“Yes, Ryland, everyone. Most everyone has died at his hands. Zetta was killed at birth because of her brown eyes. Sylas was forcibly mated only to be killed when he never produced an heir. Mym tortured all her young life, turned into a five-year-old weapon. She never knew love until I rescued her, but even then, she struggled. How can you learn to recognize love if you’ve never felt it? Thom watched as his daughter was tortured and murdered at the hands of our father. He smeared her blood on his face.”
“Thom?” Ryland asked, the timber of his voice changing to one of sickened pity. Had no one told him yet? Had he not placed it together?
“Yes, Thom. He is your brother, too. Only the four of us remain. Some have escaped the horrors, others let them engulf them, and they are turned into heartless monsters. Joclyn fights her horrors every day; what will you do?”
“Joclyn...” His voice revered her, as if she was his deity. The anger was gone from his eyes now, his head hanging between his sagging shoulders. Right then, I could see the child who had saved me. He was scared, but so brave. In that moment, I knew that his strength was still there; it was the line between right and wrong that had been blurred.
We just needed to draw it again.
“I have kept her safe for you, Ryland. Just as I promised you I would. But I need to continue keeping her safe until she realizes that she doesn’t need to be afraid of you.”
Ryland’s eyes looked up to me, and I felt my heart beat uncomfortably as it tried to escape the prison that I had trapped it in, as it tried to stop me from enacting on my heritage.
“She still loves you, Ryland. I can see it in her eyes. I saw it every day that she would talk about you, in the way she held out hope. She told me every day, Ryland. Her heart belongs to you.”
Ryland’s body relaxed, his eyes softening as he listened. He walked toward me slowly, his magical impulses finally released from wherever he had held them prisoner, the waves calm in the air.
“I will make this right and return her to you whole.” I smiled, my face pulling up uncomfortably as my heart protested against my words.
“Thank you, Ilyan.” Ryland’s voice was soft in my ear as he embraced me. I pulled him closer.
“Samozřejmě, bratr. I will let you see her as soon as she is ready.”
Talon had been right. Thom had been right. From the very beginning. Handing her over was going to be harder than I had ever imagined.
It was my duty, my role, to do what was right. There was no question that this was the right thing to do. I could not lead the few of us that remained if I was not honest and right.
And doing this, this was right.
The choices we make are not always easy, but it is the ones that are hard that matter. I could tell, looking into his eyes, that this was the one that mattered. This was the one that would make a difference.
This was the one that needed to be done; no matter how much it hurt.
One Hundred Thirty-Three
Ryland
‘Did you see the way he sheltered her? The ways she looked at him?’
No. It’s not like that.
I was trying to fight the voices, but they had grown so much worse since that tent in the middle of the battlefield. They never stopped, not unless Ovailia let them. And she never let them. He almost kissed her.
‘I could see it in his eyes. She’s kissed him. That’s why she doesn’t want to see you.’
“No… no… no…” I moaned, my hands moving to cup my ears in an attempt to keep the voices out, but you couldn’t keep out what was already inside of you. I couldn’t keep the shadow of my father’s voice, of Cail’s voice from tormenting me.
I tried… I tried….
‘It’s why she attacked you.’
No. That wasn’t her. Just like this wasn’t me. I needed to control this. I needed to calm down. “No… no… hurt her…”
‘And what did she do? She tried to kill you.’
“Kill… kill… kill”
‘Are you going to kill her?’
“Kill… kill… kill her…”
The words repeated over and over, over and over. I felt my hands claw at my head, I felt my body move as I thumped my body against the wall over and over, over and over, over and over.
Bang.
‘Are you going to hurt her?’
Bang.
‘Kill her… kill her…’
Bang.
My eyes darted around as I tried to find something to focus on, to help pull me out of the nightmare. There was nothing but stone. Ovailia, her heels tapping as she made her way over.
“Are you going to kill Joclyn, Ryland?” She asked in that fake-sugar voice of hers as she squat before me. I wanted to say no, but I couldn’t find the words.
‘Kill her… kill her… make her pay.’
“Kill!” The word exploded and I slammed myself against the wall, and then against the magical barrier Ovailia had trapped me in. I needed to get out of here, I needed to find Ilyan and get his help. I needed to attack her. I needed to hurt her.
I needed… I needed...
“I don’t know what Cail’s problem was. I can do anything with you with that blade in your heart. He clearly wasn’t using it to its full potential.” Ovailia smiled as I rammed into the barrier, over and over, over and over. She kept me here, like a caged dog, it didn’t matter how much I fought.
I was trapped.
If I could get away from her, away from her magic, I could think clearer.
But she never left.
I hit my body against the invisible barrier again in an attempt to escape, to fight, to kill, the color shimmering with each impact. My magic flared and the barrier left, disintegrated to the ground like millions of falling stars.
“Shall we go see her?” Ovailia asked, her voice burning like a flame through me as I looked up to her in confusion.
“Ilyan won’t let me.” I growled.
“He won’t let you?” She asked, and I hit my back against the wall.
‘He’s keeping her from you. He wants her for himself.’
