Imdalind Ruby Collection One: Kiss of Fire | Eyes of Ember | Scorched Treachery

by Ethington, Rebecca

  “N-n-no!” I howled. Ilyan’s eyes widened as he tried to figure out what was going on; why I was reacting this way.

  “H-he ca-can’t f-find m-me.” I clawed at the toilet in an attempt to push myself further back against the wall, I clawed at the heat that was flaring in my shoulder.

  I was back in Cail’s mind again. Nothing had changed.

  “Jos... love… calm down…” Ilyan’s hands fluttered around me as he tried to figure out what to do, his panic clear.

  “H-he wi-will hurt-t me.” I grabbed his arms, desperate to make him understand the danger I was in. My twitches flowed freely even as I tried to control them.

  My body was waging a battle with itself. One side desperately wanted to run, to hide. The other pleaded with me that I was safe, that Ilyan was here and the nightmares were gone.

  “No, love, no,” I focused on Ilyan’s words as his magic flared, my heart rate slowing at his command. “He will never hurt you again. I will keep you safe.”

  He looked deeply into me, my nerves continuing to unwind.

  Safe. Ilyan would keep me safe. I knew it was true. I focused on him and willed the calm to overtake me, willed my brain to believe his words.

  “What happened to you?” I could tell the question was more to himself than to me, but it still startled me. I didn’t want to relive it all.

  I looked at him—his magic moving through me, his hand wrapped around mine—and wished I could tell him everything, but I didn’t want to see it. I didn’t want to say it.

  I uncurled my hand, the fingers stiff and bent, and felt the strength of my magic under my skin; the strength of Ilyan’s magic that moved alongside mine. I knew what to do.

  Without a word, I placed my hand against Ilyan’s forehead and let my magic surge into him, his eyes closing as I pushed the memory into him. For one sparkling second my body relaxed, the flinching stopped, and my heart rate normalized. As the memory left me to play inside of Ilyan’s mind, I felt like myself again, like everything was okay.

  I could see Ilyan and Ryland clearly. I could feel some of what I had once felt for Ryland; the feelings that months of torture at his hands had taken away from me. The clarity didn’t last.

  Ilyan’s eyes opened and the memories came flooding back into me, the twitches and fear returning with it. I moved further back against the toilet, the sudden return heightening the emotions.

  “Mi lasko?” Ilyan said softly, but I could hear the heartbreak, the blame he was already placing on himself.

  “It… it’s n-not your f-fault.”

  “You are safe, Joclyn.” Ilyan shifted closer, his heavy voice right against my ear. “No one is going to hurt you, not anymore.”

  I wanted to believe him, I longed for it, but I couldn’t make my reality calm down enough to do so.

  “For two weeks I couldn’t figure out what was going on. I couldn’t get you back. I tried everything…” Ilyan dragged his hand through what was left of his hair, his eyes shining with tears that he was trying so hard to hide.

  I looked at him, I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear what he had to say, but I needed to. I needed to know that I was safe and why.

  “It’s no wonder I couldn’t. They had taken you through the Tȍuha and into Cail’s mind, leaving no trace. Your mind was disconnected from your body. It’s a miracle I got you back… especially without the connection of a Zȇlství.”

  ”Wh…what-t-t d-do y...you m-m-mean?” I struggled to get it out of me, my internal mind still screaming at me to run.

  I’m okay here.

  I repeated the words to myself, trying to keep my panic in check. I already knew it wasn’t working. I could feel the panic taking over.

  “Edmund broke the Zȇlství between you and... and…” he hesitated and I knew he was trying to tiptoe around Ryland’s name, “your mate, in an effort to trap you in Cail’s mind.”

  I stared at him, not sure how I was supposed to feel. Strangely, I wasn’t as sad or heartbroken as I probably should have been at hearing about the loss of my bond with Ry. I wasn’t even sure what I felt. When I thought of him, instead of love, I only felt fear. I was still scared of Ryland coming to find me, scared of the pain, of how he would hurt me.

  But more than that, I was relieved.

  I was free.

  No more nightmares. No more torture. No more.

