Soul of Flame (Imdalind Series #4)

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Soul of Flame (Imdalind Series #4) Page 15

by Rebecca Ethington


  “I miss you,too, Ry,” I whispered, not sure he could hear me. “But I don’t think I can—”

  “I know,” he interrupted, his voice just as soft as mine.

  I could hear the desperation in his voice, the gentle longing so powerful that I couldn’t help but agree. I nodded quietly, knowing he couldn’t see, but unable to put into words the fears and hopes that plagued my own mind. Right then, it was my chance to make things better, possibly the only one I would get.

  I looked down at the necklace on the floor, my heart beating wildly in my chest. Maybe we weren’t quite as broken as I thought.

  Ilyan followed me as I sunk down to the floor, my back pressing against the door frame as I sat on the stone floor, my fingers curling around the fine silver chain.

  “I have something for you, Ry. Something that might help.” I raised my voice to make sure he could hear, and moved the necklace under the crack in the door, careful to keep my fingers on my side.

  “Jos? What?” Ryland asked, his voice rising in confusion. Even though he knew why he was here, I was sure he couldn’t see it.

  “It’s your necklace, on the floor.”

  “I can’t take this back, Jos. It’s a piece of me, remember.” I cringed at his voice, the memory of that day slapping me in the face.

  This was exactly what I had been afraid of. I was scared of the good memories, the ones that would bring regret. The ones that weren’t tainted. Part of me wanted to keep them hidden, keep them safe from the horrors that I was sure were just waiting to destroy them forever.

  “I know,” I said, my voice breaking as I fought back the tears that burned behind my eyes. “But I need you to. I need you to take your heart back, Ry. It doesn’t belong to me anymore.”

  “Did Ilyan tell you to say that?” he spat, his angry voice causing me to jump, the same voice that had haunted me coming back so fast that the anxiety increased, my panic rushing right to the surface.

  My breathing picked up as my magic swirled, the joints in my jaw stiffening. I was one quick move away from rushing the door when Ilyan pressed his hand against my face, his magic rushing into me as he smothered the fear and anger that rose up in me. I focused on Ilyan’s eyes as his warmth filled me, knowing how dangerous I was right then. I knew that with only one surge of my magic the door would fly right off its hinges.

  I exhaled deeply at feeling the numbing blanket of Ilyan’s magic take over, my mind coming back to myself. I could hear whispering on the other side of the door as Sain did the same to Ryland, Ry’s voice spouting out in anger every few minutes.

  “The memory bind is slipping; we don’t have much time left,” Ilyan whispered to me as I focused on him, and the last of my anxiety melted away. “You need to hurry.”

  “Ry,” I said loudly, even though I could hear whispering on the other side of the door. The whispering stopped almost immediately, and the door jerked against my back as Ryland pressed himself against it.

  I closed my eyes as I tried to focus, not sure if what I was about to say was going to help or not.

  “I want you to have your heart back, not because I don’t love you, but because I do, just not in that way.” I stopped midsentence as my heart compressed inside my chest, the pressure so much I wasn’t sure if it was still beating. I swallowed hard and continued on, knowing I needed to say this. I needed him to understand. “I want you to have your heart back because I don’t want you to hurt anymore. I want you to feel like yourself.”

  I exhaled deeply when I finished, my eyes focused on the door as I waited for him to respond. The seconds dragged on, my fingers pressing into the door as I waited, as I silently pleaded for him to accept the necklace, to take back the piece of him.

  “When I made this, I had no idea who you really were,” he said out of the blue, my pressured grip against the door loosening almost instantly. “I wanted you to have it, forever, because I knew I would never see you again. I was going to run away and try to disappear. Anything to keep from what Edmund had planned for me. My father had been training me for years to hunt Ilyan. I wasn’t even going to school. He was going to send Cail and me on a kamikaze trip to kill my brother. I guess, in some ways, that still happened.”

  My eyes widened at his words, Ilyan’s surprise joining my own as this new bit of information was revealed to us.

