Soul of Flame (Imdalind Series #4) (13 page)

“No, Joclyn. I never meant it in that way. It is not viewed as being that way among my kind,” he pleaded, his voice deep as the royal strain that he had very rarely used toward me tried to take control. I flinched at the tone, at the implications behind it. Whether he meant it or not, he was speaking to me just like my father had, reminding me how little I knew.

“I don’t believe you. You lied to me,” I growled under my breath, trying to ignore the life-wrenching tension that pinched at my heart. “You kissed me, you held me, you slept beside me, you ran your fingers through my hair… and all the while you planned to hand me over to the man who has done nothing but try to kill me for the past few months. Like I was some unwanted pet.”

My voice grew as I spoke, the deep rumble that had taken control before Ilyan had stopped me from killing Ryland coming back. My magic and hurt melded together until the room began to shake. The shields that Ilyan had placed over the windows vanished with the shattering pulse. With the barriers gone, the wind from outside flooded the room in a wave of swirling energy that surrounded us, the rain I had wanted to feel against my skin gone now.

“No, Joclyn, that was never my intention. I told him such things to calm him, but when I spoke to you, I realized that the love you two shared was gone, forever broken because of my father.”

I stared into him. I wanted to believe him, desperately. I couldn’t, though; I couldn’t see beyond what Ilyan had told Ryland, not why or with what intention. Just the simple fact that he had said it. I was blinded by my heartbreak, letting it guide me, no matter how hard my better judgment cried for me to stop.

“Why did you kiss me?” I asked, careful to keep my breathing even.

“Because I am in love with you. You. I fell in love with you when I held you broken and screaming, when I dried your tears, and as I watched your strength grow. I kissed you because my soul, my heart, and every part of me is yours,” Ilyan whispered, his hands stretching toward me as he tried to pull me into him the way he had always done.

My heart faltered at seeing his hands there—at the comfort I knew he could give me—knowing that I could just step into his arms and let them wrap around me; yet I couldn’t move. As much as my soul berated me for being ridiculous, I couldn’t see beyond the pain and the lies that my mind had formed.

“Because you own me!” I spat. My heart tightened, and I stepped away from him, not wanting to give in, to let him win. To let him think that what he had done was okay. “I am not property! I don’t need to be owned. I don’t need someone else to be strong. I am strong on my own.”

“I know, my love. I see that more than any other.” Ilyan’s voice was soft, the serenity of it fueling the calm that swelled beneath my anger; but it wasn’t enough to let it break through.

“Then why won’t you leave me alone?”

“Because I am your protector. I was born to keep you safe, to help you find strength enough to fight the Trpaslíks that surround us.”

“What if I don’t want that?” I snapped, my fists clenching at my sides as I yelled at him. “I don’t need someone to save me, to own me.”

“No one owns you, mi lasko, least of all me. Ryland only thinks that way because of how he has been raised.” Ilyan took another step toward me as he spoke, his eyes indulgent.

I stepped away farther, my arms coming up to wrap around my torso, my fists tangling around the fabric of my shirt in an attempt to keep them there. I clung to my shirt as I looked into him, the hair that had come loose from the braid fanning around my face in the wind that was now little more than a gentle breeze.

“You told Ryland he could have me, but all he does is hurt me.”

“He cannot help it—the same way you cannot harness your desire to kill him. Edmund has seen to that. He has no more control of his emotions than you do at this very moment.”

I could hear the truth in Ilyan’s words, my own memories mixing with them until the anger that had stopped my heart lessened, leaving only a dull pain that crippled me. I couldn’t help it—the tears came freely through the anger. I could feel the heat of them behind my eyes, the cold, wet trails against my nose.

I ignored them, my voice rising in desperation.

“He was in perfect control of his thoughts when he tried to cut me apart and when he punched me. That wasn’t in Cail’s mind, Ilyan!” I stepped closer, my voice rising as it broke and bled with my heartbreak.

“Joclyn, I need you to understand me,” Ilyan said, his voice straining as he rushed me, his hands moving to clench around my biceps. I tried to step away, but he held me tightly, keeping me in place as his magic surged between our skin, his desperate need to calm me hot against my body. “It was not really Ryland inside of Cail’s mind.”

