My tears had slowed to nothing as I reached up, carefully placing my hand against his face, touching him in a way I had never done before. His skin was soft and smooth.
“You’re all right,” I gasped out, the words almost washed away with my tears.
“I am all right,” he affirmed, his accent thicker than I had ever heard it. Ilyan pulled me to him, his lips pressing roughly against my forehead before he buried me into his chest. The scarred chest.
“I will never leave you, Silnỳ.” His voice caught and I could tell he was crying, too.
We stayed like that, my tears falling over his chest while his mingled into my hair, our joy at seeing one another again settling in.
Slowly I began to come back to myself, the rough scars on his chest coming into my line of sight.
I reached up to trace the lines with my fingertips, my heart unsure about such close and intimate contact.
“I’m sorry that the water hurt you.” I continued to trace the raised scars, the skin rough under my fingertips. The white scars zigzagged over his chest, no longer as angry as the red they had originally been.
He stiffened underneath me.
“So they showed you then?” His voice was taut and I could hear the fear behind it. I didn’t want him to be scared. I pushed my head against his chest, the wild thumping of his heart fluttering in my ear.
“Yes.”
His heart continued to pound as he hesitated; as he decided what to say to me.
“I am glad I have them, the scars. They have always been a reminder of what I may someday have.”
“I know.” My voice was soft.
“And... you are not mad at me?”
I hesitated. I wasn’t sure how to phrase this; how to say what needed to be said. I pulled away, my eyes meeting his as he searched mine for any signs of what was to come.
“I’m not mad,” I said, as I reached up—hesitant to touch his face, to trace his features—before withdrawing again, leaving him untouched.
“But why not?” I could understand his confusion, however there was something very important that I needed him to understand.
“Because I love you too, Ilyan.” His face lit up, yet my heart only cinched tighter at what I was about to say. “But it doesn’t change anything. We can never be together.”
I thought for sure I would have shattered his heart. Instead, the radical light that emanated off him grew, his magic flaring until I could feel it push against my barrier. His smile grew and he pulled me back into him, his arms wrapping me tightly to him.
“I know, Joclyn. I know it doesn’t change anything. I know I can never have you. I am alright with that. I expect nothing from you, but hearing you say it, even if it is only this once, that is enough for me. I can live the rest of my life knowing that you love me, even if nothing else will come of it, because I know I am not alone in this world.”
Ilyan sighed heavily and I felt his tears fall against my skin, my own not far behind. I could still vividly recall his heartbreak as he had talked to my father, his longing as he had watched the images of us; the images that would never be. I wanted to soothe him, my soul longing to heal those pains.
“You are not alone, Ilyan,” I whispered. “Not anymore.”
“Thank you, Joclyn.”
I buried my face into his chest, his warmth and his heartbeat surrounding me. My heart swelled at the comfort he gave me. Thom had been right, I needed someone to help me to hold the weight, and there, in Ilyan’s arms, I actually felt stronger—like I could accomplish anything. Besides, even though nothing could ever happen between us, I knew the devotion we held for each other would be enough.
Until the day I died.
One Hundred
Ryland
“If this is what you had to show me, Cail, then I already approve.”
I recoiled against my father’s voice, the deep boom grinding against his incessant laughter that always lived in my head. I winced and pressed myself into the corner again, not wanting Cail to turn on me again. My body ached just sitting here, and everything was fuzzy thanks to the swollen skin around my eyes. I didn’t think I could take anymore.
‘Why do you think you have a choice?’
“Whatever you have done to him is beautiful.” He stepped closer, his fingers pressing painfully against the swollen skin. I winced and I clung to the wall more, which only caused the two to laugh. “It is beautiful, Master, I agree, but it is not why I have called you here.”
“What is it?” Edmunds voice darkened as he rounded on him, both of them leaving me to cry and sob on my own.
“I have found the way to complete your plan.”
“You have?”
The greasy Trpaslík was smiling now. “Yes. The way to the Tȍuha is clear.”