“No… no… no… kill…”
“He doesn’t want you to see her,” Ovailia sneered, “He’s a bad man.”
Was he? Something said he was good. That I needed him. But I couldn’t think straight with Ovailia’s eyes on me. Everything was too muddled. Too broken.
“Bad… bad… bad…”
“I know where she is.” I froze, my hands shooting out to grab her, to demand she tell me, to take me there, but there was no need. “I’ll take you there.”
She smiled and stepped away from me, her long hair swinging as I followed behind her.
“You will take me there?” I asked, not daring to hope.
“Yes,” she smiled, as she watched me, her eyes hard. “Shall we go there now?”
One Hundred Thirty-Four
Ilyan
I woke up with Joclyn in my arms, her body pressed against mine as I sang to her, my words flitting between Czech and English. I had finally fallen asleep at some point last night after making one last check on Dramin.
I had slept dreamlessly, but at some point, the restraint I had against her waking had slipped off and she woke. She was scared. I could tell by the unsteady beat of her heart and the way her hand pressed against me, as if she was trying to move into me. I tightened my arms against her, hoping the pressure would help to relax her.
I had seen her need for security and the way she had come to get that from pressure as she wedged herself in between the toilet and vanity the other day. I had felt her need for the strength of something else when she could not find her own in the memories she had lent me.
Joclyn stiffened at my touch, a small flinch that shivered over her shoulder blades. Her breathing picked up and her heart rate increased, but I kept my arms tight around her, not willing to let her move into herself, not wanting her fears to take over. I pushed my magic into her, calming her, settling her frayed nerves.
I stayed sil
ent as I held her, as she calmed. I wanted her to decide when she felt safe enough to speak. I wanted her to feel security come from me and then be able to find it in herself.
“Joclyn?” I kept my voice soft, my lips speaking gently against her dark hair. “Are you okay?” I ran my hand over her hair, feeling the soft strands between my fingers.
She nodded her head against me, the subtle nod not one I hadn’t expected. She was okay. Even though I could feel her fear, feel her panic, she still felt okay.
My heart beat in one wild thump before settling again, my hold on her lessening. I kept her against me as I ran my hand over her hair, my other coming to press her back into me. I surrounded her in security, keeping her broken mind safe for just a moment.
I hummed the melody of her song, our song, into her hair. She relaxed at the sound, her breath escaping in a warm rush against the skin of my chest. I smiled as I sang, and she calmed and breathed against me. I could still feel the stutter in her breath, the small half beat of her heart, but for one small moment I didn’t hear that, I couldn’t feel the tightness on her back, the tension in her joints. She was just Joclyn, in my arms once again.
She didn’t know it now, but she was stronger than the demons that had filled her soul. I could feel it in the way she relaxed, in the steady strum of her heart. She could overcome this. She would become bigger than it. I would help her find that path. To help her figure out how to put it behind her, to prove her own strength to her. I would help her find herself again.
I sang as I watched the sky lighten through the large arches of my room, the stars fading as the light of dawn took them. Minutes turned into hours but still we lay, her body against mine, my song providing the calming security she so desperately needed.
I moved away from her slowly, surprised when she jerked as if the movement had been a lightning strike. I didn’t dare go too far, only far enough to be able to look at her, to see her beautiful eyes stare into me. I had missed them, and in the morning light, they seemed to shine, the light of her soul sparkling through them.
My hold on Joclyn loosened as I lifted my hand, the sun catching on the angry red burn that covered my palm and the inside of my fingers. The skin was red and raw, the moist flesh raised as if it had been partially eaten and cast aside.
It had taken centuries for the burns on my chest to heal, and the burn on my arm was still angry and red. This burn seemed much deeper than the others. The pain was definitely stronger and uncontrollable. I could already tell it would take much longer for this burn to heal, if it healed at all.
The connection that had been triggered by the touch of the Black Water had left me, leaving me feeling strangely empty. Even with the magic of a bonding, such intimate connections weren’t possible. To feel her heart, her body, within me, that wasn’t something that had ever happened.
I just wished I knew what that connection meant. With all my training, with all the knowledge that had been demanded of me, the Draks choice to keep this information hidden was one that would affect us in ways I didn’t think I could ever understand.
Without analyzing the thought, I pressed my scarred hand against her cheek, a gasp escaping my lips as the connection restored itself. With one touch, my awareness of her increased. Her heartbeat was strong within me, and I could feel the steady thrum of her soul moving alongside mine.
I couldn’t help it. Even though I knew I shouldn’t and my brain begged me not to, I let my finger trail down her neck and onto the raised skin of her mark. As my finger connected, the jolt that I had always felt shot through me, supercharging my magic in a surge of energy. It buzzed through me like the most addictive drug.
I was surprised when I felt her heart seize as her own jolt shot through her, the shock of our joining magic strong in her body as well as my own. Before she could panic, before her heart rate could increase much further, she controlled it. She forced the fear down, forced the beat of her heart to keep a steady beat, even without my help.
She was amazing.