“Then who was it?” I asked, demanding the answer that I knew Ilyan wouldn’t give me. “Because the Ryland you seem to trust just attacked me, the same as before.”

Ilyan stared into me before he moved away from me, his hands dropping from my arms as he dragged his hand over his short hair in frustration. His steps took him away from me before he rushed back, the intensity of his eyes catching me off guard and causing me to flinch.

“You must listen to me, Joclyn,” Ilyan demanded, in a tone he rarely used on me. “He can’t control it, mi lasko. His heart and soul have been diced apart. His very essence has been separated in your name, in love, and by others who try to work against you. They have torn him apart, and he doesn’t know what is right anymore. His father rent his soul in two in order to torture you, and before that, Ryland cut out a piece of his own heart in the hopes to protect you.”

I listened to Ilyan’s words, the familiarity of them scaring me. Ryland had said the same things in the nightmares. Cail had taunted me with them for months while he had tried to erase my mind. Hearing them repeated through Ilyan ran through me like cement, cold and unmoving. I didn’t want to hear it. I didn’t want to believe it.

“What are you saying?” I asked, my voice softer than I expected.

“The necklace he gave you, the one you wore for months, the one that bound you to him. The necklace that bridged you to him and opened up your Tȍuha. It isn’t a ruby. It is a diamond with a shard of his heart. It is possibly the only untarnished piece that is left of him.”

I heard him, I understood him, but I couldn’t process it. Everything was ice and pain and cold and hard within me. Something like that, it couldn’t be true. It couldn’t. It was just another lie.

“You’re lying!”

“I would never lie to you, my love. Never. I only ask that you understand why he is broken, why he sees you as an enemy.” Ilyan came right up to me, his hand soft as he pushed the hair out of my face, the scarred palm warm against my skin before it made contact with my mark, making my body jump. I should have found joy in the jolt of the connection—the way he seemed to—but I couldn’t. I couldn’t let my heart feel the joy it wanted so desperately, no matter how much it begged for it.

“Are you on his side? Is that why you told him you didn’t want me?” I snapped, shoving his hands away from me as I foolishly stood my ground. When the action heightened as my magic surged, he skidded across the floor away from me, his back hitting the wall with a giant jolt.

Ilyan squared his jaw and looked up at me, the anger and surprise flexing through his muscles. I clenched my teeth and returned the gaze, my body radiating with my outrage.

“To se nehodí, Joclyn. Nevím, kolikrát jsem ti řekl, co je v mém srdci a ty si mi nevěřila!” He screamed at me, and I jumped, the anger in his voice catching me off guard.

I knew I should have stood down. I could feel the waves of his magic surge through the air, his fury bubbling through them as they heated the air in warning.

“If you don’t want me then just leave. Me. Alone!” I screamed at him, my voice cracking as I forced out the sound. I balled my fists against my pant legs as I screamed, my body leaning toward him with each heightened word.

“Do not speak to me in such a way, Joclyn!” Ilyan yelled, the deep strain of his royal blood taking over his voice as he walked toward me. He talked to me like I was nothing more than a servant or one of the subjects he had ruled over for years. The words cut through me, my mind screaming at me again to stand down—to apologize—but I couldn’t make myself do it. He had never spoken to me that way before.

“Why? Because you are the king?King of no one—they are all dead. You are just a guy on a power trip!” The words came out of my mouth like vomit. My brain and heart disconnected from them as my shattered heart fueled them. I didn’t know why I said them or where they had come from, but I couldn’t stop them. The words were out as my anger grew, Ilyan’s magic retreating from me as I pushed him away one last time.

“Joclyn!” Ilyan yelled, his attempt to berate me obvious, but he couldn’t seem to get the words out. I didn’t really give him a chance.

“I don’t care about who you are. Who you used to be,” I spat, my temper continuing to fuel my words. My heart clenched up as I said it, the pulse deep and rumbling as if it had somehow forgotten how to beat.

“Tímhle spůsobem se mnou mluvit nesmíš! Nemůžeš si to dovolit. Možná, že já jsem to udělal, ale ty nejsi mého rodu, Nedávam ti své svolení!” he yelled back, the words so quick that even if I understood them, I wasn’t sure I would have been able to make anything out.

