p; I sat up as my heart lodged itself in my throat. I waited there for a moment, and then the knock came again. Jumping to my feet, I hurried over to the door and stretched up, peering through the peephole.
"Oh my God," I whispered.
Although it was dark, I could make out Ren's profile. He was standing sideways, his head tipped back, and I thought maybe his eyes were closed. Ren was here—he was actually here, and I couldn't believe it.
And I was just standing there, my palms pressed flat against the door, my mouth hanging open, looking like a complete goober.
I glanced down the hall to make sure the door to Tink's room was closed. As I opened the door, I hoped Tink stayed in there.
Ren turned, lowering his chin and dropping his hands from his hips. He was drenched from the rain, the shirt clinging to his body, his hair a wet mess. Our eyes collided and held. Lightning cut through the sky behind him, casting his features in an eerie glow before it fizzled out.
He placed his hands on the doorframe and leaned in as his chest rose with a broad inhale. "If you tell me to leave, I'll turn and walk away. I swear that, Ivy, but I had to try one more time. I'm not going to possibly go to my grave without trying. Please. Don't let me go."
Shaken by how closely his words matched my own thoughts, I didn't move for what felt like forever, and then I did. As if I were in a dream, I stepped aside, allowing him in.
Acute shock splashed across his striking features. He must've thought I'd slam the door in his face. After all, that was what I did, and I was good at it. It was probably the one thing I was best at doing.
I was rather tired of excelling at it.
Ren walked in, and I closed the door behind him with trembling hands. I didn't look at him, but he was standing close enough that I shivered, almost able to feel him. So many thoughts raced through me.
Neither of us spoke for several moments, and then I exhaled a shaky breath. What I said, it came from the darkest part of me. Words I'd never spoken to anyone before, and never thought that I would.
"I'm the reason why Shaun was killed," I said, barely above a whisper. "I got him killed and I got my adoptive parents killed. Their deaths were my fault."
He inhaled sharply. "Ivy, I don't think—"
"You don't understand." My voice was flat and I closed my eyes. "It really was my fault. I did something so stupid, so fucking stupid."
There was a moment, and then he said, "I would like to try to understand then."
I almost laughed, but then I figured if I did, it would sound slightly crazed. If I told Ren how incredibly reckless I'd been, he probably would walk right back out this door. I wouldn't blame him. One could never go past the acceptable level of stupidity, and I'd blown right on by that unspoken line.
Sometimes stupidity killed.
Like the people who thought one more drink didn't mean they couldn't drive. Or the ones who thought sending one quick text while driving wouldn't end with them smacking into someone head on. All bad, stupid decisions.
Mine was pretty epic, all things considered.
"I was two weeks shy of turning eighteen, and I'd already taken the mark of the Order. I know that's not common, but Holly had talked to the sect. Shaun was getting his done and I . . . I wanted mine. They agreed. I don't know what about taking the mark made us feel like we could actually begin hunting. I mean, we'd been training since forever, but none of that mattered. We were young and dumb, I guess."
Opening my eyes, I edged past Ren and walked to the French doors. "Three nights before my birthday, I was supposed to meet Shaun at this restaurant in the city, and I'd dressed up for it. You know, being cute, and instead of wearing the clover necklace, I put on this silver chain thing because it matched the dress." I laughed then, and it sounded harsh. "I left the house without a clover. Seriously. Darwinism at its finest. I guess I thought I wouldn't run across any fae, and maybe I wouldn't have if Shaun and I hadn't been hunting before we were supposed to. We didn't know that once we hunted—"
"You can easily become the hunted," he finished quietly for me.
I nodded as I traced a raindrop down the glass with my finger. Most fae stayed away from the Order, wouldn't dare track one home. I assumed the ancients would probably be different, but Shaun and I had looked as young as we were. One glance at us, and the fae knew we were untrained. "We just didn't think about the fact that if we were engaging fae, we could be seen by other fae, you know? How incredibly stupid was that? Anyway, I left the house and I was almost to the train station. I was going to catch a way into the city through the metro, and I saw a fae. She must've recognized me, because all I remember is her making a beeline for me at the station, right in public, and before I could do anything—which was nothing, because I didn't even have a stake with me . . . I'm sure you can guess what happened next."