Tȍuha? What was he… oh god… no.
No…
‘Yes.’
I winced, trying to pull my magic inside of myself, trying to cover the line that I had tried so hard to keep protected. Even when I didn’t know what it was I was protecting I had kept it safe. But this time I couldn’t reach it. I couldn’t shield it.
Cail’s magic was everywhere. He had found it.
“Yes, I actually stumbled upon something a few days ago,” Cail continued. “I didn’t know what it was at first… but I can see it now.”
I chanced a glance up to the two men, both of them smiling, both of them looking right at me, towering over me like the monsters they were.
“I am glad, Cail.” Edmund said, his eyes still on me. “But what does this give us beyond what the soul's blade has? We already have a connection to her.”
“Yes,” Cail clicked his tongue and my body and mind shifted, his magic controlling me again as everything became fuzzy and I was forced to stand. “But with the two of them together, master, we will not only have a connection. We will have control.”
“Control? Explain.”
I stood there, watching the two as they stared at me with the same look they always did. Like I was their shiny new pet.
“You want to break her mind as we are breaking Ryland’s. And while I can with just the use of the blade, it will take longer. With both the Tȍuha and the blade, I believe I can control her the way I do Ryland. I can not only infiltrate her mind. I can bring it to us.”
I wanted to fight them. I wanted to scream and rage and tell them that they couldn’t. I wouldn’t let them. But the words couldn’t come. I couldn’t even move. I just stood there, staring, slowly forgetting who they were talking about anyway.
“Wonderful.”
One Hundred One
Joclyn
Ilyan did not move from my side all night. We lay in each other’s arms until we drifted to sleep; Ilyan was there when I woke from yet another nightmare, his song soft in my ear.
He was awake. He was alive. He was well.
That alone pulled me into a deep sleep, having him there just made it better.
I woke up the next morning with his arms still around me, our legs intertwined comfortably. I knew I should move away. I knew it was wrong for us to be lying like this, but I didn’t care.
I twisted in his arms and smiled at the serenity in his sleeping face. Even though he was asleep, I could feel his magic’s strong presence in my shoulder, the gentle lull of it as small tendrils weaved throughout my body. He would be there for me no matter what. If the sight had not given me enough proof, what I was feeling now was more than enough
I sighed heavily and shifted closer, cursing my sore, creaking joints. I hadn’t entered the Tȍuha yesterday because of the sight; if I didn’t go in now, today would be a miserable day.
I pulled the necklace out from underneath my torn shirt and let it rest in my hands. I knew whatever I found inside would not be pleasant, but even a quick trip would help my body and then I may not have to worry about it for a few days.
I grasped Ilyan’s hand in my own and leaned into him again before I pushed my magic into the necklace, closing my eyes
to enter the Tȍuha.
It was all the same; the same kitchen, the same mold, the same deathly silence. My heart beat erratically as I stood alone, suddenly wondering if Ryland would do something to shove me out or if ‘the dark-eyed man’ that Ryland had told me about could find me there. Either way, I needed as much time as possible in that wretched place.
I moved further into the kitchen before ducking down and sliding myself underneath the counter by the bar stools. My knees slipped on rotting food and a couple of small mice scurried away, but I barely took notice.
Had it come to this? Had the Tȍuha really become nothing more than a vessel for energy? Ryland’s voice echoed in my head, his promise to break the Zȇlství; his gentle words begging me to do the same.
And yet here I sat, hiding from him underneath a counter amongst garbage, terrified about what was going to happen in this place that joined me to my mate, just so I could keep the connection. It seemed ridiculous even to me.
What was I doing?
“I thought I told you not to come!” Ryland yelled.
I could only see his foot as he attempted to kick me. I was sure the contact would send me back so I dodged, scrambling through rotten food and broken glass, sending barstools side-long into the kitchen.
“Get out of here!” he yelled as he chased after me.
