Soul of Flame (Imdalind Series #4) (43 page)

BOOK: Soul of Flame (Imdalind Series #4)
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His lips lingered as his magic flowed to check for any internal injuries he might have missed. I moved down carefully to kneel in front of him, my knees digging into the hard stone as I met him eye to eye in the darkness of the cave.

I could still see the regret, feel his worry. It hurt that I couldn’t take away that feeling of failure. It was more than just my injury that was bothering me, though; it was failure of another kind.

“I will kill him, Ilyan,” I whispered, my voice hard with the conviction I knew he shared. “I know the sight has changed, but I will find a way.”

“I know you will. I will fight alongside you,” he said, his voice soft as his hand moved over my shoulder and down to my elbow. “Let’s just hope we can get to Prague before the Vilỳs do too much damage and the city is lost.”

After everything that had happened, I had almost forgotten about everything that I had seen in the sight that I had shared with Sain before Dramin had awakened. Just hearing Ilyan speak about it—feeling his worry for his home—brought the images into my mind along with Sain’s promise that the sight had already happened.

But it hadn’t already happened. Dramin had told me that past sights were always dimmed, the pictures and voices echoed. These were clear as day. What was more, I had been in them. I had been running into the rock wall; I had been sitting on the rooftop.

I don’t know why Sain would have said they had already happened; why he would have lied. I had watched as the sky rained with Vilỳs. I had seen a small child screaming amongst the rubble...

“I don’t think that attack has begun,” I said, my voice deep as my Drak blood flared.

Ilyan’s eyes widened as I spoke, his confusion clear as the grip against my elbow increased. My magic ignited right along his, the uncertainty rumbling through me.

“What are you saying?” Ilyan asked, his voice deep.

I swallowed, my eyes darting away as I tried to figure out what to say to him. I wasn’t quite sure if explaining the way the images weren’t dimmed would be clear enough. Besides, it was more than just the images; it was a feeling. Something that my blood promised was still to come.

“In my sight, it felt like it was
coming
,” I explained, hoping it was enough.

It was. Ilyan’s jaw clenched, a feral growl rumbling through his chest as he understood.

“You mean we could be heading into a trap?”

He said the words and my blood sped up as if in answer. We were walking into a trap. Somehow, the sights had been broken even before we had run into the forest, perhaps even before I had healed Dramin. Something had changed and the fate of our future had been manipulated. I wasn’t sure how, but I knew one thing: Nothing was guaranteed anymore.

“Yes,” I gasped as I reached toward him, my fingers winding around the fabric of his shirt in desperation.

“But you had that sight before the battle.”

“I know,” I gasped. “And the caves? I saw those after I healed Wyn. Before I even healed Dramin; before our bonding. Why am I seeing things before the sight was broken; things that happen after I was supposed to die?”

“I don’t know. Sain will know.”

“I don’t trust him, Ilyan. I feel like he isn’t telling me something.” I had expected Ilyan to fight me on my statement, to try to convince me that I was wrong, but he stayed still, his head nodding slightly in understanding. Almost as if he agreed with me.

“We will figure this out and find a way to end this together.” Ilyan’s hand moved from my elbow to the exposed skin of my hip as he spoke, the promise so clear in his eyes that it took my breath away.

I knew we would because, even though so much of the sight had come to pass, there was much more still hidden from us. And if there was one thing that boiled in my blood and promised me of its fruition, it was that I would be the one to kill Edmund.

“I will defeat Edmund, Ilyan. I was born to do so, and even though the sight has changed, I know that I will with you by my side.”

“I know you will,” he said, his thumb running over the raised skin of my scar, the movement heating my sensitive blood, the need for his touch sparking deep.

I reached up and ran my fingers over his lips as his eyes met mine, the fire in them hot and dangerous. I smiled at the look, my hand sliding around his neck as I pulled him to me, his lips meeting mine for the first time in what felt like days.

I sighed at the pressure, at the way our magic flared and heated. He wrapped his arm around my waist as he pulled me against him, his hand a wide fan against my back.

