Page 79 of Wild Ivy
“Did you not just hear what I said? We need to make sure every hit aligns with our new objectives. Pull them back.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The room buzzes with whispered conversations and uncertain glances. I can feel the tension, fear, and curiosity. Some are excited by the prospect of change, others wary of what it might mean for their positions.
“One more thing,” I add, my voice dropping to a dangerous purr. “If I catch wind of anyone going rogue, taking unapproved contracts on the side, or leaking information about these changes... well, let’s just say I don’t take kindly to traitors.”
The temperature in the room drops several degrees as I let a bit of Death show. Good. Let them stew on that for a while.
“Any questions?” I ask sweetly.
The room remains silent, as expected.
“Excellent. Now, get back to work. You’ve got a lot of reassessing to do,” I say, letting the Death glamour fade.
As they get back to work, Ramsey smiles at me. “Well, that went better than expected. No outright rebellion.”
I snort. “Give it time. There’s always one idiot who thinks they can challenge authority.”
“And when they do?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.
I give him a wicked grin. “Then they’ll learn why Death isn’t just a fancy title.”
Ramsey shakes his head, but he’s smiling. “Remind me never to get on your bad side.”
“As if you could,” I say, bumping his shoulder with mine.
We watch as the bunker slowly returns to its usual hum of activity, though there’s a new undercurrent of tension. Change is never easy, especially for an organisation as set in its ways as The Syndicate. But it’s necessary.
41
BRAM
The shadowsaround Thornfield sing with new voices now. Whispers that would have concerned me a month ago, but now feel as natural as breathing. I stand at the edge of the forest, letting my enhanced senses spread outward. The darkness isn’t just an absence of light anymore; it’s a living thing, a fundamental force that responds to my will like an eager pet.
I hold out my hand, watching as shadows coalesce into solid form. First a sphere, then a blade, then something more complex. A three-dimensional map of the academy grounds forms in my palm, every building and tree rendered in perfect detail by the interplay of light and dark. The wild magick that once belonged to Morrigan has evolved into something far more primal. It doesn’t just shape reality; it reveals the spaces between realities.
“Show me,” I whisper, and the shadows respond instantly. They spread out like ink in water, highlighting every living being on campus in shades of grey and black. I can see their life forces, their connections to each other, and the way they interact with the fabric of reality itself. In one corner, Tate practises with his ancestral power, each burst of energy leaving ripplesin the darkness. Near the main building, Torin’s vampire-mage signature burns like a cold star.
“Impressive,” Morrigan’s voice drifts from the darkness. “You’ve mastered more in days than most would in centuries.”
She materialises like smoke condensing into her human form. Her presence is familiar and strange. Less solid, more ethereal. The power that once made her a goddess has transformed, just as I have.
“I thought you were bound to MistHallow’s grounds now,” I say, letting the shadow map dissolve back into darkness. “I felt it.”
She laughs and shrugs. “You called to me. I’m here. Show me what else you’ve learned.”
I flex my fingers, feeling the shadows respond. This time, I reach deeper, tapping into the essence of darkness itself. The shadows around us thicken, becoming almost solid. Then I step into them—not just moving through them like before—but becoming one with them.
My consciousness expands, spreading through every shadow on campus. I can see everything, feel everything. Every dark corner, every unlit space, becomes an extension of my awareness. It’s intoxicating and terrifying at the same time.
“Very good,” Morrigan murmurs. “But can you maintain control while divided?”
I accept her challenge. While keeping my shadow-sense extended, I begin manipulating the darkness around us. Shapes emerge as wolves made of living shadow, birds that take flight on wings of pure darkness. Each creation moves independently, yet remains connected to my will.
“You knew this would happen,” I say, letting my consciousness snap back to my physical form while maintaining the shadow constructs. “You knew the power would change me.”
“Goddess of fate as well. Did you forget?” She reaches out to touch one of the shadow wolves. It nuzzles her hand before dissolving. “The power was never truly mine to begin with. It isn’t truly yours. You will pass it on one day. That is the circle now.”
