Torn Ivy (Thornfield Supernatural Academy #2)

47. Ivy

The icy chill creeping through the room sends a shiver down my spine, which has nothing to do with post-orgasmic bliss. I sit up, wrapping the sheet around myself, and scan the darkened corners of my bedroom.

“Something’s not right,” I murmur, my senses on high alert.

The guys tense around me, on guard. Tate summons clothes onto all of us so we aren’t about to face down danger in the nude. Then he lights a small flame in his palm, casting flickering shadows across the walls.

“Show yourself,” Bram growls, black energy snaps at his fingertips. I can feel the malevolence from across the room and shudder.

For a moment, nothing happens. Then, a figure materialises near the foot of the bed. Tall, skeletal, draped in a black robe.

“Oh, it’s you,” I state with a huff. “What do you want?”

His hollow eye sockets seem to bore into me, if that is even possible. “I’ve come with a warning, Ivy Hammond, and an offer.”

Torin shifts closer to me protectively. “What kind of warning?”

“What kind of offer?” Tate snaps.

Death’s bony fingers curl as he looks around at all of us, clearly post-fuck, and by the expression on his face, if he had eyes, he’d roll them at us. “The scales have tipped too far. Life grows desperate. She will stop at nothing to reset the balance. Even if it means destroying everything in the process.”

“And the offer?” I ask warily.

“A chance to stop her. To preserve this reality and all the others connected to it.” Death pauses, his gaze sweeping over all of us. “But it will come with a heavy price.”

“Doesn’t it always?” I grit out. “I’ve been through hell and back, so give it to me. It can’t be any worse than what I’ve already been through.”

He chuckles ominously. “You sure about that?”

He clicks his fingers, and it echoes around the room.

The bare room in the middle of some dimension that definitely isn’t the supernatural realm. “Where are my guys?” I ask immediately.

“They are not here.”

“Well, duh,” I growl. “Did you hurt them?”

“No. They are inconsequential.”

“No, they aren’t! How dare you!”

“Oh, calm down. I mean for this decision. It is yours to make, and I don’t want them influencing you in any way, shape, or form.”

“What decision?” I ask, dread welling up for about the millionth time this month.

“This has all spun wildly out of control, dear girl. The chaos you hold inside you, the bonds you have with those men, Life deciding that you are more of a threat than she first anticipated. It’s all escalated to levels that were unprecedented. We need to act. Together.”

“Okay, I’m with you on that this has turned into a massive clusterfuck, but how do we end it?”

He considers my question for a moment. “You will recall that you are of my line?”

“Yeah, kind of hard to forget.”

“You subconsciously rejected my power.” He glares at me with his non-eyes.

I grimace. “Sorry?”

He snorts. “Bit late for that, child. You were chosen by me to be my protector against this, what did you call it?” He waves his bony hand around.

“Clusterfuck?” I offer up helpfully.

“Indeed. This clusterfuck.”

“Protect you how?” I ask, pursing my lips, trying not to focus on Death saying ‘clusterfuck’.

“Are you truly ready to embrace your destiny, Ivy Hammond?”

“Are you truly ready to stop talking in riddles and give it to me straight?”

“I am. The time has come. And gone. And come back around again. You know, that is going to come back and bite you on your arse, right?”

“The time rewind? Figured. But less of that and more of the more immediate problem.”

He pauses and looks a little pained, as if speaking the truth hurts him.

“Time’s ticking,” I say, tapping my wrist even though I’m not wearing a watch and never have.

He places his hands together, palms facing each other as if in prayer. “You need to accept that this power is inside you. Aside from the chaos, aside from the shifter nature, the witch part of you that comes from me is something you have to embrace.”

“Okay. That should be easy enough,” I say, thinking I got off lightly here, but I should know better. My life just isn’t that simple anymore. Maybe once. Not today.

“It is imperative for you to take on the role that I need from you.”

“Which is?”

“You need to become me.”

It’s a show stopping moment, but only because I wasn’t expecting it right at this moment. It had been a theory we discussed right at the beginning and dismissed. “You are retiring?”

He smiles and shakes his head. “No such thing. You will take my power, absorb the force of Death, combine your essence with mine and those who came before me and become Death.”

“Become you,” I say slowly. “Become Death.”

He nods. “The Syndicate has been a front for many years now collecting souls. An army. You will need it to fight Life.”

“An army of souls?” I don’t like the sound of this, one bit.

“The worst offenders this world has ever had to offer. I have sourced them, and you, Poison, amongst others, have killed them and collected them. Building up this army needed to preserve the natural order.”

“An army of souls?” I repeat, my mind reeling at the implications. “You want me to become Death and command an army of the worst souls in history?”

Death nods solemnly. “It is the only way to stop Life from altering the course of nature. She is the first. She is more powerful. It is easier to take a life than to create it. I am one of many forces of Death since the dawn of time. She is a constant.”