I couldn’t keep the look of pure joy out of my eyes as I looked at her. She would never cease to amaze me. Everything that would be thrown at her she would overcome. I could tell that now. I was beyond honored to be the one to keep her safe, to be allowed to love her.
Her eyes looked into mine. Confusion and happiness intermingled with each other before she gasped and moved into me; her hot breath against my chest sent waves of energy shooting over my skin.
I pulled her into me, my hold tight against her. I wanted so much to stay like this, our arms locked in each other’s embrace, but it could not be. It was not right to dwell in a joy that was not yours, and sadly, that was just what I was doing.
“I’m going to go get you some Black Water. I’ll be right back,” I whispered in her ear before I pulled away, my muscles aching at the loss of her warmth.
Joclyn curled herself into a ball as I left, the loss of contact already affecting her. I needed to hurry. Clear my head and come right back.
I moved swiftly out the door, careful to close it silently so as not to trigger any more of her panic attacks. The last thing I wanted was for her to panic without anyone there to calm her.
My magic surged through her as I raced to Dramin’s room, grateful for his foresight in placing his chambers so close to my own.
Thom stood over Dramin, his hands on his head as he worked over him, healing his body and removing the burns that plagued his organs.
“Any change since last night?” I asked through the silence, but Thom only shook his head, a small sag in his shoulders telling me all I needed to know.
“Nothing.”
“Keep trying, Thom. We can’t lose him.” I grabbed one of the full mugs before turning back to the pair, Thom’s head hanging over his friend, his dreads making him look like he had been trapped in a cage.
“We can try to give him some Black Water later, perhaps it will help.” I raised the glass toward Thom, causing him to look toward me, his eyes shielded by his usual mask.
“At least that poison is good for something.” He forced a laugh, the sound causing the lingering tension in the room to grow.
I opened my mouth to reply when a flare of my magic moved away from me and into Joclyn. Her panic had pulled it to her and I could feel her clinging to it like a lifeline. As it filled her, I felt the erratic beat of her heart and the pressure in her joints. The fear I had worked so carefully to remove from her had come back tenfold. Someone was there in the room with her.
I said nothing to Thom as I placed the mug back on the table and ran toward her. Fear was growing within her, the panic turning into a yell.
The sound of her scream vibrated against the stone hallways as I turned the last corner to find Ovailia leaning against the large wooden door to my suite. She looked at me with her usual smug smile, her eyes flashing with a sheen of red I hadn’t seen for hundreds of years.
“So, brother. Are you going to tell me what happened to your hand?” It was such a normal question, I couldn’t believe that she would ask it here, in the hall, while she guarded the door that she had obviously let Ryland through.
“I cut it,” I lied, pushing my way closer to her.
Ovailia didn’t move. She stayed where she was with her long frame leaning elegantly across the door. She looked at me with that wicked gleam she had perfected long ago, and I could tell at once that this would not go as planned.
“Get out of my way,” I commanded, careful to keep my magic out of my voice.
“No. He deserves to see his mate. Unless you have taken her for yourself. Did you ruin his mate, brother? Tsk. Tsk. I knew you couldn’t keep your hands off her.” She spoke as if she was relating facts, not disgusting lies. I could never do something so vulgar. By the look on her face, I could tell that she had already spread the seed of doubt in Ryland’s mind.
“Don’t spread such lies!” I yelled, fully aware that the power in my voice was shaking the door she still leaned against.
�
��Then why can’t he see her?” She raised her voice to match mine, the increase in volume obviously only meant to fuel whatever was happening inside the room.
“Because she will kill him!”
“Oh I doubt that, but if she does, it doesn’t matter. It’s what Father would want. They are both weapons, created only to kill each other.” She sneered, the little twist of her lips identical to our father’s, the action fueling my rage.
“Out of my way!” I roared, and with one flick of my magic I sent Ovailia flying away from the door, her body hitting the wall opposite as the door flew from its hinges unveiling Ryland, Joclyn and the horrors on the other side.
One Hundred Thirty-Five
Joclyn
I lay in Ilyan’s arms, rejoicing at the return of something that could now be described as normal. I curled into him before the panic could start, pressing my face into his chest and his scars. His smell made me light headed in a pleasant, comforting way. I hadn’t remembered Ilyan having a smell, especially one as strong as this; wildflowers and smoke. Was the smell new, or had I chosen not to acknowledge it until right then?
With his arms around me and his song on repeat, I could feel the panic and despair leaving me.
I could feel normal.
Almost.
Ilyan pulled away enough to look at me, the gold specks in his eyes reflecting the morning light. He moved my hair away from my face, his finger grazing against my mark. The jolt of magic shot down my spine and I fought the panic that tried to break free, my eyes glued to his as he smiled. His face was a mixture of pride, worry, and most of all, love.
I knew, as well as he did, that it was now only Ilyan’s touch that could cause such a reaction.
“I’m going to go get you some Black Water. I’ll be right back.” His lips brushed my hairline before he was gone, leaving me under the covers, trapped with his heat.
Imdalind Ruby Collection One: Kiss of Fire | Eyes of Ember | Scorched Treachery Page 100