  I opened my mouth to say something when a knock on the bathroom door sent me jumping. Ilyan calmed me before opening the door just enough to look out while still keeping me out of sight.

  “Yes?” Ilyan asked, his voice level.

  “He said it took about a week to adjust, but he’s not sure what was done, so it may take longer.” Thom’s voice was quiet on the other side of the door.

  “Was it this bad?”

  “No,” Thom said, “but you know how Ryland was raised… she’s not used to that.”

  His name was a trigger. I flinched and gasped, sobbing as I once again tried to find a place to hide. I didn’t care that a tiny voice inside of me was screaming that I was okay, that I was being irrational. I couldn’t stop. My pulse picked up again and Ilyan’s magic flared in an attempt to calm me.

  “No,” I moaned, “no, no, no.”

  “Jos,” Ilyan soothed, “It’s okay. He’s not here.”

  “He…h…he’s g...going t…to f-f-find me. Hurt, hurt, hurt me.” I instinctively began clawing at my shoulder, the warmth of Ilyan’s magic triggering the learned response.

  “No, mi lasko, no. I’m not going to let that happen, remember? Remember it wasn’t really Ryland in the Tȍuha.”

  “I-i-it wa-was him. P-p-pain. No, no m-more.”

  Ilyan’s magic flared, causing my consciousness to dip enough for me to get a grip on my panic. I exhaled, my chest shaking as he grabbed my hand, holding tight as he rubbed his thumb over my skin.

  “You’re okay.”

  “I-I’m okay.”

  Ilyan’s jaw clenched and I tightened my shoulders as he turned back to the door, expecting Ryland to burst through the door.

  “What else is it, Thom?”

  “He’s asking to see her again.” Thom’s voice was laced with more worry than I had ever heard.

  “No.” Ilyan’s tone made it clear he did not want to elaborate.

  “When?” Thom asked, although I was sure he didn’t care.

  “A week, a month, maybe never. I don’t know. You heard what happened when you said his name. I’m not sure what I am looking at here yet.” Ilyan looked at me and I glanced away.

  “Well make it snappy, we spotted two more camps this morning….”

  “I know, Thom,” Ilyan interrupted, making it obvious he was hiding something. I simply didn’t care.

  “Are those for her?” Ilyan asked, gesturing to something that I couldn’t see.

  “Oh, yeah, I brought quite a few with me now, in case she breaks some.” Thom brought a tray with about five mugs of Black Water into the room, Ilyan scowling at him as he looked toward me. His eyes widened at seeing me there, hiding against the toilet.

  “Hi, T…T…Thom.” I tried to sound as normal as I could, seeing as I was hiding against a toilet, but still couldn’t keep the stutter out of my voice.

  “Hey, Silnỳ,” he said, a deep vein of pity lining his voice.

  In his eagerness to spy, he dropped the tray a little fast and one of the corners snapped against the tile floor before Ilyan could catch it.

  I jerked so fast my head slammed into the side of the sink, my hands coming up to cover my ears as I began to rock back and forth, Ilyan’s song humming on my lips.

  “Good Gravy!” I heard Thom exclaim, “What did he do to her?”

  “Out, Thom!” Ilyan roared as Thom left, the door clicking a little too loudly behind him.

  I groaned in panic and pulled my head down into my knees. Ilyan’s magic surging through me as he sang alongside me, the words to his song pulling me back to reality.

  For now.

  One H
undred Thirty-Two

  Ilyan

  I hadn’t slept since I had pulled Joclyn from the hell Cail had trapped her in. My name had been soft on her lips before she attempted to murder her mate. Former mate. I had to keep reminding myself that the bond was broken, broken by my father without their permission, their love tarnished for his wicked agenda. It made me sick to think about.

  My experiences over the last two weeks had been only a small touch of what Ryland must have felt while separated from Joclyn for so long, constantly praying for her health and safety. Every day was filled with worry and panic. Then to see her again and have her attack you...

  I shook my head. Part of me wanted to bring Ryland to her now, to let him be there to comfort her and protect her, while another part of me wanted him to stay far away.