“Speak English!” My voice cracked as it broke and fizzled into nothing, the tears washing it away.

“Learn Czech!” Ilyan spat, his magic surging as a giant crack broke through the air. I jumped at the sound, turning toward the noise just as feathers began to fall over us, the last surviving remains of the bed that Ilyan’s temper had just ripped to shreds.

I looked back to Ilyan as he pulled a silver chain from his pocket, the red ruby glinting in the dim light before he threw it to the ground, the soft tinkling of it against the stone echoing off the shards of what was left of my heart. I looked at it for a minute before turning back to Ilyan, his eyes glistening with his own tears, and my heart tightened.

I hadn’t meant to hurt him. I hadn’t meant what I had said. Any of it. I had said it in my anger, and afterwards the regret that it brought threatened to kill me.

I looked at his face and my heart shattered over the stone floor between us, a million shards of pain and regret. I opened my mouth to say something, to plead forgiveness, to take it all back. Nothing came, and Ilyan stormed out, the door slamming behind him as I flinched and fell to the ground.

The rage I had been so ignorantly holding onto left, an incomprehensible sadness taking its place. My arm twitched as my muscles constricted, a small sob escaping my lips. I didn’t want to feel this. I preferred the anger that disguised the words that Ryland had ingrained into me.

My filthy hands wound around my hair as I tried to push the emotion away, as I attempted to stop the anxiety from taking over. I pushed at it, forcing it away, until my shoulders loosened and the crippling sadness took its place. The anger that had been so strong was now only a small spark within me.

I started to cry before I was aware of it, the strong fabric of my magic pushing away from me, through walls, through the Štít, in desperation to find him, to apologize, to calm him—anything.

I didn’t find him. He had blocked me as effectively as I had blocked him. He had left me alone.

I didn’t blame him.

Nine

I held completely still after he left. I don't think I could have moved if I tried. Everything felt dead inside of me. I just stared at the door as the tears coursed down my face, my breathing working itself into a panic. I knew I should calm down; somewhere in the back of my mind my heart screamed at me to relax, to go after him, to do something.

I couldn't make myself do any of it.

So I stood still and stiff like a rail while the desperation constricted my muscles. The anxiety that my anger had taken away came back so fast that I gasped, my back tensing.

I didn’t even try to fight the fear and desperation that Cail had ingrained in me. I let it infiltrate me like a virus; I let it destroy me. It seemed fitting, after all. I had just said the cruelest, most terrible things to someone who meant more to me than anyone else. I had hurt him. What was worse, I had known I was doing it, and I hadn’t stopped myself.

The tears kept falling as my body began to shake, my breathing swelling until a deep wail rose from my throat, the tears turning to ugly sobs. I didn't even try to wipe them away; I just let them slide down my face, reflecting the agony that was ripping me apart.

From somewhere else in the abbey, a loud scream of heartbreak and loss echoed mine. The desperation of Ilyan’s broken heart shook the walls around me. My heart tensed at the familiarity of the sound. The pain that mirrored my own. The loss, the agony.

I jumped at the deep growl that followed the crash of wood and stone, the floor rocking underneath me. Everything tightened as my anxiety began weaving its way up my spine, the tight bands of my insanity taking over. My arms moved around my stomach, my fingers clutching at my shirt as the wails that had been for Ilyan turned into my own cries of pain and sadness.

Another distant yell followed the others. Another rumble shook the abbey, and my body reacted, my feet dragging me to the only place where my fractured mind promised me I could find safety. Tears streaked down my face as I ran past the big, beautiful bed that Ilyan had destroyed and into the bathroom that had been my security so many times before.

I slid against the wall as I wedged myself between the toilet and the sink, almost sighing with relief as the furniture pressed against me, holding me in place. Holding me together.

The abbey continued to roll and groan with Ilyan’s pain and anger as I gasped for air. I had heard warning of his temper for months, and in that moment I understood what everyone had meant. What I had done to him.

The residual aroma from the bath Ilyan had drawn for me was still infused in the tile and wood of the small space. The sweet and spicy smells filled me as I breathed, taking away the hard edge of the anxiety that was cutting through me.