Page 55 of Torn Ivy
Bram moves closer, studying the floating design with his Fae sight. “That’s why the Ancient Fae magick responded to you. The Fae understand balance better than most - we exist in the spaces between realms.”
“And why I’m your anchor,” Tate adds, his black energy now threaded with hints of my chaos. “The Well bloodline isn’t just about containing chaos - it’s about helping channel it productively.”
I nod, feeling the truth in my bones. “Death knew Life was planning something. He knew she’d been manipulatingbloodlines for centuries, trying to create the perfect vessel for her power. So, he adapted. Used her own plan against her.”
“By making sure her perfect vessel would be equally attuned to his power,” Torin says, catching on. “Fucking brilliant, actually.”
“More than that. He made sure I’d be capable of understanding both sides. Life and Death. Creation and destruction. Growth and decay. They’re not opposing forces—they’re parts of the same whole. Or they’re supposed to be.”
The twisted vegetation Life left behind responds to my presence differently now. Instead of growing wildly, it settles into a more natural pattern, finding equilibrium between growth and decay.
“That’s why you rejected becoming Death while still in the womb,” Tate realises. “Not because you were fighting against Death’s power, but because you were meant to be something else entirely. Something new.”
“Not new,” I correct, as I see the bigger picture. “Ancient. As old as Life and Death themselves. There has to have been a balance keeper. Someone or something that maintains equilibrium between realms. Life’s been trying to eliminate that role, to tip everything toward endless growth.”
Reality ripples around us again, but this time, I don’t fight it. Instead, I let my magick flow naturally, watching as it stabilises the fluctuations rather than exacerbates them.
“It’s not about becoming powerful enough to destroy Death. It’s about becoming balanced enough to stand between Life and Death. To prevent either force from dominating the other.”
“That’s why Death gave you those choices,” Bram says. “Kill us or lose your soul - he was testing whether you could understand the necessity of balance. That sometimes sacrifice is needed to maintain the natural order.”
“I’d be willing to bet that’s why he imprisoned us as well. To see if we could escape and get back to Ivy or give up and face our fate,” Torin murmurs.
Nodding, I find this all makes sense on a level that is so whacked out, it probably takes a mad bitch to understand it. “I found another way.”
“Because that’s what balance is really about,” Tate says softly. “Finding the path between extremes. Not just accepting the options you’re given but creating new possibilities.”
The marking on my lower back flares warmly, and I understand something else, too. “The fated mate bond - it’s not just about romance or destiny. It’s about creating connections that help maintain balance. Each of you brings something essential to this equation.”
“Tate anchors your chaos,” Torin says, counting off on his fingers. “Bram brings the Fae understanding of between-spaces, and I...” he pauses, frowning.
“You bring the perspective of someone who exists between life and death,” I tell him. “Vampires aren’t fully alive or fully dead. You understand liminality in a way few others can.”
The room falls quiet as we all process these revelations.
“So, what now?” Bram finally asks. “How do we stop Life from unmaking everything?”
“We don’t fight her directly,” I say slowly. “That’s what she wants. Conflict, disruption, a chance to prove that her way is better. Instead, we restore balance. Every time she tries to tip the scales toward endless life, we find ways to maintain equilibrium.”
“And Death?” Torin asks. “Where does he fit into all this?”
“He’s been playing the long game as well. Working against Life’s plans while appearing to oppose us. Everything he’s done, the ultimatums, the tests, even setting The Syndicate against me - it’s all been about preparing me for this role.”
“The perfect vessel,” Tate murmurs, “not for Death’s power or Life’s, but for balance itself.”
“Well,” I say after a moment of quiet reflection. “At least now we know what we’re really fighting for.”
The others nod, and I feel our bond strengthen - not just through fate or circumstance, but through shared purpose. Life might have spent centuries crafting the perfect vessel, but she never understood what that vessel was really meant to become.
Not a weapon of destruction.
Not an agent of eternal life.
But a keeper of balance.
A force for equilibrium in a universe that desperately needs it.
The real evolution isn’t about power at all.