  “And then, when I found your kiss, and I knew I could use you against my dad, to make him hurt the way he had made me hurt. Hurt. Hurt,” Ryland continued, his voice a snap that shot through me, the tone deep and angry. I shrunk away from the door at the sound, glad when Ilyan wrapped his arm around me, bringing me into him protectively.

  “Sain?” Ilyan spoke up from beside me, his voice tense and worried as his grip on me increased.

  “We are close,” Sain said before his voice deteriorated into frantic whispers on the other side of the door.

  I held still against Ilyan, not sure what was happening. I could hear the whispers from the other side, soft whimpers that made my heart ache.

  “Will you keep the necklace, Jos?” Ryland said through the silence, his request freezing me in place.

  “I can’t…”

  “No, not my heart. Just the necklace. A promise that maybe we can try to be friends again.” The plea on his voice cut through me, my breath catching in my chest. I didn’t want the necklace back, but I couldn’t deny him this.

  “Of course,” I whispered as I lay against Ilyan’s chest.

  The whispering on the other side of the door picked up, the frantic nature of it building until it stopped, followed by a loud grunt echoing in my ears. I moved closer to the door, Ilyan’s arms dropping from me as I pressed myself against it, desperate to hear something that would clue me into what had happened.

  “It looks just like your eyes,” Ryland said, his voice so strained I barely heard it. “Wear it always.”

  Ryland’s voice cut out, a scraping sound catching my attention as he pushed the necklace back under the door. I dropped to my knees as I saw it, the now clear diamond streaked with his blood. It rested on his fingertips as he pushed it toward me, the red smudges on his hand as bright as the sun.

  I reached down, the tips of my fingers pressing against the cold skin of his hand as I covered the necklace. I kept my hand there, my skin pressed against the only part of him I could see. I held my breath, waiting for the connection—for something to happen—but all I felt was the iron chill of his skin and the rough texture of his hands. His fingers moved to wrap around mine, his hand twisting to drop the necklace into my hand, the stone as cold as his skin.

  The necklace fell into my hand before he withdrew, taking the last of our connection with him. I looked at the necklace in my palm, the silvery diamond, the color of my eyes, just as he had said.

  My face heated and burned as I stared blankly into my hand, my body feeling numb as Ilyan’s barrier wore off. I barely registered his fingers as they carefully removed the necklace from my hand, his touch soft against my hair as he moved it out of the way.

  Silence stretched between us as Ilyan placed the necklace around my neck, the cold stone falling just below my collar bone.

  I may have lost my first love, but I wasn’t going to let Edmund take away my best friend, too, even if it took years to trust him again. I would give my heart to try.

  “Always,” I gasped, even though I knew he had gone. My fingers reached up to wrap around the stone that was now nothing but a diamond.

  Thirteen

  I knew I was dreaming, like really dreaming. Not the controlled nightmares Cail had cursed me with, but the disconnected visions of my own subconscious. Although I wasn’t sure that was any better.

  It had been so long since I’d had an actual dream that I had almost forgotten what they felt like. I had forgotten the way everything felt disconnected and wobbly, as if I was trapped underwater.

  I stood still in our room as I watched the storm rage beyond the balcony, flashing in angry light as it came closer.
Thunderheads rumbled as the lightning flashed, the aggression so quick I was afraid the storm would move right into the room, and the lightning would take us away.

  Ilyan stood on the balcony, framed by the flashes of white. His back was tense under his shirt as he watched the storm, both of us frozen in fear before he turned around. I saw his mouth move as he yelled at me, his face panicked. I jumped in place at Ilyan’s reaction before I began to run around the room, following instructions that I couldn’t hear. I collected items as Ilyan continued to yell, most of which I had never seen before. Candles and clothing mixed together with weird twigs, leather-bound books, and a golden box with bears embossed on the top. I kept running, the pile growing higher and higher until I was sure I had grabbed everything.

  I turned to face Ilyan, his back still to me as lightning erupted just beyond the balcony, so close he could almost stretch out and touch it. So close, that I wanted him to try.

  One after another the bolts hit the ground until the room was so full of light I had nowhere else to look than at the raging storm, and the dark-haired man who stood where Ilyan had been only moments before.