I groaned at the pressure, the sound coming out much louder than I had expected it to be in the stillness of the cave. It echoed around us only to have the laugh of the camp echo back, Thom’s joyous taunt following the echo.

“Sound barrier, Brother!” he yelled.

Everything froze in me, and I pulled away, suddenly wishing I could find a way to hide.

Ilyan, however, smiled, his arms pulling me back into him as he kissed me again. I smiled at the contact, moving to stand when he did. Our hesitant feet took us back to the fire, Ilyan’s shield dropping from us once we were bathed in the light of the fire.

Thankfully, when we returned, Thom and Wyn seemed occupied in some form of heated conversation while Sain kneeled over Ryland, leaving Dramin and his wide smile to greet us. A shock of embarrassed pleasure moved up my spine at the look Dramin gave me, and I turned into Ilyan, his hand wrapping around my waist on instinct. It was that touch that flared in me, and I turned my eyes, squinting through the dark in search of the hoodie we had left behind.

“Be proud, my love,” Ilyan whispered in my ear, obviously picking up on my alarm. I looked up at him only to be met by his sweet smile. He kissed me once on the cheek before moving away toward where Sain was crowded over Ryland.

I remained still after he left me, feeling very out of place standing in the middle of everyone, fully aware that Thom could see the braid from where he sat behind me. I looked around in confusion until Dramin met my eyes, his face wide and happy as he lifted a mug toward me.

I couldn’t help grinning at the action, happy to have somewhere to go and not to stand like a loon for much longer. I slid down the wall next to him, Dramin handing me the mug in silence before he turned back to where Sain and Ilyan gathered around Ryland, the steam from his water floating through the air.

We sat in silence as we drank, the quiet feeling comfortable and almost needed. After all, there wasn’t anything that needed to be said. I could feel Dramin’s comfort at making it through the battle alive, and in a lot of ways I felt the same way. I could have asked him about the sights, but I knew he already knew, and nothing we said about it now would change anything; there was always tomorrow.

I rested my head back against the stone wall, and for the first time in what felt like days, I wanted to find rest. Thanks to the Drak blood that flowed through my veins, I wasn’t tired, but my body was exhausted.

I leaned against the rock wall as Sain stepped away from Ryland, leaving Ilyan alone with his brother as he came to join us. He didn’t take his eyes off me as he sat on the other side of Dramin, the intensity of his stare making me uncomfortable. I could tell at once he had something to say, some sort of blame for our failure, for the broken sights. For anything.

I didn’t want to hear it.

My jaw stiffened uncomfortably as I looked stubbornly into the fire, then at the grey rock that surrounded us, anywhere other than at the potent look he had fixed me with.

“Joclyn,” Sain began, his voice softer than it had been, almost a whisper.

I could tell he wanted me to turn to him, but I wasn’t going to give him that. So I stayed still, letting the whisper of what came next wash over me.

“I am so sorry for treating you the way I have. After waiting so long to have you return…” He paused, his head hanging down as his shoulders rose and fell.

I waited, waited for more to come.

Wishing I could block him out in some way.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I should not expect so much of you. I am glad to see you alive.”

I jerked toward him, my jaw working as I let his words seep into me. I just stared at him, not trusting his words, not wanting to believe them. He had told me hours before that he would celebrate my death, and now he was grateful for my life.

I didn’t really think he felt either of those.

I nodded once, not trusting myself to say anything. Sain’s face fell ever so slightly before he moved away from me and leaned against the wall.

I turned away from him just as Ilyan moved away from Ryland to Thom and Wyn, who already looked to be half asleep. Wyn had her head resting on Thom’s shoulder and didn’t even move as he approached. Thom only nodded in feigned sleep at whatever Ilyan said before Ilyan moved over to us.

“We are going to rest for five hours before we move again. We need to get to the safe house above the clock before night falls tomorrow, so the earlier start we get, the better.” Dramin nodded his head at Ilyan’s words, and I had a sinking sensation that he had already known what Ilyan was going to say.

“Sain has said we will be safe while we sleep, so I suggest everyone rest,” Ilyan continued, the deep presence of the king heavy in the darkness of the cave.