I shake my head, overwhelmed. “How am I supposed to become Death? What happens to me? To Ivy? To who I am now?”

“You will still be you. But you will also be more. Your essence, your memories, your loves, will remain. But you will gain my power, my knowledge, my purpose.”

“And what about my guys? My life here?” I ask, my voice cracking slightly.

Death is silent for a long moment. “That part is up to you. You can attempt to carry on your life here at Thornfield. I cannot say how that will go.”

“What did you do?” I ask, my voice small and afraid. My mouth has gone dry, and my hands are shaking slightly. “Did you carry on?”

Death hesitates before answering. “I tried, for a time. But the power, the responsibility, changes you. Makes it difficult to maintain normal relationships and a normal life.”

I feel a chill run through me at his words. “So, I’d have to give them up? Give up everything?”

“Not necessarily,” Death says. “But your priorities would shift. Your focus would need to be on maintaining the balance, on guiding souls and commanding the army against Life’s forces. Personal attachments become complicated, especially if one of them reaches the end of the line.”

The end of the line. Death. Yes, they are all supernatural creatures with some sort of immortality. If they live safe and secure lives. But that is no guarantee. Not when I foresee Life gunning for me every chance she’ll get. This isn’t a one-and-done. It will be a constant thing.

“You have fought her off since you became Death?”

He nods solemnly. “And my predecessor before me, and so on.”

“Fuck.” I wrap my arms around myself, feeling suddenly cold and very alone. “So, it’s sacrificing my life as I know it, or sacrificing all of reality?” I ask bitterly. “Some choice.”

“It is the burden of power,” Death says solemnly. “With great responsibility comes?—”

I snort. “Oh, fuck off.”

Death actually chuckles. “Fair enough. But the sentiment remains true.”

Dropping my face into my hands, I inhale deeply before exhaling. I know what I have to do. There is no choice. It’s a matter of fact. Plain and simple. As much as I hate to admit it, he is right about the guys not being involved in this. They will try to stop me. Or even if they didn’t, what then? Whichever way that pans out, it would fall back on them. I can’t let that happen. This is my choice and mine alone.

I lower my hands to my sides and lift my chin. “How do we do this?” Please don’t say a ritual. Please don’t say a ritual.

He opens his arms wide, his black cloak billowing around him. I see the depth of the darkness now. I see an eternity of the void, of souls swirling in an endless space. I see the weight of countless deaths, of guiding spirits to their final rest. I see the responsibility of maintaining the balance between life and death.

“Are you ready, Ivy Hammond?” Death asks, his voice echoing through the emptiness.

I take a deep breath, steeling myself. “I am.”

Death nods solemnly. “Then step forward.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“Are you ready, David Beech?”

He rears back slightly, and I choke back the sob as tears of blood roll down his skeletal face. “I am ready.”

Nodding with a depth of emotion I never thought I would feel for the creature standing in front of me with shaking legs, I move towards him. As I get closer, I feel a pull, like gravity increasing exponentially. The darkness swirls around me, tendrils of shadow wrapping around my limbs.

Death places his bony hands on either side of my face. His touch is cold but not unpleasant. It feels like coming home to a place I’ve never been.

“Embrace the darkness, Ivy,” he whispers. “Let it become a part of you.” He wraps his arms around me.

I close my eyes, and darkness rushes in, filling every cell of my body. I gasp at the sensation—it’s overwhelming, terrifying, and exhilarating.

Memories flood through me, not just my own, but Death’s—Millennia of guiding souls, of maintaining the balance. The weight of responsibility settles on my shoulders like a heavy cloak.

I feel myself changing and expanding. My consciousness stretches across time and space. I can sense every soul in existence and feel the ebb and flow of life and death across countless realities.

When I open my eyes, I’m no longer just Ivy. I am Death. The power rushes through me, ancient and terrible and beautiful.

David Beech stands before me, his form already fading. “It is done,” he says softly. “The mantle has passed to you.”

I reach out to him and claim my first soul. He dissipates into wisps of shadow, but I grasp him by his hand and lead him into the army of souls that occupy the void inside me.

I’m alone now. Death. The protector of balance. The commander of a soul army.

I close my eyes as it washes over me and when I open them again, I’m back in my bedroom. My guys are frantic, but before they can ask, or I can tell them anything, Life appears. She must’ve sensed the exchange of power, and she is fuming .

“I see,” she spits out. “David Beech, you are a fucker of the highest calibre.”

“No, he’s fucking smart, and you are not going to win this fight, Life. Not now, not ever.”

She drops her shoulders, and her form shifts. My mouth drops open in shock as the form standing before me is one I instantly recognise. Fury slams into my chest, and I lunge forward, hands outstretched, prepared to be obliterated if need be, to just wring her scrawny fucking neck.

Read on with Wild Ivy, Book 3 Wild Ivy (pre order for end of Jan 2025)