“I won’t touch you then, okay, but I am staying. You’re not shifting on your own,” I tell her, fighting the urge to stifle her worry by using the bond and calling. She looks away from me.

“I said get out,” she whispered before wiping a stray tear. My heart pinched at her defeat and I knew she blamed me for this; I blamed myself.

“I will find you some clothes,” I tell her, getting up off the floor and walking out. I found her some of my clothes and set them on the bed before standing by the bathroom door and listening.

I was only met with silence and the sound of the running of the water. I knock on the door, but she doesn’t answer.

“Ivy, I am going to come in, okay,” I call out to her. I wait, but she doesn’t answer, so I gently push the door open to find her clothes scattered on the floor and her sitting in the bottom of the shower directly under the water. Her skin turned red from how hot she had changed the shower temperature.

“Ivy?” I asked, crouching beside her just outside the shower spray. She turned her head to the side so l could see her face, and her eyes glowed. Why couldn’t her shift wait one more day so I could explain?

“It’s so cold,” she murmurs, and I nod.

“Yes, then you will be hot, then cold again,” I tell her, and she nods, tucking her face back into her knees. I look at the window and click my tongue and shake my head. There was no moon high in the sky tonight.

“Come on, we can lay in front of the fireplace; I will move all the bedding over there,” I tell her holding out my hand to her. She lifts her head and looks at it.

press my lips in line that she had

will be right by your side. I’m not going anywhere, but I do need to ask a favor you probably won’t

“What is it?”

first,” I tell her. Her eyebrows pinch together before she takes my hand, and I pull her to her feet. She wraps a towel around herself, shivering and teeth chattering although her skin was flushed. I hand her one of my shirts, and she dries herself. While Ivy does, I move the furniture in front of the fireplace before dragging the mattress and blankets over. Turning to face her, she was hunched over while rummaging through the drawer for underwear. Her

her. Ivy looks over at me before retrieving a pair and slipping them on. She walks over to me before lying down closest to

much; I can read to you if you like,” she rolls over to face me. “If that was supposed to make me feel better, it didn’t,”

her, and she yawns

She pauses. “Looks like a smudge,” she

“Can I see it?”

No,” she says, rolling herself tighter in her blanket. “Why?” she

promise, I just want to

like what?”

identity,” she snorts and rolls her

what now, is my father the boogeyman

King,” she scoffs,

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