Torn Ivy (Thornfield Supernatural Academy #2)

16. Ivy

16

IVY

I blink up at Torin, my mind hazy with pleasure and exhaustion.

“I can’t remember,” I murmur.

Torin smiles with satisfaction and something softer in his eyes. “Good girl.”

I whimper as Bram and Tate slowly pull out of me. My body aches in the most delicious way, thoroughly used and marked by the three of them. I collapse onto the bed, cum leaking from my abused holes.

“Fuck,” I mumble into the sheets.

Bram chuckles darkly. “You took it beautifully. Such a good girl for us.”

I shiver at his praise, a spark of arousal igniting despite my exhaustion. These men will be the death of me.

“Come on,” Torin says, scooping me up in his arms. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

As he carries me to the bathroom, I catch sight of the book Tate brought. It sits forgotten on my desk, a reminder of the chaos that awaits us outside of this moment. But for now, I let myself sink into the afterglow, surrounded by the men who captivate me.

Torin sets me down gently in the shower, his touch surprisingly tender after the brutal fucking I just endured. The hot water cascades over us as the guys join us, their hands roaming my body and cleaning me with reverent care.

“Fuck, you’re incredible,” Tate murmurs, pressing a kiss to my shoulder.

I lean back against his chest, letting the water sluice away the evidence of our debauchery.

“Did we help you forget?” Bram asks, his dark eyes searching mine. “Truly?”

For a moment, I’d actually managed to push aside the looming threats and mysteries. But reality comes crashing back as I remember why I needed the distraction in the first place.

“For a while,” I admit. “But we can’t ignore what’s happening forever.”

Torin’s jaw clenches. “We’ll figure it out. Let’s just take this night, yeah?”

I want to agree, but I’m impatient at the best of times. “The book. What did Vex find?”

Tate’s arms tighten around me. “Let’s get dried off first. Then we’ll go through it together.”

I nod, allowing myself a few more minutes of peace before facing whatever new revelations await us. As we step out of the shower, I catch sight of myself in the steamy mirror. My hair is wild, skin flushed and marked with bruises and bites. I look thoroughly fucked and claimed.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” Bram murmurs, coming up behind me and meeting my eyes in the mirror. His hands slide possessively over my hips.

I lean back against him, a small smile playing on my lips. “You guys certainly know how to make a girl feel wanted.”

Torin snorts as he towels off. “Wanted? Try fucking irresistible.”

We dry off and head back to my bedroom. I pull on an oversized t-shirt, not bothering with anything else. The guys get comfortable as Tate retrieves the book from my desk.

“Let’s see what Vex dug up,” I say, settling on the bed between Bram and Torin.

Tate opens the book, flipping through pages of ancient text. “There is a lot of my family history in here,” he starts carefully. “Apparently, my bloodline, the Well and Black bloodline, is an anchor for chaos magick. It’s why you feel more stable around me.”

“What?” I ask, eyebrows raised. “Really?”

He nods, almost shyly. Torin is staring at him with something wary, and a little bit annoyed.

“Is that why we are fated?” I murmur, shifting my gaze back to Tate.

“We are more than that,” he says. “We are two pieces of the same whole.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Torin snaps. “You don’t get to swoop in here and take her away from us with this crap.”

Tate growls. “Who’s taking her away, you arsehole? I’m stating facts.” He jabs the book harshly.

“Never mind that,” I snap, eager to learn more about this magick that is threatening to tear me in half. “What does it say about the magick?”

“That’s where it becomes a bit blurry,” he says with a huff at Torin and refocusing.

“Well, I think it’s Ancient Fae magick,” Bram blurts out. “Somehow, you, being not Fae, are able to wield it. It chose you, obviously, but the basis of it is from my heritage.”

“Oh?” I ask interestedly. “How do you figure?”

“Like recognises like,” he says and holds his hand up. Dark shadows filter out of his palm and wrap themselves around me, drawing out my pink energy and combining with it.

“Fuck,” I mutter. “Okay, Fae, it is.”

“I think you’re a witch,” Torin adds, almost triumphantly, with a glare at Tate.

“What?” I ask, scrunching up my nose. “How so?”

He rolls his eyes. “Something my mother said. She doesn’t just say things. Every word is measured. She called you a chaos witch. I thought at first it was a slur, like bitch, but it’s not. It’s fact.”

“And how does she know this?”

He shrugs, and then glowers at me. “You’re going to get me to ask her, aren’t you?”

“Only if you want to. I get family drama, and I won’t ask you to do anything you don’t want to. But it might help.”

“She won’t tell us anything she doesn’t want us to know.”

I sigh, running a hand through my damp hair. “So, if we cut her out of the equation, what we know is that I’m some sort of chaos witch with Ancient Fae magick, anchored by Tate’s bloodline.”

Bram nods solemnly. “That about sums it up.”

“Great,” I mutter. “The witch thing is interesting. I’ve never had active magick before now. I wonder where the witch side has come in and why it’s never manifested before.”

Torin’s hand slides up my thigh, his touch is both possessive and comforting. “We’ll figure it out without my mother’s hindrance.”

I snicker. “Yeah, if we can’t trust her, we don’t need her.”

“Thank you,” he says with a rush.

I cup his face and give him a soft smile.

Tate flips through more pages of the book, his brow furrowed in concentration. “There’s something here about balancing the chaos. It says the anchor - that would be me - needs to...oh.”

“What?” I ask, sitting up straighter. “What does it say?”

Tate’s cheeks flush slightly. “It says we need to, uh, merge our energies. Frequently and deeply.”

Torin snorts. “So, you need to fuck. A lot. How convenient.”

I roll my eyes at Torin’s barb. “Is that all it says? Just ‘merge energies’?”

“Yeah. It’s sharing magick. Letting mine touch yours. Just like you did with Bram a minute ago.”

“Okay, well, that doesn’t sound terrible—” But I stop when I see the look on his face. “What?”

“I’m supposed to take the burden from you. Absorb some of that power and filter it.”

“Is that dangerous?”

He shrugs.

“Okay, maybe we don’t do that then until we know.”

We sit in silence, each lost in our own thoughts. This is getting way more complicated than I could’ve imagined. I didn’t want any of this. I was happy being a shifter, and now I’m all sorts of other things that I don’t understand or even know where they came from.

“Maybe we need to start with my own family tree,” I murmur. “Try to find out where the witch came from.”

Before the guys can answer, reality bends. I feel nauseous as Death materialises in the room with an ominous rumble. “That would come from me.”