  No matter what I wanted, he couldn’t come back. It wasn’t safe for him here. Joclyn had proven that as she huddled against the toilet yesterday, her panic seeping into my soul. I had felt guilty leaving her alone since then, so I had left while she was asleep and chose to keep my visits with Thom and Dramin short, the ones with Ryland and Ovailia even shorter.

  While her sleep was kept dreamless thanks to my magic, my waking hours were a nightmare. Joclyn had shown me the memories of the months she was trapped inside Cail’s mind. I had felt every bone break, every impact of her body against stone, walls and cement. I had watched in terror as she ran through bloodstained hallways, only to come face to face with a Ryland who never ceased to find new ways to hurt her.

  It wasn’t really Ryland. It was a close enough likeness that even Joclyn had been fooled, but it was just a projection. A projection of Ryland that Cail had placed inside her mind to hurt her, to torture her, so that in the event she did escape, she would only be a weapon against him.

  To be killed by your own mate; it was my father’s sickest form of torture.

  I replayed the memories as I dissected everything, but mostly the way Cail yelled for Wynifred with his dying breath. Guilt filled me that I had not been able to keep my side of his bargain. A secret for a life, and he had lost his life anyway. I could only hope that Wyn was all right.

  Anger bubbled up inside me like oil left too long in a pan, slow and smothering. I wasn’t mad at Cail for what he had done. I wasn’t even mad at Ryland for not getting her out in time. I was mad at myself for not protecting her, not demanding that the bond be broken before this could have happened.

  I should have kept her safe, broken the bond when I had the chance, and protected her mind from the terrors that had changed her. I hadn’t, though.

  My choice to give her the joy of her first love had only led to a terror I could never fathom.

  I shook my head and continued down the halls, back toward my suite, back to where Joclyn still lay. My magic surged through her, keeping her asleep until I could return from checking on Dramin.

  His room had been bare except for the Black Water. Mug after mug of the stuff. He lay on his bed, his body was still and cold as if death was unwilling to let him go. That was what I had thought when I first walked in—that he was dead. His magic was still strong inside of him after the restart, but everything else had seemed to shut down.

  “Ilyan?”

  I jumped at Ryland’s voice, swinging around to face him. No one had snuck up on me in centuries. I could always feel everyone’s magical impulses, I could hear their breathing in my ears; and yet, Ryland stood in front of me, nothing flowing off him, not a wave or a whisper. I had felt the deep green waves of Ryland’s energy before, first when he had released me from our father’s torture chamber as a child and again when I had seen him with Joclyn for the first time. Now, nothing was there.

  “Yes?” My eyes narrowed in confusion, my magic surging as I tried to figure out how he was restraining his magic to the point that I could not sense him.

  “I... I thought you would come get me by now.” I arched an eyebrow at him, not following. “To see Joclyn.”

  Ah yes, I should have known. It was wrong of me to keep him from her, but I worried. Worried what he would do to her and worried what she would do to him.

  “It’s not safe, Ryland, not yet.” I kept my voice soft, hoping to speak with him like a brother, not a ruler.

  “I can decide what is safe,” Ryland snarled as he squared his strong shoulders. So much for a calm talk between brothers.

  I kept my posture straight, while still trying to maintain my calm façade.

  “She tried to kill you, Ryland. That has not changed. When Cail trapped her in his mind, he used a projection of you to torture her. Right now, she doesn’t see the difference.”

  Ryland’s eyes widened, the distrust showing in the furrowed lines of his forehead. I couldn’t help the deep sigh that escaped me. Ovailia and our father had already set their framework against me; getting him to see things differently was going to be difficult.

  “She doesn’t see the difference because you won’t let her.” Ryland’s voice was deep and angry.

  “That’s not true, Ryland.” I planted my feet as he began to pace, his agitated movements alerting me to the fact that something much darker was dwelling within him.

  He paced and mumbled, talking to something or someone as that darkness took control.

  “Ry?” He spun at my voice, as if he had forgotten I was there. His eyes widened in anger, and his hands began to shake, even though he had stopped pacing.

  “Don’t call me that.” I stepped back, the snarl in his voice keeping me on high alert. I wished I could feel his magic, know what was coming.