Sain and Dramin both nodded their heads before closing their eyes, their bodies already relaxing in feigned sleep. I wasn’t sure the Drak would let them sleep.

Come, my love,
Ilyan whispered into my mind, his hand extended toward me. I set Dramin’s mug down as Ilyan pulled me to standing. His fingers weaved through mine as I followed him to the other side of the fire where the last open space sat across from where Ryland slept. Everyone else was laid before us like the spokes of the wheel. I could see them all. I don’t know why, but for some reason the thought made me calm.

I slid down onto the rock as I tried to get comfortable, careful to keep my braid from touching the rough rock behind me.

“Are you tired?” Ilyan asked as he sat beside me, his voice soft in my ear as he leaned toward me.

“No,” I whispered, my spine shivering at the feeling of Ilyan’s breath against my neck.

I turned my head toward him, pressing my lips against his forehead as I leaned into him. I could feel the exhaustion in his body. I could sense his heart rate slowing as my magic flowed into him.

“Go to sleep,” I whispered against him as I pressed him down into my lap.

His body settled into me as I moved the hair that had come free of my haphazard braid out of his face. I ran my fingers over the stubble on his jawline, the bridge of his nose, then the soft skin over his eyes. I traced the lines of his face as he relaxed, moving closer to sleep at the contact. He looked up at me as my finger ran over his neck, his bright eyes blazing.

I love you,
M
ůj kamarád,
he whispered into my mind as his eyes closed, his body relaxing against me as his arm moved to wind around my legs.

I sat still underneath him as I continued to touch him, his body still under my caress, relaxing further with each touch as his breathing lengthened and I was sure he was asleep.

I sat in the dark as I listened to Ilyan’s breathing—the deep, calming tempo of everyone’s breathing relaxing—but it was Ilyan’s that moved through me, that rocked me. I could feel the calming pulse of his heart. I could hear the sleepy fragments of his thoughts as his dreams flowed through me. I heard our song in his mind as he slept, my lips humming through the silence as I joined him, my heart swelling at the depth of the connection we shared.

I had never felt so calm. Nothing had ever felt so right.

I closed my eyes as I finished the song, letting the warmth of the fire that still blazed among the rocks kiss my face.

“Does he make you happy?” The voice came out of nowhere. It was so familiar that it should have been calming, yet it only had the opposite effect.

My spine stiffened as my eyes snapped toward Ryland, his body so still he could have been sleeping, but I had heard his voice, and I would know it anywhere.

Waves of impregnated fear washed over me, the emotions strong as I pushed them away, knowing that now was not the time for a fight, and agitating Ryland would only end in disaster.

“Yes,” I answered, my voice tight as I tried to keep my anger at bay.

“I can tell,” Ryland said, his voice just as relaxed as before. He sighed and turned onto his back, his body flopping over as his eyes stayed focused above him into the hard, black of the roof of the cave. I was glad he didn’t look at me; I didn’t think that either of our emotional instabilities could handle that right now.

I looked away from him, careful to keep my focus on the fire, even though I could still see him, just in front of me through the flames. I just looked, not knowing what else to say, secretly hoping that he would fall back to sleep.

“The way you look at him, the way he looks at you, it’s different than with us. It’s better.” Ryland’s voice remained calm. He spoke casually and the fear that had stiffened my spine relaxed, the tone of his voice giving me hope that maybe we could share a real conversation; that maybe things could get better. “He’s made you better.”

“Is that a good thing?” I whispered. Even though I knew better than to egg him on, right then I couldn’t help it. It seemed so natural, so much like how it used to be all those months ago.

“Yeah,” he said, the smile clear in his voice, and I couldn’t help it; I looked.

My eyes shot over to him just as his lips turned up, his eyes darting over to mine before returning to the ceiling, obviously worried that looking at me would ignite his monster. I understood the fear, I felt the same way. I looked away as fast as he did, my heartbeat accelerating as I tried desperately to calm it.

I focused on the beat, on slowing it down as the silence stretched between us. I could feel the thump, the fear, until it left, leaving a silence that made me wonder if we had somehow ruined our chance.

As much as I wanted to sit with him the way we used to, we still weren’t there. Not yet.

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