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.
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 kept my visits with Thom and Dramin short, the ones with Ryland and Ovailia even shorter.
I had kept her asleep since her panicked outburst yesterday afternoon in an attempt to keep her mind clear of the nightmares that I knew would haunt her if I left her to sleep naturally. Instead, I chose to constantly replay my song within her mind in an effort to soothe her. It had seemed to work before. I hoped it would help to keep her calm and make her realize that she was safe.
While her sleep was kept dreamless, my waking hours were a nightmare. Joclyn had shown me the memories of the months she was trapped inside Cail’s mind when she had been awake the day before. 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 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 the words that were spoken, 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 hoped Wyn was all right.
I replayed the way Cail led Joclyn through the maze of his mind. Looking at it like this, I was able to relate every injury to an action, the connections only fueling my anger.
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. But I didn’t.
How could I have known what would happen? I could only assume what I felt ring true in Joclyn’s heart: that Ryland was alive and soon they would be back together.
I wanted that for her.
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.
With no one extra on hand to watch her, I had left her alone, the door sealed, while I checked on Dramin. His room was bare except for mug after mug of Black Water. His body was still and cold as if death was unwilling to let him go. That’s 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, my body swinging around to face him. No one had snuck up on me in centuries. I could always feel everyone’s magical impulses as they moved toward me, 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, when he had released me from my father’s torture chamber as a child and when I had seen him with Joclyn. Now, nothing was there.
“Yes?” My eyes narrowed in confusion, my magic surging toward him 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. I couldn’t be the only levelheaded one around here, could I?
“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 as I spoke, the distrust showing in the furrowed lines of his forehead. I couldn’t help the deep sigh that escaped me. Ovailia had already set her framework; 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.
“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 on instinct, the snarl in his voice and the absence of his energy keeping me on high alert.
“Only Jos can call me that. She’s the only one....”
His fingers continued to flex as he spoke, his hands lifting to circle his head in agitation, his fingers 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.
I watched him for a moment, trying to get any kind of a read off him. Nothing triggered, nothing changed. He was obviously completely infused with his magic, but still I felt 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 at his words as 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.
“I’m not keeping her from you, Ryland. She is scared of you. She wants to kill you. I am protecting you from her, as well as protecting her.” I watched him as he moved, keeping my body still and my voice level in an effort to keep him calm.
“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 time, and Sain’s guidance, to see how wrong that anger could be. I needed to get Ryland past it faster than Thom though.
I needed him to see what he still had before it was all taken away by our father’s games.
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 only nodded; I tried to ignore the surge of pride at my lucky guess. “He hurt you too.”
It was a statement. 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 couldn’t help but smile; I was calming him. 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 as he looked at me.
“I don’t want to hurt her,” he whispered. I nodded to him once, afraid of what speaking may 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 don’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. If it were to be anything, it would be the other way around.
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. I let the power behind my eyes move into my brother. He stepped back. Not a lot, but just enough to convey that the look in my eyes had done its job.
“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 used to smear 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 scared 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 listened through it all, his body relaxing and 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 voice was soft in my ear as he embraced me, his body appearing only slightly younger than mine. I reluctantly returned the hug, my arms unsure how to respond to such a gesture.
“Samozřejmě, bratr, I will let you see her as soon as she is ready,” I said, his slight smile appearing at my words.
Thom had been right from the very beginning. Handing her over was going to be harder than I had ever imagined.
It was 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 is the one that needed to be done; no matter how much it hurt.
Chapter Twenty-Six
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 roughly 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 the 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’s body 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 silent 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.
She pressed against me at the noise, my arms helping her in her search for comfort, as I tightened them around her.
“Are you okay?” I ran my hand over her hair, feeling the soft strands between my fingers, the act helping to slowly calm her heart.
Her head moved against me, the subtle nod of agreement 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.
She sighed, and I felt her body relax just enough to mold against me. I wished I could give her serenity in her waking moments, but it was not in my power to do so. There was one thing only I had power to give her right now.
I sang.
I hummed the melody of her song, our song, into her hair. Her body 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 could become bigger then it. I just needed to 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 and into me.
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.
Scorched Treachery (Imdalind #3) Page 26