“I’m not going to do that, Ryland. Not yet.” I continued to crawl away, my hands and knees covered with filth and dirt.
“No one wants you here anymore!” Ryland yelled again, still kicking after me. I looked back to him as I reached the end of the counter, my stomach dropping to see his angry little body swinging a bar stool right toward my face.
It made contact and I howled out in pain, the impact sending me right out of the Tȍuha. I sat up automatically, my hand flying to my nose. It felt as if it had broken.
“What the heck?” I hissed, grabbing at my nose as my magic flared. I froze when my fingers touched the warm wetness of my own blood. I stared at the blood on my fingers, my breath coming faster than usual.
Pain had never followed me from the Tȍuha like this before, not like it did with the nightmares. Even with the nightmares I was never truly injured. In the Tȍuha, however, it seemed that I could be.
“Joclyn?” Ilyan asked softly. My panic had obviously woken him up. He placed his hand on my back as he traced up and down my spine. “Are you okay?”
“I’m bleeding.”
Ilyan was up in a flash, one arm wrapped around me while the other held my hand before moving to inspect my face. His fingers pushed softly against the skin, his face filled with deep worry lines.
“What happened?” I wasn’t sure if he was furious or worried.
“Ryland threw a chair at me.”
Ilyan froze, his hand still pressed against my face. His other hand tightened against my hip, his magic swelling in frustration.
“In the Tȍuha?” The heavy restraint he placed on his words made me tense.
“He has become very aggressive in getting me out of them.” I looked away from him, the same question as before buzzing in my ear. Why was I doing this?
“But... to hurt you?” Ilyan’s fingers pressed against the bridge of my nose, his magic healing me quicker than I could heal myself.
“I’m not sure it’s coming from him.” I looked up at Ilyan as the skin knit back together, the tips of his fingers tracing over the tender skin as he raised his eyebrow at me, prompting me to continue. I swallowed hard.
“Cail made it very obvious that he is in control of my dreams. I think he is manipulating the Tȍuha as well.” I picked at the hairs of the furs we were covered with, uninterested in looking at him.
“I am not surprised. I had my assumptions after what he said before. Has he hurt you?” Ilyan’s magic surged into me in a flood, as if he was expecting hundreds of broken bones.
“No, he likes to mess with my head, which is super fun considering I have to go into the Tȍuha, and I can’t control if the dreams come or not.”
Ilyan’s body stiffened, his breathing shallow against my hair. My new injury, mixed with the fact that Cail was controlling my dreams, was bringing all of his protective rage right to the surface.
“I only went into the Tȍuha once while you were gone.”
“How long was I gone?” he asked, his voice soft as he pulled away to look at me.
“Three days.” Ilyan’s hand moved down my face to lift my chin up to look at him.
“And the nightmares?” I looked back down to the scars, trying to ignore that my heartrate had turned into a drum at just the mention of the dratted things. Ilyan’s fingers tightened on my back, I guess he heard. “I will fix this. I will make the Tȍuha safe for you to go into. I will never let it happen again.”
I pulled his hand away from my face, holding onto his fingers tightly.
“You don’t have to fix it. We can fix it. But I am going to need your help. Nothing about this is going to be easy.”
Ilyan pulled me against him, his hand still wrapped around mine. “I know. We will figure it out together.”
He held me against him, his heart beating in my ear while I traced his scars with my free hand, his grip pressing me against his chest.
“I will never leave you,” he whispered in my ear before he kissed my mark. The jolt I had felt only twice before shot through my body. First with Ryland at the party, and then with Ilyan in the hall of sight. And now again. Here. I stiffened at the sensation, looking up to Ilyan in a panic.
“You feel it, too?” His voice was awed, his eyes glossing over.
“Yes. I felt it before when you... in the sight, I mean...” I let my voice trail off uncomfortably, unsure of how to phrase it.
