Read i 0e57392105b539eb Online
Authors: Unknown
something people called her, and as far as she knew, it had no meaning
or purpose behind it. Her parents hadn’t even chosen her name until
three days after her birth, presumably because they couldn’t continue to
call her “baby” for the rest of her life. They’d been so desperate for a boy
they hadn’t even considered a list of possible female names.
“Your parents are assholes,” Cami grumbled. “Fuck them.”
“Stay out of my head,” Ivy chastised lightly. Cami so rarely cursed,
but when she did, it always caught her by surprise to hear such vulgar
words spew from the woman’s lips. “Your dads aren’t exactly winning
any Parent of the Year awards, either.”
“True.” Cami tilted her head to the side. “Tariq’s mom is a psychotic
bitch, and Sion’s parents…well, I don’t actually know anything about his
parents.”
Come to think of it, Ivy didn’t know much about Sion’s past, either.
“Well, that’s why we have each other.”
“Okay, enough with the depressing stuff.” Wandering around the
side of the bed, Cami perused the dresses hanging on a portable rack in
the corner. “Let’s get back to making you gorgeous.” She paused to
scrutinize one of the dresses, then pulled it off the hanger. “Try this one.”
“Oh, that is a wonderful choice,” Luci agreed. “The dye in the fabric
is made with crushed
lakatsa
stones.”
Ivy touched the pendant around her neck as she reached for the dress
with her other hand. “Like my necklace?”
“A wishing stone, yes. Let’s see what you look like in it.”
The women helped her into the dress, and Cami laced up the corseted
back, pulling the strings tight until Ivy could barely breathe. The black
material covered her shoulders, and the long, wide arms created a
flattering image, but Ivy nearly choked when she saw the front.
Technically, the dress didn’t have a neckline. Just two satin panels
that barely covered her breasts, held together by a gold cord that
crisscrossed down her midsection from sternum to hips. Triangular
patterns had been cut into the sides, baring the skin on her flanks, and
the slit in the skirt traveled halfway up her thigh.
“I can’t wear this.” For all the flesh it covered, she might as well have
been naked.
“Hush.” Cami fluffed the skirt and straightened the sleeves. “You
look gorgeous. Kai isn’t going to be able to take his eyes off you.”
Ivy stared at herself in the full-length mirror, twisting and swaying
as she examined her reflection. When she moved, the fabric caught the
light, and golden sparkles illumined the dress like a tiny thousand stars.
“You don’t think it’s too revealing?”
“No,” both women answered together.
“I think it’s perfect,” Cami added.
After they’d convinced her she’d be absurd not to wear the dress for
the celebration, Ivy reluctantly agreed and changed back into her tunic
and tights. While she finished pulling on her boots, Luci tapped a button
on the side of the big, standing mirror, transforming the glass into a
computer screen.
“Okay, that’s awesome.” Ivy flopped down into one of the armchairs
in the sitting area of her room and tucked Hamlet into her lap. “What do
we do next?”
“There will be hundreds in attendance,” Luci explained, “but only a
few you’ll need to remember. The Court of Elders, of course, whom
you’ve already met. Also the Vaseres and Vaseras from the Isles, their
personal guards, and some notable advisors.”
“Vaseres? Vaseras?”
“The rulers of the other islands,” Cami explained. “On the bright side,
only one of them is mated, so it’s only five names to remember.”
“Is that all?” Ivy muttered sarcastically as pictures appeared on the
computer screen. “What else?”
“It is customary for the guest of honor to light the five torches in a
show of unity,” Luci continued as though there hadn’t been an
interruption. “One torch to represent each Isle.”
Ivy winced. “You mean…”
“With magic.” The attendant nodded. “Have you been practicing?”
“Some.” Gripping her pendant, Ivy sunk lower in her seat and
groaned. “I’m not even from Xenthian. Maybe they’ll let me use a
match.”
“Don’t be silly,” Cami scoffed. “You’re getting pretty good at
producing those flames. You can do this.”
Anxiety threatened to overwhelm her, twisting her stomach and
knotting the muscles in her back. Everyone seemed so confident in her
abilities, more so than she deserved. While she appreciated the
encouragement, Ivy had the terrible feeling she’d soon be adding her
friends to the long list of people she’d inevitably disappoint.
Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes and spilled over to roll down
her cheeks. Angered by the show of weakness, she wiped at them
roughly and sprung up from her chair.
“Ivy, are you okay?” Cami asked.
“Yeah, fine. I’m just going to…I need…I’ll be back.”
Leaving Hamlet in the empty seat, she disappeared into the bathroom
and locked the door behind her. She needed five minutes to panic. Five
minutes to fall apart and put herself back together without witnesses.
With her back pressed to the wall, she slid to the floor, dropping her face
into her hands. Then she did something she hadn’t done since her first
year at the Academy.
She cried.
* * * *
and fidgeted with the belt on her tunic. “I’ve tried talking to her, but she
won’t answer me.”
Resting his hands on his hips, Kai looked toward the closed bathroom
door and sighed. “What happened?”
“I’m not sure. We were going over details for the celebration, and she
just got up and left.” Cami’s storm-gray eyes glistened with unshed tears
and her bottom lip wobbled. “I’m sorry to bother you, but I didn’t know
what else to do.”
“You were right to send for me, Cami.” Reaching out, he patted her
shoulder awkwardly. “Go on, go find your mate. I’ll let you know when
Ivy is feeling better.”
With a hesitant nod, the tiny female carried her pet to the door of his
chambers, and after a last look over her shoulder, disappeared into the
hallway. Alone, Hamlet spun in circles on the cushion of the armchair
and curled himself into a ball with a wide yawn.
