Page 52 of Wild Ivy
“It doesn’t work that way. The souls won’t remember their past lives. Or most of them won’t. Some will be born into bodies that can commune with their pasts. Not many, though.”
“Trust my luck, he will be one of them,” he grumbles.
I take his hand and kiss it. “Well, if he is, we will deal with it and him.”
He nods and says, “Let’s go home. Back to ours this time.”
The walk back to their house is surreal and necessary. I want to take in everything that has changed, and I want the guys to see it as well. Every step reveals new aspects of the world I never could perceive before. The trees whisper stories of centuriespast, the ground beneath our feet pulses with ley lines of power, and the air is alive with possibility.
Bram moves through patches of shadow like they’re doorways, appearing a few steps ahead and then waiting for us to catch up. Torin’s chaos magick leaves pink sparkling trails in the air as he walks, and Tate’s new markings shift and swirl with each movement, responding to the energy around us.
When we finally reach the guys’ house, we step inside.
We head straight for the kitchen, and I watch Tate move around, pulling out ingredients. His new power is evident in every gesture. Even something as simple as making breakfast has taken on an almost ritualistic quality.
“Bacon, eggs and toast okay with everyone?” he calls out.
“More than,” I reply, my mouth watering already as the sizzle of bacon has never sounded so good.
We each retreat into our own thoughts as we set the table and wait for the food to be ready.
Soon, Tate sets four plates heaped with bacon, eggs, and toast on the kitchen table. The smell is heavenly, and we dig in ravenously, barely speaking as we devour the food.
Between bites, I observe my guys. They’ve changed, not just in power, but in essence. Bram’s shadows seem deeper, more alive. Torin’s chaos magick sparkles around him even when he’s not actively using it. The marks on Tate’s skin shift and dance, telling stories I can almost read.
As I finish the last bite of toast, I lean back in my chair with a contented sigh. “That was amazing. Thank you, Tate.”
He smiles, but there’s an intensity in his gaze that wasn’t there before. “You look exhausted,” he says. “You should get some rest.”
I nod and stand up. “We all should.”
As we head upstairs to the bedroom, everything that has happened comes crashing down at once.
We strip down and climb into bed, our bodies naturally gravitating towards each other. I end up sandwiched between Tate and Bram, with Torin at my feet. The physical contact is grounding, reminding me that despite all the cosmic changes, this—us—remains constant.
“Sleep,” Bram murmurs, his arm draped over my waist. “We’ll figure out the rest when we wake up.”
I close my eyes, letting the exhaustion take over.
28
IVY
Despite my exhaustion,sleep proves elusive after the first hour or so. I toss and turn in the bed, surrounded by my guys but feeling strangely disconnected. My mind races with everything that’s happened, everything that’s changed. The power coursing through my veins won’t let me rest.
Finally, I give up and slip out of bed, careful not to wake the guys. I pad barefoot through the house in one of Torin’s black tees, and to the kitchen, opening up the back door and breathing slowly. The night air is cool against my skin as I settle into one of the garden chairs, pulling my knees up to my chest.
The sky above is alive with stars, and I close my eyes, reaching out with my new senses. I feel the ebb and flow of life and death on a cosmic scale.
“Can’t sleep?”
I open my eyes to find Bram leaning against the doorframe, shadows clinging to him like a second skin.
“Too much going on up here,” I tap my temple with a wry smile. “How about you?”
He shrugs, moving to sit beside me. “Same. It’s a lot to process.”
We sit in companionable silence for a while, watching the light show in the sky.
