Page 42 of Torn Ivy
“Are you okay?” Torin asks, moving closer but still maintaining a safe distance.
I consider the question seriously. “I think so. It feels different, like everything’s settled into a new configuration.”
“And the shifting?” Bram asks. “Can you still control it?”
I focus briefly, and my appearance changes smoothly between Ivy and Poison before settling back. “Yeah, but it feels different too. Less like putting on a mask and more like expressing different aspects of the same whole.”
“That’s what Death meant,” Tate says suddenly. “About evolution. This isn’t just about power growing stronger, it’s about it becoming something new entirely.”
I nod, watching as pinky-purple energy dances between my fingers, responding to my thoughts without trying to overwhelm them. “I think you’re right. But something tells me this is just the beginning.”
“Of what?” Torin asks.
Looking around at my guys—my anchors, my lovers, my partners in whatever this chaos is becoming—I smile. “Of finding out exactly what I’m capable of now that I’m not subconsciously fighting myself anymore.”
The power purrs beneath my skin, no longer trying to tear me apart, but eager to show me what it can do. What we can do, now that we’re truly integrated.
“Should we be worried?” Tate asks, but he’s grinning.
“Probably,” I admit. “But when has that ever stopped us?”
He chuckles, but I can see the worry underneath. I’m scared too, but I won’t show it. Whatever this evolution is, I have to learn how to identify it and control it before I’m torn apart by it. If that happens, I’m not sure what will be left ofme.
19
TATE
WatchingIvy integrate her power is concerning, but also a relief. But there’s a cost to all this power, and I’m starting to feel it. She’s gone back to her place to shower and change, leaving us to deal with the aftermath of her transformation. What I had to tell her can wait in light of this development. I know she knows it isn’t going to last, and that thought is what is worrying me.
When she pulled on her power to accept her personas, she drew on mine as well. My hands still tingle from where her magick burned me earlier, but that’s not what concerns me. It’s the deeper ache, the way my own magick feels different since I started anchoring her power.
“You look like shit,” Torin says bluntly as we clean up the kitchen.
“Thanks,” I mutter, wincing as another wave of discomfort rolls through me. My magick flickers erratically, causing the broken glass I’m sweeping to briefly turn into butterflies before returning to normal.
“He’s right,” Bram says, watching me with those too-perceptive Fae eyes. “Something’s wrong.”
I straighten up, fighting back a wave of dizziness. “I’m fine.”
“Bullshit,” Torin snaps. “Your aura is almost as fucked up as Ivy’s was, and just as visible,” he adds, shooting a look at Bram, who rolls his eyes.
Running a hand through my hair, I try to focus my magick on fixing a broken window. Instead, reality warps around it, creating a portal that shows glimpses of other dimensions before I quickly shut it down.
“Fuck,” I breathe, stumbling back. That’s definitely new.
“Sit down before you fall down,” Bram orders, guiding me to a chair. “What’s happening?”
I shake my head, trying to clear the strange double vision that has developed. “I don’t know. Ever since I started anchoring Ivy’s power, things have been weird.”
“Weird, how?” Torin demands.
“Like my magick isn’t entirely mine anymore.” I hold up my hands, watching as black sparks mix with traces of pink and purple energy. “It’s changing, adapting to handle her chaos.”
“The grimoire mentioned this,” Bram says suddenly. “About anchors bearing consequences. We didn’t read far enough to see what those consequences were.”
Another surge of foreign power races through me, and I grip the arm of the chair as reality threatens to bend again. “Well, I think we’re finding out.”
“We need to tell Ivy,” Torin says, but I shake my head vigorously.
