Soul of Flame (Imdalind Series #4) (26 page)

Ilyan stood a few feet away from me, his arms folded across his chest as he towered over all of us, watching me. He didn’t flinch when I looked at him, making it clear he was not going to step into this verbal assault I had gotten myself into. His eyes met mine and his lip twitched into a small smile, the love that shone through his eyes seeming to recharge the control over my madness that my father’s disappointment had weakened.

“Tell me why, Sain.”

“You healed him because of your own fear, Silnỳ, because of your regret at what you did to him. You acted on a selfish, mortal desire, nothing more.”

A selfish, mortal desire. No. It was so much more than that. I attempted to keep the anger I had so recently controlled in check, but I already knew it was a lost cause. It boiled inside of me, looking for a way out.

“I saved my brother’s life. I did what was right,” I said in a growl. I did not need to explain myself, not to him.

“No. You have changed the forces of the sights with a childish choice. You have destroyed us.”

I had wanted an answer, but instead I only got more questions, and judging by the way everyone’s eyes narrowed toward Sain, I could tell that I wasn’t the only one.

“What are you saying?” Wyn’s voice shook from where she stood by the door, her query putting voice to what everyone else was thinking.

“You change the sights, you change the world. Is it that hard to understand?” Sain spoke to everyone around us before glaring back at me as if I was the one who had asked the question, the one who had changed the world.

“Why haven’t I been told of this before?” Ilyan asked, his voice rumbling in anger.

“Not all the knowledge that the Drak possess is meant for you, Ilyan.”

“So I am noticing.” Ilyan’s anger washed through me as he scowled at Dramin before his eyes glanced back to Sain. “I am king of this people, Sain. I should know…”

“And I am of the first! I will keep from you what I deem.”

“You will keep nothing from me!” Ilyan roared, the defiant glare that Sain had born into him melting away.

“The sights of my people are infallible; it is the choices of others that burn them away.”

“Are you meaning to say that we could fail? That the fight, that all of this… is for nothing?” Ilyan’s voice roared through the room, his anger so volatile that I flinched.

“Anything is possible now, My Lord,” Sain said, the glare of his eyes darting toward me again. “If this is to be one of the Zlomený, there will be a sign that it has broken, but for now all is still in place.”

“That really doesn’t comfort me, Sain,” Ilyan growled as he moved closer to me, his hand pressing against mine for the briefest of moments before it was gone.

Ilyan’s rancid anger remained heavy in me as he moved away. I fought the urge to reach out and hold him, to push my magic into him and calm him, but Ryland’s head had jerked up at Ilyan’s close proximity to me, his supposed ownership flashing in his eyes. It was better not to try his patience right now—the emotions in the room were high enough as it was.

“I am sorry, My Lord, but I cannot control the foolish changes others would make.” The timber in Sain’s voice changed as he spoke, his eyes burning right back toward me. “Their magic should have told them as much.”

“My magic told me to heal him!”

“No Drak magic would do such a thing.”

“What do you want from me?” I screamed as I rushed toward him.

I didn’t know what he expected of me. I wasn’t even sure what I expected of him, but it wasn’t this. It wasn’t this man, who looked so much like my father and spoke in that calm determination that cut through me. It wasn’t this Drak who expected impossible things from me.

“I expect you to do as my bloodline demands of you!” Sain yelled, his voice darkening as his eyes did, the green fading to the black of sight. I cringed against it, not wanting to hear what was coming. “In the end, when the sky rains fire, a new life will rise as another falls, and in your hands is our salvation.”

My breath caught in my chest as his eyes lightened. I could feel my magic grasp at the sight he had just given, desperate to understand it. I held it back though,
I
didn’t care. Not right then. I don’t think I would have cared if the sight had told me exactly how to kill Edmund. I didn’t want to hear it. Not from him.

“It is your destiny.”

“I will decide my own destiny,” I growled through gritted teeth, my eyes digging dangerously into his before I turned away, unwilling to see any more.

“Is that why you are treating her like a pariah, Tatínek? Because it is her destiny?” Dramin’s voice was soft from behind me.