  Everything in me seized up at the sight of Ilyan’s father, his oppressive size holding me in place. I knew I was screaming. I could feel the terror ring clear as my heart rate increased. However, I heard nothing until he turned around, the wicked hunger in his eyes cutting through my soul.

  The sneer on Edmund’s lips turned into a laugh as he approached me. The silence left as my ears filled with the gut-wrenching laugh, the sound louder than it should have been, feeling like tar against my heart.

  I knew I was screaming louder, even though I couldn't hear the noise—I only heard Edmund’s laugh. I only saw the nightmare. I fought against the dream, my conscious mind begging me to wake up, but I only stood, glued in the icicles of Edmund’s eyes as he walked closer. Step by step he came until he was right in front of me... his hand reaching toward me, his laugh echoing in my ears.

  The laugh stopped as the dream ended, a loud gasp escaping my lips as I sat straight up in bed, Ilyan's arm falling off me.

  My chest shook as I gasped in large ragged breaths that followed me from the dream. My magic felt raw and ripped as I sat heaving, my muscles tensing uncomfortably in my fear. I pushed it away, pushed away the deep pulse of anger and hatred that flooded over me from the forest, but the raw edges of my magic seemed to be pulling it into me. I tried to calm myself, to loosen the pressure that had bound itself in my muscles, my eyes wide as I stared into the pitch dark of our room.

  “It was all a dream,” I said aloud, begging myself to believe it. “Just a dream.”

  I took in another quaking breath as I pushed my fear into nothing, turning toward the balcony that looked over the forest.

  I knew I shouldn’t look; I knew it was foolish, but I couldn't stop myself. I turned as the darkness of the cloud-covered sky met my eyes, a fork of lightning cutting through the dark and I jumped, only to be met with the empty balcony.

  I took one cleansing breath before there was a loud knock on the door, the sound echoing through the silence of the night.

  Fear tensed through my back as I pulled the blanket up to my chin, my fingers knitting through the soft cotton. My mind screamed for me to hide, to run. I stayed still, though, my body crippled in fear as my mind fought the panic that the ragged remains of the nightmare only seemed to heighten.

  I peered through the darkness that surrounded me as the knock came again, this sound more persistent, almost fearful. I looked toward Ilyan, ready to wake him up when a muffled noise came from the other side, and the anxiety that had wound its way through my spine loosened.

  “Open up,” Wyn pleaded, her voice low and strained.

  My eyes widened at her voice, my magic flying away from me until I felt the warm strength that surrounded her hit me. I should have felt the familiar pulse of her magic before, but the heightened aggression from the forest had smothered it, my own panic forgetting to check.

  It was her.

  I navigated my way through the darkness that felt heavy and forbidding, opening the door to Wyn to find the hallway lit with shadows of black and light from the orb of orange light that hovered above her hands. She was dressed in dark washed jeans and a black leather jacket that looked vaguely familiar, the dark colors making her blend into the pitch of the hallway.

  “Took you long enough,” she said as I opened the door, her voice strained. I had been so happy to hear her voice, but that joy slipped into the darkness as I caught sight of the deep worry that lined her face, my own anxieties trying to flare again.

  “Is Ilyan awake?” she asked, the panicked edge growing more persistent.

  “No.” I shook my head. “Is everything okay?”

  I asked the question, even though I could see the answer in her eyes.

  Wyn sighed and looked past me into the darkened room, her brows knit together as she tried to decide what to do. I just stood still as I waited, not knowing if I should let her in or not. I wasn't exactly sure of the protocol in a situation like this. I couldn’t exactly say, ‘Please come in and wake up your shirtless king. I'm sure he won't mind,’ and be met with happy smiles. Ilyan didn’t wake up easily. Besides, I was sure that he would mind a lot more than Wyn would assume. So I stayed still, my shoulders tense as I blocked her path, waiting for her to explain why she was here.

  “I'm not sure yet. I was on guard and… something has changed. I want Ilyan’s opinion,” she whispered as her eyes darted back to me, even though it was obvious I wasn’t the one she wanted to be talking to.