“You’re no help.” Leaving the
bekshin
to sleep, he crossed the open
space to the frosted door of the bathroom and rapped his knuckles
against the glass. “Ivy, can you hear me?” Frowning, he pressed his palm
against the door, surprised to find it warm, almost hot. “Dove, open the
door.”
Lights flickered on the other side of the door, casting shadows against
the opaque glass. Concerned when he didn’t receive a response, Kai
attempted to transport himself into the bathroom with his mate, but only
succeeded in giving himself a headache. Concern turned to fear, and fear
to panic when he attempted a simple summoning charm and failed.
Exhaustion hit him from nowhere, causing his legs to tremble, and he
felt weak, drained…gutted.
“Ivy!” He pounded his fist against the glass. “Ivy, open the door!” In
desperation, he slammed his hand against the pressure pad, but the light
only blinked red, indicating the door had been locked from the inside.
“Ivy, damn it, open this fucking door!”
Thin tendrils of smoke seeped from the cracks around the frame and
spiraled out of the vent on the wall beside him. “Ivy!” he bellowed, his
voice resonating throughout the room.
Unable to depend on his magic, he searched for other means to get to
his mate. Stumbling to the bed, he climbed up on the mattress and
removed the ceremonial spear from its display on the wall. With his
strength waning, he almost fell twice before he managed to hoist the
spear over his shoulder and hurl it at the door. The wooden handle
snapped in half from the impact, but the metal blade only ricocheted off
the glass and tumbled to the floor.
“Kai, move!”
So focused on getting inside the bathroom, he hadn’t heard Tira and
Sion enter his quarters, and it took a moment for the captain’s words to
register. Apparently, he’d hesitated too long for Tira, because she
shouldered past him, knocking him sideways. In his weakened state, his
legs gave out, and he would have crashed to the floor if Sion hadn’t
caught him around the waist.
“What the hell is going on?” the shifter demanded.
“Ivy,” Kai panted, unable to pull enough air into his lungs.
“Something’s wrong. She’s…” He trailed off, coughing and gasping as
he struggled to breathe. “She’s syphoning my magic.”
The wishing stone allowed her access to only a small piece of his
magic when they were together. She shouldn’t have been able to tap into
so much of his power, and she definitely shouldn’t have been able to take
it from him.
Tira vanished in a wisp of wind, only to reappear when the light on
the pressure pad turned green and the bathroom door slid open. A wave
of heat exploded into the sleeping quarters, and smoke billowed from
the open door.
In the middle of the empty tub, Ivy sat cross-legged, her eyes closed
while she clutched at her pendant. A ring of blue and purple flames rose
up around the stone basin, stretching toward the ceiling and singeing
everything they touched. Unable to penetrate the wall of fire, Tira called
Ivy’s name, trying to wake the female from her trance.
When that didn’t work, she transported herself once again,
reappearing behind Ivy in the stone basin. Grabbing the chain of Ivy’s
necklace near her collarbones, Tira jerked hard, snapping the links and
wrenching the pendant from the female’s hand.
The flames disappeared at once, leaving only a smoldering circle of
embers and smoke. Kai gasped and choked, breathing air into his
burning lungs. The dizziness dissipated, the throbbing in his temples
eased, and a rush of power gave strength to his failing body.
“What?” Ivy tilted her head back, blinking dazedly up at the captain.
“What happened?”
“You took your soulmate’s magic and almost killed him,” Tira
answered bluntly. “Not to mention, you could have burned yourself
alive.”
“I was just practicing. For the torches. The celebration.” Rising up on
her knees, she peered over the edge of the tub to the scorched ring on the
floor. “Oh, my stars,” she breathed, her eyes wide and frightened. “What
did I do?”
Pushing away from the shifter, Kai staggered into the bathroom, still
not fully recovered from the ordeal. “Come here, dove.”
“Kai?” He must have looked as bad as he felt, because Ivy covered
her open mouth with her palm as teardrops beaded along her lower
lashes. “Oh, Kai, I’m so sorry.”
“It doesn’t matter.” His mate was safe, and he cared about nothing
else. Reaching the stone basin, he bent over the curved edge to lift Ivy
into his arms.
“How can you say that?” she demanded. Her voice wavered and
cracked, but she wrapped her arms around his neck and held on tight. “I
could have killed you.”
“It’s over now, dove.” He didn’t know what had happened or how,
but he didn’t blame her. “Rest.”
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” she repeated over and over, clinging to him
as he carried her to the bed.
Holding her tight, he eased down on the mattress and maneuvered
until his back rested against the headboard. Tira and Sion gathered at the
foot of the mattress, but Kai waved them away. He needed to be alone
with his mate.
“Leave us.”
“Sir,” Tira began, “I think we should—”
“Leave us,” he said again, his voice barely above a whisper.
Knowing better than to argue a second time, Tira nodded, grabbed
Sion by the elbow, and dragged him out of the room. Cradling his dove
in his lap, he stroked her hair and rocked her, humming a song his
mother hand sang to him as a youngling when he’d been frightened or
upset.
When Ivy had finally stopped shaking, and her pulse had returned
to a less dangerous rhythm, Kai slid the knuckle of his forefinger under
her chin and urged her to look at him. “Tell me what happened, dove.”
“I don’t know.”
“Why don’t you start from the beginning? Cami said something
happened while you were preparing for the celebration.”
Ivy tried to look away, but Kai held her by the chin, forcing her to
meet his gaze. “It was nothing. I just don’t like parties very much.”
“You’re lying.” He could see it in her eyes. “Don’t hide from me, Ivy.
Whatever it is, you can tell me.”
Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, and she took several shallow
breaths before answering. “I suck at this,” she blurted. “I don’t know
how to be a queen or even a mate. I don’t know how to do magic or light
some stupid torches with an imaginary flame. There is no way I’m going