The Witching Hour

Chapter 34 - Conviction

The only thing keeping Ivy upright were the roots encircling her wrists. Her eyes bulged out of her skull as the figure slid into the room. She couldn't believe what she saw.

"Hey babe." Hunter met her glare with a wry smile.

"Babe? Babe?" Ivy seethed, chest heaving up and down. "You have the audacity to call me babe while holding hands with that...bitch?"

The same gaze that once adored Ivy, that resembled the same coffee he drank every morning, now took on a sinister tint. Leaving Queen Tatiana's side, he approached the torch, flames licking his high cheekbones and morphing into him an unrecognizable man. Her Hunter still stood in front of her, but this was not the Hunter that she loved and slept next to every night.

Queen Tatiana giggled, rubbing her hands together. She joined Hunter's side, resting a hand on his shoulder.

"As much as I'd love to see this lovers' quarrel, I must be off. I think you'll find this quite enlightening." Chuckling, she leaned closer to his ear keeping her glare on Ivy. "Even days later, she still reeks of the mutt," Queen Tatiana hissed, the sneer never leaving her face.

Hunter's lips curled into a snarl, his eyes growing darker. Ivy shrunk against the wall in an attempt to make herself smaller. She almost feared him over the queen. Scorned lovers couldn't help but be unpredictable.

Queen Tatiana spared one last smug glance before exiting the same door her boyfriend had entered through. Once it closed, Hunter dropped the act, the snarl vanishing from his visage.

"Are you okay?" His words came out fast as he rushed to her side. With a flick of his writs, the roots slithered into the dirt walls. "Did they hurt you?"

He put his hands out, but Ivy used her freedom to bolt from his reach. She rubbed her raw wrists, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. At the pain or his betrayal, she couldn't say. Rejection lingered in Hunter's irises for a half second before they glossed over with the same ambivalence fairies were known for.

"You don't get to pretend like you care when you got me into this mess." Ivy crossed her arms over her puffed out chest. "What the literal fuck is going on? Why are you with the fairies?"

Hunter grew rigid under her severe glare and turned away with a sigh. "I haven't been completely honest with you – "

The flick of the wrist, the roots disappearing.

Ivy had her answer.

"You're a fucking fairy?" she screeched, the dirt absorbing the high-pitched sound. At least she wasn't in a concrete cage. She wanted to jump on him and shake him senseless. If she had her vines, she could only imagine what she'd do to him.

His face froze, eyes and mouth wide like a dear caught in headlights. Ivy didn't need to see his face to know his mind searched for a response.

"Yes," he admitted sheepishly, his coffee-colored irises peeking out from under his lids.

In a normal situation, she would have swooned at the look he gave her. More often than not, it led to them spending hours in bed. Now, it revolted her.

Ivy stepped forward, pushing back the hurt that threatened to bubble over. "Has this," she motioned between them, "all been a lie? Was I just a part of a scheme to you?"

"Not at all!" Hunter jumped toward her, taking her hands in his. He ran his thumbs over her knuckles. "No, you weren't just a mark."

"Because this sure feels like an undercover operation straight out of the Russian playbook in The Americans," Ivy snapped, yanking her hands back.