“She should know of our ways, accept them, and become better than us. If she is to become all that I have seen, then it is the only way,” Sain growled. I could tell just by listening to the tone in his voice that he believed that. That he doubted nothing.

I couldn’t.

In the sights, I had seen the amazing things that were expected of me, but it wasn’t until Ilyan held me—until Ilyan supported me—that I had felt even a sliver of possibility of being the girl I had seen. If Ilyan had taught me anything, it was to do what was right.

I couldn’t deny that.

“You must let her become who she is, not who you saw, Tatínek. The rest will come,” Dramin said with the deep parental wisdom I had expected from him.

“I have never believed in such trifles, my son. I expect more of those who hold my blood.”

“I know this, Tati, but she does not. Perhaps it is time that you think of what needs she has of you,” Dramin said softly as his hand reached toward mine, pulling me to him. “I have seen her overcome amazing trials, accept herself for who she is, and accept her title…”

“But it is not enough,” Sain interrupted him with a growl. His words made everything feel like such an oppressive weight against my heart that I could barely breathe.

I looked toward Ilyan, his eyes soft as he looked into me, the pride I had sought for during the past few minutes so strong within him that it caught in my chest, my heart swelling comfortably as Ilyan gave me what I had so desperately been looking for.

A family.

My body seemed to swell in a white light at the realization, the fight that raged around me meaning nothing now.

“Stop, Tatínek,” Dramin rumbled, his harsh words making his own father stop in his tracks. “You are speaking like an old man kept too long in the dark. Do not let Edmund’s poison infiltrate your soul. Even you know that your sight told us—that only her Protector can make her strong enough. It is only Ilyan who can make her who she needs to be.”

I saw Ryland flinch out of the corner of my eye at the use of Ilyan’s name in connection to me, yet I couldn’t look away from Ilyan. Dramin’s strong grip on my hand was the only thing keeping me from running to him.

“Ilyan has been with her through all, training her, protecting her, keeping her safe even at night when the nightmares plagued her. When Cail stole her mind, he held her,” Dramin said as he pleaded with our father, begging him to see what everyone else had seen all along.

“Is this true?”

“Yes. It is my birthright, my desire, to protect her, and I will do all in my power to see that happen,” Ilyan said, the royal tone in his voice catching me off guard after the gentle look I had just seen in his eyes. He broke the spell he had trapped me under as he looked toward my father.

“You have held her through all of it?” Sain asked, his voice strangely soft and accepting after the rejection I had been plagued with.

“Always,” Ilyan’s voice was so soft, so calm, as he walked up to me, his body so close I could feel the heat of his skin against my bare arms.

I looked toward him, sure that the message was more to me than to Sain. My hands shook with need as I reached toward him, desperate to feel the pulse of his magic, the warmth of his skin, and to have our souls move back to where they belonged.

Ilyan’s eyes captured me as he answered my call, his hand pulling me into him as his magic plunged into me at the touch. I pulled his magic into me, our souls relaxing as they moved together. I sighed at the contact, my head moving to rest against his chest.

“Get your hands off her!” Ryland’s rabid scream broke the peace that had consumed me. The walls rocked as his magic exploded along with my own fear and anger.

The room filled with the loud crack of wood as the mugs full of Black Water on the shelf behind us tumbled from the now broken shelf. I clung to Ilyan on instinct, a shield erupting from me as Black Water rained down on us, the strong barrier keeping the acidic water away from Ilyan.

“Don’t tell him what to do!” I roared as my magic crackled between my fingers, the silver sparks casting long shadows through the dim room.

I stepped toward him in a fury, my hands raising just as Ilyan wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into his chest. I fought the hold as my anger sparked, my magic erupting from me as the room began to shift beneath our feet.

“No, my love,” he whispered into my ear as he tried to calm me, the warmth of his magic tunneling through me in desperation.

I tried to move past his tight hold as Wyn pushed Ryland to the ground, Sain and Thom rushing to her aide. His howls of anger lessoned, whereas mine only grew. My soul ached as I kept Ilyan away from me, the anger growing.

“I am safe, my love, you saved me,” Ilyan whispered, the gentle reminder rumbling through my fury.

