Page 8 of Hero of Havoc

The atmosphere is charged without a single word being spoken, charged with an energy I can’t work out as it twists around my neck, choking my senses, my pulse ringing in my ears.

“Yes,” he admits, his chin threatening to drop to his chest, but he manages to keep his head up as I purse my lips. “Ivy,” he starts, but I lift my hand and finally rise from my seat.

I sidestep him, anticipating an attempt to hold me back, but to my surprise, he doesn't.

I’m halfway across the room before I glance back at him.

Determination, anger, and righteous indignation burn through me, making it clear that no matter how much exhaustion clings to me, my night isn't done yet.

“Call a meeting,” I blurt, and his eyebrows gather.

“What?”

“Now.”

I turn away from him, moving toward the door, when my name is but a breath on his lips.

“Ivy.”

“Call a meeting,” I repeat, narrowing my eyes as I peer over my brother once again, watching intently as he sighs. He stuffs his hands in his pockets as he shakes his head.

“You don't get to call a meeting,” he explains softly, and I level him with a deathly stare.

“Call a meeting, Hugo.”

“Ivy,” he warns, but I’m done repeating myself.

“Now, Hugo,” I hiss, eliminating the rest of the distance between me and the exit, and as my hand curls around the handle, his question makes me pause.

“Where?”

I don't have time to think over the answer, I just say the first thing that comes to mind. “The arena.”

He nods, defeat lowering his shoulders as he clears his throat. “Let someone⁠—”

“If you finish that sentence with some bullshit about not going alone, I'll hit you with a roundhouse kick to the face,” I promise, glaring at him, and I don't miss the way his throat bobs as he nods.

Refusing to hang around any longer, I storm out into the hallway, only for my feet to stutter. I spy my hated mates crowding my father at the opposite end of the hallway. Adrenaline spikes through my veins, and I take off to my right, in the opposite direction.

I move, unscathed in my heels, bewildered by the fact that they’re still tied around my ankles after the carnage I’ve already navigated, but the fleeting thought is quickly disregarded as the cool night air ghosts over my skin and I lurch to a stop, slamming the door shut behind me.

A soft exhale falls from my lips, a grumble rippling through me when I don’t feel my temperature drop.

“Ivy.”

I startle at my name, hearing the panic flicker through the caller’s voice, and I glance over my shoulder to spy Sax on the other side of the windowed door. I move on instinct, wrapping my fingers around the door handle as pulsing heat burns through my veins.

I don't know who's more startled, me or him, as heat melts the handle, trapping him firmly on the other side.

It’s not my action that surprises me, but the fact that it worked on the first try.

“Ivy,” he croaks, banging his hand on the glass, and I shake my head, taking off down the path without another look.

My plan isn't to stop him, or any of them; I know it’s impossible. I’m just employing a simple delay tactic.

Following the winding path, I let my steps slow and the night air guide me.

Any concept of time betrays me, but the air is wistful, with the essence of dawn teetering on the horizon.