  “Only Jos can call me that. She’s the only one...” His fingers flexed in agitation, his hands glowing with power as his eyes darkened—and still I couldn’t read him.

  “All right,” I said slowly, hoping to alleviate the pressure that was obviously building inside of him. “I didn’t know that, Ryland. I won’t do it again.”

  “She’s all I have. I... She’s mine.” He snarled the last statement again, his hands continuing to open and close as his anger fueled his power.

  Nothing.

  “I know that, Ryland. She knows that. She risked everything to see you. Even when the dreams hurt, when the Tȍuha—”

  “Then don’t keep her from me!” I flinched as he snapped and his pacing returned, the agitated movements increasing in his arms.

  I had to remind myself that he had only been released from his Vymȁzat a week ago. If his horrors were anything like what Joclyn had been forced to endure, then he had made amazing progress.

  There was hope for both of them.

  “I’m not keeping her from you, Ryland. She is afraid of you. She wants to kill you. I am protecting you from her, as well as protecting her.” I watched him as he moved, alert even as I tried to calm him. I could have turned myself into a giant teddy bear, I doubt it would have done anything.

  “I don’t believe you.” He didn’t even look at me as he paced, his eyes darting anywhere but at me.

  “I would never lie to you, Ryland. You are my brother. You released me from our father’s imprisonment. You saved my life. Now it is just my turn to return the favor.”

  “You don’t know what he did to us!” he yelled, the palm of his hand moving to smack against his head in frustration.

  I could already tell there would be no controlling Ryland’s anger. It was too new. He reminded me of Thom when I had first met him, how the anger had been all that he had, what he held onto. It took Thom decades, and Sain’s guidance, to see how wrong that anger could be. I doubted we had the time this time around.

  Ovailia had obviously led him to believe that I was keeping Joclyn from him. He needed to see that I hadn’t taken her away from him, that I had no intention of holding them apart.

  “I may not know what he did to you, but I know what he did to Joclyn,” I whispered, my voice just loud enough to freeze him in place.

  “He hurt her.”

  “Yes. In every nightmare. You were there, weren’t you?” He
shook his head; I tried to ignore the surge of pride at my lucky guess. “He hurt you, too.”

  Ryland looked up at me, his eyes calming as his breathing regulated. The moment his eyes met mine, I felt it. It was weak and only there for a moment, but his magic surged through the air before retreating again. I smiled and wondered at the fact that he could control himself so much that he could hide all of his power from my detection.

  “They used me to hurt her.” I visibly flinched at Ryland’s words, at the way he clenched his chest as if the pain of the blood magic was still fresh on his mind. “I didn’t want to, but when I fought them, when I warned her… Hurt Me!” His last words flew out in an angry rush, the disjointed nature of them alarming.

  “I know.”

  “Hurt… hurt… hurt…” he repeated before hitting himself hard against the head with his palm again. As quick as it started, the deranged anger on his face left.

  “I don’t want to hurt her,” he whispered. I nodded to him once, afraid of what speaking might bring out next. Ryland’s hand moved to clench over his chest again, his eyes drifting back to me.

  I didn’t know how much Ryland remembered of the Vymȁzat, or how much of what had been done was his own choice, but one thing was clear. He had suffered as much, if not more, than the rest of Edmund’s children. If only for that, he deserved my patience.

  “It wasn’t your fault, Ryland. He has done it to all of us.” I moved toward him slowly, keeping my voice level.

  I needed Ryland on my side, I needed to regain the trust he had lost in me. Ovailia had moved him into position as a pawn, but he wasn’t a pawn; he was a person. My brother. He was someone I cared for. If I could save him, I would.

  “Everyone?” Ryland looked up at me from beneath his long bangs, the wicked gleam back in his eyes. I didn’t know what was said to trigger his anger, but with one statement, we were right back where we began.

  Fine. If he wanted to be angry, I would let him. I would not, however, let his foolish emotion affect me or my choices. I would fight fire with fire. My skin prickled the way it always did in anticipation of battle, my magic surging as I smiled. I knew the wicked gleam was back in my eyes. I didn’t try to hide it; I let it shine in warning. He stepped back.