  It didn’t matter. I knew what she was talking about because I had felt it. I had felt the swell of anger when I had woken up. I could still feel it now, prickling through the air, no matter how much I tried to ignore it.

  “Is it about the anger in the camps?” I asked.

  “You feel it, too?” she asked, the awe in her eyes taking me off guard. I looked at her for a minute before nodding once, not sure how else to respond to her.

  “I don’t know what it is,” Wyn said, the deep alarm in her voice growing. “We haven’t had a bigger swell of them from what I can tell, but something is different.”

  Wyn shuffled her feet as she spoke, making it clear that there was something she wasn’t telling me. Something was wrong, something must be coming. If something was coming… I swallowed heavily, pushing the thought from my mind. Just knowing that something was wrong felt like a contagion against my heart. We needed Ilyan.

  “You better come in,” I said before stepping aside and closing the door behind her. I didn’t know if Ilyan would approve of this decision, but I had a feeling this was something he needed to know right away.

  The light Wyn held in her hands suddenly flew away from her and nestled in the large wooden rafters of the ceiling only to cast weird fingers of light over the room. It flickered in elongated shapes that brought some of the horrors of my dream back. I looked toward the window, almost expecting to see Edmund there, but it was empty.

  “It is so weird that you two sleep together,” she said from right behind me, obviously seeing the rumpled sheets that I had jumped out of a moment before.

  Embarrassment wiggled through my stomach at her observation. I suddenly felt very uncomfortable having her here, like she was seeing something that was meant for me and Ilyan only. I folded my arms around my torso, wishing I had made her wait outside, wishing I could ask her to leave.

  “I have nightmares,” I said, the attempt to defend my choice coming off flat. Not like it made any difference, especially since I hadn’t had any of those nightmares in months, weeks for everyone else.

  “Yes, Thom told me,” she said casually, and I narrowed my eyes at her. She had mentioned him more than once the few times that I had seen her, making it sound like Thom had somehow become her confidante in two days flat. I wanted to ask, but she wasn’t even looking at me anymore; her focus was out the large windows as she chewed on her lip.
/>   I was suddenly glad that Wyn wasn’t watching me as I draped my arm over Ilyan, leaning over him as I ran the tips of my fingers over the scars on his chest. I pushed the warm pressure of my magic into the thin white lines as I traced them, the small surges forcing him awake.

  Ilyan. I sent the whisper into his mind, knowing he could hear me even if he wasn’t fully alert. I need you to wake up.

  His alarm peaked at my statement, his fear for me heightening in apprehension. His arms wrapped around me without warning, pulling me into him before I could get away, my feet leaving the floor as he rolled me on top of him.

  “Jste all right, mi lasko?” His lips brushed against my jaw as he mumbled, his accent thick as he transitioned between English and Czech.

  I’m fine, I said as I tried to fight the blush that moved up my cheeks from being in this position with him in front of someone else. “Wyn is here.”

  “What do you mean Wyn is here?” he asked, his usual morning impatience invading his voice like the snap of a whip.

  “She means I am standing next to you, watching this horrible display,” Wyn’s voice was a sugar smack that I didn’t think I had heard from her before. “So, if you wouldn’t mind putting a shirt on...”

  I wasn’t sure if Wyn was being snotty or trying to be funny, but either way, I couldn’t ignore the way her presence made me feel guilty, or the way Ilyan’s hackles went up while the joy at having me in his arms vanished into frustration.

  I looked up at her and narrowed my eyes, confusion setting in. I did not understand where this snappy attitude was coming from, or even why she was talking to him like this. Wyn had always been so polite, so formal, to Ilyan. She had even told me on several occasions that they didn’t get along because she was scared of him.

  I looked to her, almost shocked to see her standing differently, her face a little more ruffled than fun loving. The change caught me off guard, almost like I was looking at someone else. I stretched my magic toward her, suddenly worried that it wasn’t her, but the magic was the same—if not a little warmer than it had been a few minutes before.

 

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