Page 77 of Torn Ivy
“It’s beautiful,” she murmurs, watching as the serpent winds its way up her arm. Its scales shimmer with a mystical iridescence, shifting colours in the light.
“Ivy, don’t move,” I say cautiously. “We don’t know what it’s capable of.”
But she doesn’t seem to hear me. Her eyes are locked on the serpent as it makes its way to her shoulder. Then, to our horror, it begins to slither around her neck.
“Ivy!” Torin grits out, taking a step forward.
She holds up a hand, stopping him. “Don’t,” she says. “It’s mine.”
“What do you mean, it’s yours?” I ask carefully.
Ivy strokes the serpent’s head, a serene smile on her face, but she doesn’t answer me. It’s like she doesn’t even hear me.
Torin and I exchange worried glances. This can’t be good. I glance around for Tate, but he is nowhere to be found.
That snake is Ancient Fae magick, black and unpredictable. Having it bonded to Ivy can’t be a good thing.
“Maybe we should try to remove it,” Torin suggests cautiously.
Ivy’s eyes flash with sudden anger. “No! You can’t take it from me. It’s mine.”
The vehemence in her voice takes us all aback. This isn’t the Ivy we know. Her tone and her possessiveness over this dangerous creature are all wrong.
“Ivy,” I say carefully, “That snake came from the ritual to bring you back. We don’t know what kind of magick it possesses or what it might do to you. Please, let us remove it safely.”
She glares at me, her eyes flashing with purple light. “You don’t understand. It’s part of me now. I need it.”
The snake tightens its coils around her neck, but Ivy shows no signs of distress. If anything, she seems comforted by its presence.
“What do you mean, it’s part of you?” Torin asks, his voice tight with concern.
Ivy strokes the serpent’s scales, a dreamy smile on her face. “It knows me. All of me, across every dimension. It’s the only thing that feels right.”
A chill runs down my spine at her words. This creature seems to have latched onto the scattered fragments of Ivy’s essence that we pulled back together. But at what cost?
“Ivy,” Cathy says gently, “I know everything feels confusing right now. But that snake could be dangerous. Please, let us help you.”
For a moment, Ivy’s expression wavers, uncertainty flickering in her eyes. But then the snake hisses softly, and she shakes her head.
“No,” she says firmly. “It stays with me.”
We stare at her, at a loss for words. If we try to remove that snake from her grasp, she will fight us, that much is clear.
The question is, what hold does it have on her, and how the fuck can we break it?
38
TATE
I stand in the kitchen,staring blankly out the window as the others fuss over Ivy and that strange snake. I know I should care. I know this situation is dangerous and disturbing. But I feel nothing about anything. Apathetic is the word.
It’s like looking at the world through foggy glass. Everything is muted, distant. The panic in Torin and Bram’s voices as they try to reason with Ivy in the other room about the snake barely registers.
Torin and Bram seem to think I loved Ivy once and gave that up, but I can’t remember. It’s not just a feeling of love lost… it’s totally gone, as if it never existed in the first place. Right now, I just don’t feel much of anything at all.
A small part of me understands that this should be terrifying. The Tate I was before, knowing all of this, would systematically try to remember, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. But that Tate is gone, leaving behind this hollow shell.
My gaze drifts to the scorched ritual circle, and I wonder absently what will happen to us. What we did was probably illegal. Even though we succeeded in bringing Ivy back, at what cost was it? To her, to all of us?