“You felt it then?” Ilyan’s voice was quiet and unsure. I had never heard him without his confidence, it made me soften against him. “I have always wondered—since that day all those centuries ago—I always wondered if you felt it, too. If you heard what I said.”
I nodded once and his face relaxed, his confidence almost instantly returning. It was interesting, seeing that hidden side of him, the gentle kindness that I saw in Santa Fe. That I saw now. It was like I was seeing the real him.
Sometimes it felt like Wyn and I knew two different Ilyan’s. Maybe we did.
“I did. I heard every word.” He smiled again and I looked away, my face heating as I turned into a giant ball of blush and nerves. “I meant every word,” he whispered as he kissed my hair line, his body warm and close against mine. “I will always love you, but I will never force you to be with me. I will never stop you from being with Ryland. He is your mate, Joclyn. I will always respect that.”
Ilyan gently placed his hand against my face, and lifted me to meet his gaze. He looked at me softly, his eyes full of the golden specks of light I had seen before.
“Thank you.”
“Of course,” Ilyan let his finger trail up my jaw to rest on the mark on my neck, the jolt shooting through my body again. Ilyan smiled; I am not sure he could help it.
“Ilyan, what does it mean?” He only shook his head, his face confused and yet so hopeful.
“It means,” Dramin began from behind us, his voice making me jump, “that the Silnỳ has come to accept what you mean to her, My Lord.”
Ilyan sat up at Dramin’s arrival, his face breaking out into a wide smile. Dramin returned the smile as he set down a heavily laden breakfast tray before embracing him like a brother.
“Welcome back, my old friend,” Dramin said, his voice cracked. “It is so nice to see you alive and well. You had us worried.”
“I highly doubt that,” Ilyan chuckled, “but thank you for taking care of me and Joclyn. I cannot thank you enough.”
He clapped Dramin heavily on the shoulder, however Dramin only looked at me curiously.
“So, Joclyn, is it? That is a very pretty name.” He smiled and I instantly felt awkward. I hadn’t realized I never told them my name. I might have been a bit too concerned about
Ilyan and sights and coming wars.
Whoops.
Ilyan looked at me, his eyebrows raising in confusion.
“They never asked.” I shrugged and reached out to grab a mug out of Dramin’s hands in an attempt to ignore the look he was giving me.
The cup made it half way to my lips before Ilyan hollered in a panic and hit the cup hard. It sped away from me, spilling the delicious Black Water as it clattered and spun over the stone floor.
“Stop! Joclyn! Do you know what that is?” I turned to Ilyan, my stomach tensing at the panic in his face. He didn’t know. I mean, how could he, he had been asleep. I turned to Dramin who was clearly trying to hide his chuckle as he chugged water from his own mug.
Some help he was going to be.
“Actually,” I began, extending my hand as the mug flew back into it. I took a deep breath and placed my hand over the rim, my eyes never leaving Ilyan’s as it filled. I knew there would be no easy way to tell him.
“Yes, Ilyan, I know exactly what it is.” I tried to ignore my nerves as I drank from the mug, Ilyan’s face melting from horror to amazement. My insides loosened and I took a breath. I had been half afraid he would react like Thom, or worse.
“You’re amazing,” he said, his hand moving softly up my arm.
“If you think that’s amazing,” Dramin chuckled, “wait until you see what else she can do.”
One Hundred Two
Joclyn
I stood in the middle of the training hall, the three men facing me from where they stood against the far wall. Dramin bounced on his toes in eager anticipation, Thom stared off into space with his signature bored-as-hell scowl, and Ilyan looked into me with a deep-rooted mix of confusion and anticipation. Having them all watch me like that was making me uncomfortable, I had done this enough, but not with Ilyan here. His presence was making me nervous for a whole different reason.
My magic buzzed in eager anticipation, at least it wasn’t nervous. I firmed my feet against the ground, took another deep drink of the Black Water, and prepared myself.
Imdalind Ruby Collection One: Kiss of Fire | Eyes of Ember | Scorched Treachery Page 74