Canon Ivy Cosmic Blue Novels & Stories

From my desk, I watch her walk back into the squad room and set a cardboard box on top of the empty desk. She starts piling things out of the box (a plaque with her name on it, a framed photo, an external hard drive, three journals, a blue wireless keyboard and a blue-and-white key lanyard. She has had that lanyard since the Academy. When the box is empty, she tosses it under the desk and takes a seat, pressing the power button on the monitor.

progressive-markdown_:is(p,blockquote,ul,ol,h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6)]:pr-8"> _*]:min-w-0 gap-3 standard-markdown"> IVY The fifth of January creeps on me faster than I expect. I wake up before the alarm and for a few seconds I just lie there, blinking at the ceiling, wondering why my chest feels like something is sitting on it. Then it comes back all at once. The Dean. Today.

As I raised my hand to knock again, the door opened and there she stood…my mate. If mesmerized had a face, that would be me. She wore a dark blue gown with a deep V-neck that didn’t cover much of her delectable breasts. The thin straps almost meshed with her skin, which seemed to be glowing. Her cinnamon hair was tied at the top of her head in a bun with loose tendrils escaping as always. Without any ounce of doubt, Ivy was the most beautiful woman on this entire fucking planet. “Cora chose this dress for me,” Ivy said, biting her lip. “Do you think it’s too much?” She twirled around, and I gaped at her backless back, giving an eyeful of her milky skin and those delectable curves.

I just know that if he didn't want us, he would have immediately rejected us as his mate. Wait. Does this imply I can also reject him? She hums, and I feel her break off the mental connection in my head. I rolled my eyes. Yes, whatever. Crawl back to your hiding place in my mind. "Amelia!" A female voice yelled from behind me, and I turned to see Ivy approaching me. She wore a white off-the-shoulder shirt, fitting navy blue trousers that hugged her curvy side well, and white shoes. Her straight blonde hair was put up into a high ponytail, and it bounced off her shoulders as she went, her fair complexion shining in the sunlight. She was quite gorgeous.

The box sits on the floor between us. Ivy's hands are trembling as she peels back the tissue paper. Inside is lingerie. Dozens of pieces. Silk. Lace. Satin. Every colour imaginable—deep red, midnight blue, emerald green, pure white, and black that looks like liquid shadow. Ivy reaches in and pulls out a slip of navy silk so thin it's almost transparent. She holds it up, and it catches the light. "Oh my God," she breathes.

Ivy replied, her voice firm. Victor raised an eyebrow. "You want ice cream? Now?" Ivy nodded, her jaw set. "Yes. I want ice cream." Victor rolled his eyes. "Ivy, this isn't the time." But Ivy wouldn't budge. "I want ice cream, Victor." Victor sighed and called out to Liam, "Hey, Liam! Get her an ice cream." Liam approached the car, curious. "What flavor, miss?" Ivy's face lit up. "Vanilla chocolate chip with strawberry and chocolate syrup, and blueberry toppings."

Her scream echoed through the vaulted chamber, raw, ragged, endless. And Caelum—Caelum stood calm as stone, his palms lifted, threads of silver essence flowing into his body. His eyes glowed, his face lit with something like ecstasy. “No…” Ivy’s voice broke. She bolted forward. “MOM!” Caelum’s men surged to block her. Something inside Ivy snapped. Her eyes burned white, blinding, her scream turning into a roar that wasn’t fully anything of that world.

Ivy Thornfield strolled into our space, her inner circle following close behind like a pack of wolves. She wore the exact same violet-blue uniform, but on her, the color looked dead, drained of any light. Her friends fanned out in a semi-circle, their faces twisted into identical smirks. "Using children for publicity now, Lumira?" Ivy sneered, stopping close enough that I could smell the heavy scent of her rose perfume hiding something sour underneath. "It is a bit desperate, even for you. What is next, passing out bread to the peasants in the lower districts?"

'No matter how evil you are, Elixier my love, I'll always love you' I'm a black canvas. A paper pure white. And yes, I wanted to have color. I wanted somebody to paint me. Elixier did. But instead of coloring me with paint, he painted me with blood. Well I don't regret letting him do that. Red is a powerful color. Red stands out. Red is fierce. But fire is also red. That if it burns you, you'll turn black. Life is meaningless without him. I'd rather burn myself in the color of red in the flames as long as I'm with him, than be safe as a colorless canvas.

I look the other way entirely, wanting to distract myself from the conversation, I begin pulling at the weed growing around us and spot a peculiar blue plant. It stands out to me and I immediately recognize it from the herb book I had found a day before. “I know this leaf.” I say, pulling it out of the earth and holding it up to the light for confirmation and Ivan to see it. “It’s called Blue Angel.” I start the moment Ivan’s eyes show interest in it. “The power from this plant can be used as a highly potent truth serum that could destroy the human mind if doses aren’t regulated.” “Sounds kind of sketchy. Why’s that growing here?”