Scorched Treachery (Imdalind #3)

by Rebecca Ethington

  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 Drak’s 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 through me.

  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 medicine.

  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. Something was wrong.

  I said nothing to Thom as I placed the mug back on the table, my feet carrying me out of the room before I could even place the thought in my mind. I ran toward her as the fear grew within her, the panic turning into a yell on her lips, a yell that echoed through the walls of my ancient home.

  The sound vibrated around me 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 a door to my own rooms that she had obviously let Ryland through.

  “I cut it,” I lied, letting my feet take me closer to her, toward the door she leaned against and the girl I had to save.

  Ovailia, however, 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 the disgusting lies that had just spewed from her lips. 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 say such vulgar things about me!” 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, placing the magical strain in my voice this time. She started to move, her feet acting as if of their own accord as my magic forced her movements.

  I had made it to the door when a yell of pain shot through the heavy wooden door to my suite. I surged my magic into Joclyn, my energy finding the bruised cells in her cheek automatically.

  Ryland had punched her.

  With one burst of energy, my magic sent Ovailia flying away from the door, her body hitting the wall opposite as it flew from its hinges. In two steps, I was inside. I only needed a glimpse of Ryland’s arm pulling back in preparation for another punch before he too was forced away from her. His body hit stone with such force that a crack fanned away from him, breaking the ancient mortar that kept the wall steady.

  I just caught a glimpse of Joclyn rolling off the bed, her small, scared body wedging itself into the small space underneath it, before Ryland recovered himself and Ovailia had moved to his side the moment she entered the room.

  “Look what you have done, Ovailia!” I yelled at her in Czech, the look on Ryland’s face making it clear he understood every word. “I won’t play your games anymore.”

  “This wouldn’t have happened if you had just let him see his mate. Why couldn’t you do that, Ilyan? I don’t understand. Why can’t he see his mate?” Ovailia had placed just enough desperation in her voice to be able to claim sincerity. Her game was not very well covered, something I am sure she did on purpose.

  “I’m trying to keep him safe.”

  “Are you sure? It looks like you are just try
ing to keep her for yourself.” I felt my muscles tense, the anger within me strong enough to overcome my breeding and rip out of me in a yell over her foolish lie.

  “I’m not keeping her! I’m protecting her!” The royal façade had slipped, just as Ovailia wanted. My outcry only caused the ugly sneer on her lips to increase.

  “But he didn’t hurt her, did he?” Ovailia yelled as she transitioned smoothly to English.

  “Ovailia, he punched her when I came into the room!” I eyed them as I moved to the side of the bed, my position and posture making it very clear I wasn’t going to give her to them.

  “I didn’t see that,” Ovailia lied smoothly, the laugh that escaped Ryland’s mouth making it clear he believed her, that, like a child, he thought he had gotten away with something.

  “He’s going to lie anyway, Ovailia,” Ryland said. “He’s been feeding her lies. Just as you said.” Both my and Joclyn’s heart rate increased, but for entirely different reasons. Hers had accelerated in fear at the sound of Ryland’s voice, mine in the realization of loss. My sister had played her game well. She had manipulated what was left of Ryland’s mind just enough to turn him against me. I thought I had recovered enough of him when we had talked yesterday, but now I was not so sure.

  “What lies have you been telling him, Ovailia?” I said.

  “Nothing much. Two can play at this game, Ilyan.” The wicked honey texture of her voice flared as she smiled at me in exhilaration.

  Before anyone could say anything else, Joclyn’s heart rate increased. Her breathing picked up and her voice opened up into a howl so traumatized it wrenched through each of us. Even Ovailia looked surprised and somewhat pained. Ryland took a step forward, the desperation to comfort her evident, but I couldn’t let him. I couldn’t risk his life or put Joclyn through the pain.

  He would have to be patient.

  I looked at him, my eyes pleading for him to understand, begging him to give her space. He looked between Ovailia, whose wide eyes dug into him in warning, myself, and the bed, where Joclyn’s cries continued to wail before moving back against the wall. His choice was obvious.

  Even though Ovailia had taken away his trust in me, his longing for Joclyn was still stronger than the weak allegiance he had for Ovailia.

  Ovailia saw his choice, and I saw her pride stutter for just a moment, her head spinning toward me, her eyes flashing as her long hair swirled around her.

  “You’ll regret this, Ilyan.” I barely heard her voice above Joclyn’s yells.

  “I want you out, Ovailia! Leave the Abbey, and take your pathetic game with you.” I couldn’t control the level of my voice. The anger I felt at the loss of my sister hit me far deeper then I would have expected.

  Ovailia left quickly, the power in my voice not giving her a chance to question. Before the door had closed, I looked to Ryland, the pain was still evident in his face at not being able to help Joclyn, and his distrust of me rang strongly in his eyes. I couldn’t trust him either, but right now, I needed to focus on Joclyn.

  “Wait right outside the room, and keep the door open,” I instructed him in Czech. “I will let you see her in a few minutes.”

  I did not intend to let him in to see her, not after what he had done to her face, but I needed his trust, and I needed him close. I would have to settle for some middle ground until I figured out what to do with the two damaged weapons that fate had placed in my care.

  I dropped to the floor the second Ryland had left, pressing myself against it to look at Joclyn between the gap of the floor and the bed. With my full focus on her, I let my magic surge. It filled her completely as I calmed her, steadied her heart, and soothed her joints. She just looked at me with her beautiful eyes as her fear slowly dissipated.