Ren didn't answer for a moment. "The fae compelled you?"
"Yeah," I whispered, leaning back against the door. I finally looked at him, and his expression cut through me like a blade. Sorrow dampened his eyes to a mossy green, his lips pinched with bleakness. "You know, I guess it's why I can relate to Merle. She made a dumb choice, went out unprotected. I don't know what happened to her. No one really talks about the details, and I think in a way I was lucky. Not those around me, but I was."
"Ivy," he said softly.
"I don't really remember much after her telling me to take her to my house, and all I do remember was that I was back home, in my living room. I remember seeing Adrian lying on the floor . . ."
Pushing away from the wall, I walked to the back of the couch. A ball formed in my throat. "He was dead, stabbed with his own stake, and for a second I thought I'd done it, but there was no blood on me. His blood was on the fae, and Holly was in the kitchen. So much was being broken." I frowned as the noises of the night resurfaced. Wood splintering. China shattering. The screaming. "I tried to help. The fae—she practically put me through a wall, and Holly . . . she dropped her guard. She came for me, and the fae sneaked up behind her. Snapped her neck."
I didn't realize I was crying until I felt the dampness on my cheeks. I swiped at the tears angrily as I backed away. "Then Shaun showed up, looking for me, and the things she did to him. She didn't outright kill him. No. She toyed with him. Didn't even feed on him or Holly or Adrian. But after she was done with Shaun, she did feed on me."
With measured steps, Ren walked around the couch, approaching. "Honey . . ."
I kept backing away. "Have you ever been fed on?"
He shook his head.
"It hurts at first. Like your insides are being pulled out, and then it stops, and it really doesn't hurt anymore. She probably would've drained me if one of Adrian's friends hadn't shown up—another Order member. They never figured out how the fae got in the house or why it was there. Like we all know, it was unheard of for them to come after Order members, and I never told them the truth. I was so ashamed, and I knew if I did, they would've kicked me out. So instead of them rightfully scorning me, they all felt sorry for me." Humiliation stung my skin. "I think . . . I think Shaun and I killed her partner. She kept mentioning his name. Nairn. I don't know. I guess that part doesn't matter." I paused, sliding my hands over my cheeks as I stared at the floor. "I don't even know why I'm telling you any of this. It's not a justification for how I behaved toward you this morning or earlier. It's not an excuse and I don't expect you—"
"I get it. I know you're not making excuses, but I get it." Ren continued toward me. "God, Ivy . . ."
"I don't want your pity or for you to tell me it wasn't my fault. That's not why I told you." My back hit the wall behind me and the pain of that throbbed inside me. "So don't lie to me."
"Okay. I won't lie to you." When I started to sidestep him, he caught my hands and held them between us. "You made a shit choice when you were seventeen years old. God knows I made some shit choices when I was that age."
"It's not the same."
"It's not? My best friend was killed and I did next t
o nothing to stop it. No," he interrupted when I started to disagree. "You can't tell me my situation is different, and I have no reason to feel guilt over what happened to my friend if you can't forgive yourself. Maybe neither of us can truly forgive ourselves. Sometimes we do things or we enable things to happen that we can never go back and change. Maybe our shit choices aren't truly forgivable, and the only thing we can do is learn from them and not make them again."
Breathing became hard as the knot in my throat expanded. "I . . . I've lost everyone I loved." My voice broke, and his stark expression wavered. "I've lost everyone."
"Do you really ever lose anyone, Ivy? They may be gone, but they still exist." My lips trembled as I struggled to keep myself under control. He brought my hands to his chest, above his heart. "They still live here. They always will."
I could feel the hold on my control snapping, one fragile strain at a time. I started to pull away, but he let go of my hands and clasped my upper arms. "Ren . . ."
"I'm still here." He dipped his head, his eyes meeting mine. "You haven't lost me."
"But what if—"
"Sweetness, you can't hold your life back on a bunch of what ifs. Who the hell knows what could happen? Either one of us could