the craft lifts, making it apparent we’re rising. Not being able to see allows my imagination to craft countless images, most of them ending with us being dropped out of the clouds to splatter against the ground.

Eventually, we level off, and the panic causing my palms to sweat and knees to shake slowly fades. I force myself to focus on Briar and the reward of seeing her when this fucked up ride is over. Next time I see Ziv, I’m going to punch him in the nuts for not warning me about the journey.

I lower to the floor as my stomach churns with the need to puke. It isn’t from nerves this time, as the constant swaying motion is making me queasy. The only thing keeping me from hurling is sheer will. I’ll be damned if I’ll let anyone see me spewing my guts on the floor like some of the other novices.

Minutes tick by like hours until I’m not sure how long I’ve been trapped in this damn thing, but I do know my skin is crawling to get out of it. I can’t even allow myself to consider the trip back in this thing.

When I slip forward a few inches as we careen down without warning, I contemplate how badly I really want to land, because speeding toward the ground is even more frightening than being in the air. I slap my palm down to steady myself, but it offers little resistance, and I skid forward a little more.

Curses can be heard, some might even be mine, but at least I’m not the one who screams as we pitch even farther. A few novices end up tumbling to the ground in a messy heap, but we level out again before I slam feet first into a tangle of limbs.

A round of yelps resounds when the vessel seemingly slams to the ground. My ass actually hurts, but I’ve never been more grateful for pain in my life. My legs shake when I push myself up off the floor, but I ignore it, even when I’m concerned my knees might buckle.

My heart is beating so damn fast, I have the urge to run to the exit and bang on the door to get it to open faster. The combination of adrenaline and nervous excitement is worse now than when I realized my creature was taken.

The instructors take their time returning from wherever the hell they rode out the ride, and none of them look as green as half of the novices. It makes me want to strangle them, especially Ziv who pushes his way to the front of the group. His hands are opening and closing into fists as if he’s fighting the urge to knock people out of his way.

The heavy footfalls of Syrinx’s guards draw my attention from the fallen as the group makes their way down the center of the vessel. Ziv steps out of the way at the last second, and I’m certain he only does it then because he wants off this damn thing as much as I do for the same reason—the need to see Briar.

The door slowly drops, creating a ramp. I force myself to stand still and not shove everyone, including Syrinx, out of my way. I do, however, step to the side to get a better view. I have to admit, seeing the ground covered in a thick layer of plush green grass helps ease the tension in my shoulders. I knew we weren’t flying anymore, but seeing the proof myself is so much better.

Unseen horns blare, announcing Syrinx’s arrival. After a short pause, she steps onto the ramp, her head held high as if she thinks she’s a queen greeting her subjects.

“Get moving,” Ziv snaps at her final two guards who seem to be moving slower than the others, or maybe we are just impatient. The second they step out the door, he’s right behind them. I see his head snap to the left, and his intense gaze makes me believe he’s looking at my creature.

I jostle my way to the front of the group, not caring who I have to push out of the way—they should just be happy I made sure I didn’t touch anyone’s skin.

The sky is so bright I have to squint when I breach the exit. I don’t waste time looking around, and instead, I let my instincts guide my attention in the same direction Ziv was focused on.

My heart actually forgets to beat the moment I see her beautiful face. Her chin is turned to the side, allowing me the perfect view of her full profile. The heavy thud of my heart restarting slams against my ribs, and her gaze snaps to mine as if she could hear it just as clearly as I felt it. Our eyes lock, and terror grips me. There is no way I would be able to stop myself from touching her if she was close. My hands actually ache with the need to feel her skin.

The corner of her mouth lifts just enough to let me know she’s acknowledging me. Before I can respond in kind, the fallen is standing in front of her, blocking my view.

“Oh shit!” I mutter. This definitely wasn’t part of the plan.

In slow motion, I watch his back muscles shift as he leans his too large frame down and wraps his arms around my creature. I understand why he did it—hell, I just had the same idea—but his move could come with consequences as well. Now everyone will know what she is to him.

He turns, and I see just how tiny she looks in his arms. The last several months melt away, making me wonder how we survived this long without her. When my boot touches the grass, I give up all pretenses and stride right over to them. I may not be able to wrap her in my arms, but I can get close enough to see the flecks in her eyes, smell her skin, and revel in the pain that I feel when she’s near enough to touch.

I watch her squirm for a heartbeat then turn her face out of Ziv’s chest. There are unshed tears in her eyes when her gaze finds mine. I’m so busy remembering how to breathe properly, I don’t notice her hand reaching up until it’s too late, and I feel the brush of fingertips along my jaw.

Ziv moves faster than I’m able to track, ripping her away from me and showing me his back. My legs give out almost as fast as my hand covers the exact spot my creature just caressed, and my thoughts fragment. Even knowing what this means, I still want to rip her away from the fallen and touch her again, but I can’t seem to move.

“What did you do?” Ziv accuses. His voice isn’t loud, but it still carries across the field. My throat tightens to the point of pain, but I don’t do anything to alleviate it. I’m not even tempted to defend myself or tell him it was her who touched me. It doesn’t matter, not when it’s my fault she’s dead.

Ziv’s rage filled bellow is the last thing I hear before everything goes black.

To be continued in Sacrificed Spines 2025