  When her heart rate was almost level, level enough not to trigger an attack, or so I hoped, I reached forward toward her, my hand extended in help, in safety. Even though I longed for it, she did not reach for me; her eyes only looked at the gesture for a moment before returning to my face, making it clear she had no interest in going anywhere yet.

  I flattened myself against the floor, keeping my eyes on hers as I pressed myself against the bed frame, not able to make my body fit underneath the tiny gap.

  “I’m sorry, Jos. I will make you safe. I will make you whole again,” I whispered to her, not willing to take my eyes off her, letting the safety I wanted her to feel radiate off my skin.

  She just stared at me, her bright eyes shining. I could see the hope in them, the small spark as her mind worked through what I had said.

  Believe it.

  I said the words to myself, wishing there was a way to say them aloud, to make her feel them and know it was true.

  It was the only promise I could give her, but one I would work until my dying day to make happen. I wanted her to be whole, to be happy. I wanted to see that smile on her face again.

  Her eyes were welcoming and so I took a chance and moved myself under the frame, lifting the heavy wood just enough to make room. She didn’t shy away from me; she kept still, so I continued to move until I was right up against her, our bodies wedged in the tiny space under the bed, a place that offered Joclyn security.

  I lay near her, and we looked into each other’s eyes, hers panicked, mine soft. Before I was even aware she had moved, her fingers reached up to run through the short hair that now lined the top of my head. My heart jolted at the contact, a smile coming to my lips as I moved a bit closer. I wanted her touch to continue but her hand left, my movement obviously too much too fast.

  “I cut it for you, after what you said in Italy. When you couldn’t wake up… I was…” I had to stop. I didn’t know what to say, how to explain what had happened. How do you tell the woman you love about the fear and pain you felt when you thought you had lost her? Even thinking about it brought the anxiety I had felt back into my gut.

  Her fingers brushed my arm in apology before she moved into me, her body melding against mine. My arms moved around her as if they belonged there, even though they didn’t. But for this moment, because she needed them, they did, they needed to. She could have whatever she needed from me until I could make her whole.

  Our song filled our cramped space as I sang and held her against me. My lips brushed against the skin of her temple as I sang, the raw skin of my palm rubbing up and down her arm, opening the connection between us again.

  I felt her heart as it beat alongside mine. I felt her breathing as it calmed and settled into a rate that was almost near my own. I let my magic surge into her, let it swirl through her as it calmed her and she became the strong girl she was only a few weeks ago.

  I could give her that back, and I would.

  I would stand by her, love her, and protect her until the day I died.

  We stayed like that, pressed against each other for a few precious minutes. Minutes that would forever be marked in my mind as the last before everything fell apart.

  The last moment until I heard a yell I thought I would never hear. The sound of death and love and heartbreak all melded into a scream that I knew would signal the start of a war.

  Ovailia’s voice rang through the Abby, the sound of Sain’s name on her lips.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Joclyn jumped in my arms at the name, her heart beating rapidly in recognition. Her silver eyes looked into mine in longing and fear, the pupils growing as Ovailia’s shout rang out again.

  “Stay here,” I instructed quietly, the words causing her heart to thump wildly. “Stay under the bed. I will shield you here and keep you safe.”

  She said nothing, and for once, I wished she would. I wished she would snap back at me about how I couldn’t tell her what to do or make a joke about the ridiculous situation. But nothing came but a slow nod of understanding.

  I looked into her eyes for one more second as another scream tore through the air.

  “I love you, and I will always protect you.” It was foolish of me to say, and I shouldn’t have don
e it, but I couldn’t stop myself. Hearing Sain’s name echo through the Abbey only triggered a million warnings of what was coming, and I wanted her to hear it. I wanted to leave her with one beautiful thing.

  I was gone before she could respond. I left the shield over her body as I took off through the door, only to signal for Ryland to follow me. We flew out through the window, my body speeding through the air to land in the large courtyard, the camps of the Trpaslíks glittering in the forest behind us.

  Dirt and rocks exploded into the air on my landing, the ground rocking with my anger at what was unfolding before me.

  Ovailia stood in the center of the garden ruins, her feet having taken her out of the Abbey and directly into the path of an escaped pair seeking shelter.

  I almost couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw them.

  Sain and Wynifred.

  Sain was on the ground between Ovailia and me, his hair long and shaggy, a long beard plastered on his face. He looked even more haggard than when he had sought me out to tell me of Joclyn’s existence. He cried toward Ovailia, pleading with her in Czech, French, and Mandarin only for Ovailia to counter each plea angrily, her arms moving around and tossing a small, weak-looking figure through the air with each gesture.

  Wynifred screamed as Ovailia flung her around, her body writhing in pain as she flopped through the air. Wynifred was weak, her clothes dirty and bloodstained, but it was the marks on her skin that yelled danger to me. They were what was causing her pain, not Ovailia.

  The jagged spirals and flares had begun to move and shift, the dark black shifting over her skin like a living infection. I knew at once what had happened. When Cail had died his lock on the zánik curse had been removed. The marks were releasing their poison into her body, and after a hundred years, the curse was going to complete itself and end in Wynifred’s death.

  Once again, I was going to fail in my task to save someone. After hundreds of years working for me, Wynifred’s sacrifice was going to be for nothing.