He was safe.

I pressed myself into Ilyan while I kept the shield strong, his arms keeping me against him as I steadied my breathing, as I pushed the anger away.

“I’m sorry, Ilyan. I didn’t mean…I just lost track…” Ryland whimpered as he calmed. His body relaxed as he leaned against the wall with Wyn and Sain surrounding him.

“It is all right, brother,” Ilyan said as he loosened his tight grip. “I understand.”

Ryland only nodded as he looked away, his curls bobbing as he hit his head against the wall in pained desperation.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered as Ilyan moved me into the darkened corner of the room, not knowing who my words were meant for.

“Are you all right?” Ilyan whispered down to me as his fingers trailed over my skin.

“Yes,” I sighed as Ilyan’s magic continued to flood me. I knew I didn’t need his power to calm me anymore, but the warmth was so familiar, so comforting, that I wasn’t about to push him away yet.

“I am proud of you, my love,” Ilyan whispered, his hand pressing against my cheek, my heart moving to beat in time with his.

For not trying to kill anyone?

“That, too. But more for confronting your father, for showing him your strength.” His accent was thick as he looked down to me, his eyes brimming with so much emotion it was all I could do not to lean forward and hold him. So I held onto his hand tighter, the warmth of his skin intoxicating.

“You can help next time,” I said with a smile, unable to stop the playful chuckle from leaving my voice as I stepped closer to him.

“Kill someone?”

“No, battle with my father.”

“No, my love, some battles are meant for you alone, and this is one. He is your father, and as much as I would have loved to step in, to protect you from the pain I am sure you feel in your heart, this moment may come to define who you are. I want you to discover that for yourself.”

I knew he was right. I already felt my shattered relationship with my father becoming a deeper vein of who I was. Before, his abandonment had destroyed me, turned me into a scared little girl who would rather hide than become who I felt inside. Now, his distance was somehow making me stronger, making me want to prove to him that I was better than he saw me.

I wanted to show him that.

I nodded once as I moved into Ilyan, not really caring if Ryland saw. My eyes darted toward him on instinct, but instead of Ryland huddling against the door, I saw the forest miles away, my magic pulling me to the camp where Edmund’s guard stood. I saw Ovailia laughing at a letter, her smile wide as she instructed the dozens of men that surrounded her. They stood, miles away from us, their focus on a large map almost identical to the one we had in the kitchen.

Fear rippled through me until every muscle felt bound and useless. I clung to Ilyan as Ovailia looked up—almost as if she could see me—before the vision passed, my brain screaming at me what I already knew. This was not a sight, this was now.

Ovailia was preparing her battle plan with instructions from Edmund in her hand, and that could only mean one thing.

We had run out of time.

Seventeen

“Ovailia has received her instructions from Edmund.” I spoke the words louder than I had anticipated, my voice hollow and dead.

The noises that had filled the room stopped abruptly at my words; even Ryland’s mumbled sobs slowed and morphed into whimpers. A powerful surge of determination rumbled my bones as Ilyan stiffened beneath me.

I looked up to Ilyan, the corners of his mouth twitching beneath the powerful mask that he tried to hide behind. His eyes glowed with power as he looked into the darkness of the room, the depth of his eyes showing me things I knew I couldn’t possibly understand.

My heart restarted at seeing that look, my nerves supercharging at Ilyan’s sudden eagerness to fight. I only wished I felt the same.

“Where is she?” Thom growled with a loathing I had never seen from him before, the hatred stronger than what I had even seen in the cave.

The air around Thom rippled as his muscles tensed and flexed while he silently pleaded with me for an answer, something in the way he looked at me ringing true, the look hauntingly familiar.

“Where the forward guard is,” I said, careful to keep my voice level. The traumatic edge of Thom’s magic swelled in the air.

Even though Thom was looking at me, I could tell he didn’t see me. He was looking at something far away, or maybe even far behind. I waited for him to say something, for his anger to bubble out of him, but he stayed silent before he turned toward the door, ready to take on Ovailia himself.

My arms dropped from Ilyan as he rushed toward his brother’s retreating back, my feet planted in place.