it up, all I had to do was hold my hands over the dirt...”
Ivy trailed off and lifted her hands out of the water, touching her index fingers and thumbs together to form a triangle, still staring off into the distance as memories rolled through her mind.
Ivy gave wet laugh, a spill of happy tears slipping down her cheeks as she blinked and came back to herself, turning to look at him with amazement.
“She told me to hold my hands out and imagine my pretty flower pushing up and up and up, right out of the dirt to meet me. The delphiniums shot up with a puff of wet dirt, and I was so excited I started shrieking.
“After that, I went wild, throwing seeds and running around in circles yelling for the flowers to wake up. The entire garden was covered in a blanket of wild flowers.”
Uriah couldn't help but smile back, imagining Ivy as a wild little girl running through a riot of flowers in her mother's garden. “No spells? No incantations or lunar calendars involved?”
Ivy splashed him in reprimand. “No, none of that. Not even a potion.”
“Do you remember your father?”
Some of the power in her smile faded as she shook her head, sitting up to fold her arms around her legs, propping her chin on her knees. “It was always just us. What about you? What's your family like?”
Uriah grimaced, but it was with the understanding that now he and Ivy had even more in common than he’d thought.
“I don’t have much family left. Just a few cousins who I rarely ever talk to. My parents were killed when I was a teenager.”
Ivy slipped her hand into his, holding on tight with a sympathetic murmur of understanding. “Do you want a family? Kids?”
The grin that split his face felt huge. “Someday, definitely. You?”
Her face got soft and dreamy, which was more than enough of an answer for him. “Someday.”
Her gaze strayed over his shoulder, and again, her smile slipped as she caught sight of her mother's journal.
“There was a really bad storm the week before my mom took me to Haggara. We usually went outside and played in the rain when it stormed, but something was different about that time. One night it was really bad.
“Rain came down so hard I worried the roof might cave in. It was dark when she put me in the car, and we drove for what felt like days to get to Haggara. When we got there, the Headmistress was waiting.
“She was so scary, tall and thin, with this nose that made her look like an angry bird. My mom told me I was going to go to school from now on, and when I realized it wasn't the kind of school where she'd pick me up and bring me home every day, I threw a tantrum. Screaming and crying turned to begging.
“I thought I'd been bad, that I'd done something wrong... she carried me into the Headmistress's office, and they must have done their spell because I forgot... I forgot everything except that she'd died and I never... I never saw her again!”
Ivy cried painful sobs that hurt to hear. Even knowing she needed to purge the emotions surging through her, Uriah couldn't stand it. Clothes and all, he climbed into the bath behind her and held her through the worst of it, wondering if the tub would overflow with her heartbreaking tears.
The water was cold by the time Ivy's crying subsided, and she was so weak she could barely keep herself from sliding down into the tub when he got out to strip and get her a towel. It was a clumsy fumble, but Uriah got her dried off and carried her to bed.
She passed out before he even got the blankets pulled up over her, and for a good long while he sat beside her, wondering if it would be wrong of him to read her mother's journal first.
If Ilsa Greene had left a detailed record of the days leading up to her murder, maybe he could soften the blow, protect Ivy from whatever painful truths she might learn. But even as he considered it, Uriah knew it was the wrong choice.
Too many truths had been softened or concealed to protect Ivy, and all it had caused was self-doubt, loathing, and loneliness.
No, he would wait and be there for his mate, come what may.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Ivy woke up to the mouthwatering taste of something rich and savory in the