Page 3 of The Never List
“Layce’s not here yet?” I ask.
“No,you’ll have time to bathe before she brings the rest of our ‘disguises.’” Ivy laughs. “But first…” She leads me across the room and stops next to her small vanity. My mouth falls open as I take in the identical invitations laid there, with delicate gold script printed beneath a beautiful illustration of an intricate mask.
The Kings of Lumathyst
Present
The Choosing Ceremony
Hosted for the Legends of Chaos
Exchanging this invitation for an entry pin upon arrival at the royal palace constitutes a binding contract between yourself and the Legends of Chaos. By agreeing to participate in the Choosing, you are givingenthusiastic consentto intimate acts with one or all four of the Legends of Chaos if chosen as a mate. If you aren’t comfortable with these terms, do not accept a numbered pin at the gate and enjoy the festivities.
“‘Enthusiastic consent,’” Ivy says in a singsong voice.
I run my fingers over the invitation, noting the thickness of the cardstock as I turn it back and forth. The gold-and-black ink glimmers under the lights. Itfeelsexpensive, like the kings infused it with stardust. With their power and wealth? They probably did.
“Are you going toenthusiastically consent?” Ivy asks as she waters the dozen or so plants that fill her small space.
I set the invitation on her vanity and smile at her.
“Absolutely,” I say with enough sarcasm to make her laugh. “Who wouldn’t leap at the chance to sleep with four men at once?” I stick to teasing despite—or perhaps because of—the truth rattling inside me. Ihavethought about the possibility of having to uphold the contract, allowed the fantasy to play out in my mind. I’m not opposed to the idea. It’s likely theforbiddennessof it all that intrigues me; it’s only innocent daydreaming.
“These aren’t justanymen,” Ivy says. “They’re the Legends of Chaos. The part-god royal princes of Lumathyst. Letting them have their way with you?” She shudders as she moves on to the next plant.
“Oh, come on,” I tease. “Wouldn’t you be curious?” I bite my lip, my mind wandering down a delightful path that has nothing to do with what’s at stake tonight—my life, my sister’s. Thinking about this is easier than all of that.
I’ve only seen paintings of the Legends and the kings, splashed on posters plastered around the Ashlands to ensure we remember who we bow to. The royal artist painted them as formidable men with mysterious smiles and vibrant eyes. Powerful beings capable of weakening knees and stealing breaths.
Four at once…a warm shiver races across my skin.
“There is a fine line between curiosity and self-destruction,” Ivy says, pulling me back to the moment. “You’ve heard the rumors,” she continues. “Just last week, I heard a story about the Dreamer flying a man up to the tallest building in the Ruby Aire because he stole from one of his beloved shops. The enforcers said he dropped him and caught him over and over again before the other Legendsjoined in.” Ivy shudders. “The Mind manipulated the man’s reality, making him see nothing but his worst fears, and the Nightmare twisted his emotions to match.”
I swallow hard. “I heard that one, too. They said the Player almost drowned him in a sphere of water he controlled.”
“See?” Ivy says, holding her watering can to her chest. “Curiosity and self-destruction,” she reiterates. “Not to mention, the stories about the Nightmare’s Playroom are renowned. They say he delights in chaining women up for days, playing with them only when he feels like it.”
An image takes shape in my mind: me in chains with no purpose other than to be used for pleasure. Social classes don’t matter when you’re stripped down that bare. A drop of heat lands in my belly at the thought, but I quickly force it away.
Maybe someday, I’ll have time to look for the kind of lover who can make me feel safe and excited, understood and destroyed all at once. Someone I can be myself around and trust with all my heart’s desires.
A fool’s dream, but it’s one I can’t deny. Add it to the list of dreams that aren’t meant to be mine.
Ivy comes to stand next to me and glances down at the invitations on the vanity, a glimmer of pride shining in her eyes.
I motion toward my identical invitation sitting next to herrealone. “That is some of your best work, Ivy.”
She beams at me but shrugs as she reaches out to touch a Strelitzia plant that’s drooping in its pot. Her red nails gleam as she twirls her fingers, and the plant perks up like it’s taking a much-needed deep breath. The neon orangepetals brighten and bloom with restored life.
She lowers her hand. “I would saythatis some of my best work. But you know I adore compliments, so please, do go on.”
I laugh, admiring it. Not the forgery that’s her secondary passion but heractualgoddess-given power.
Power that neither she nor I are supposed to have. Power that could get us arrested if anyone outside our little trusted circle knew about it. But I guess you can say that’s what brought us together in the first place.
I met Ivy when I was young. I’d crossed over the Ashland border, sneaking into Leaf and Claw, desperate to breathe air that didn’t leave the taste of dust on my tongue. My older sister, Erin, had warned me not to go in broad daylight, but I’d known if I spent another minute carting ore from the Ashlands’ mines, I would explode. In that moment, I didn’t even care if the kings’ enforcers caught me and threw me in the royal prisons. Ineededsomething new and vibrant and fresh.
And that’s exactly what I got. I ran into a secluded little glen and saw a girl my age surrounded by wildflowers. I stopped at the tree line, thinking I’d been caught, but she didn’t notice me at first. As I watched, I realized the wildflowers weregrowingbefore my eyes—the girl was making them bloom and spread with magic. I still remember how wide her eyes had gone when she heard my gasp of surprise, how quickly she’d leaped atop me, ready to pummel me if I threatened to expose her secret. Little did she know, I was hiding the same one: we were both demis.
