“Ilyan.” I wasn’t sure if I was angry or worried. The way Ilyan was reacting, it was so unlike him. I could almost feel the waves of negative energy flowing off him. He spun around to face me, his eyes damp.
“He tortures them, Joclyn. He tortures them until he breaks them and then he uses them or he kills them. It’s not a monarchy he is running here. There is no next-in-command. It is only Edmund and the children he gobbles up and spits out. He did it to Zetta; he did it to Markus, Drayven, Ovailia, Sylas…”
“Wait,” I interrupted him, my heart clenching in my chest, “Ovailia?’
Ilyan breathed out deeply, his face looking like a cornered dog. He looked away from me, his hand dragging through his blonde locks again.
“Ilyan?”
“Yes. Ovailia. He tortured my sister by making her watch as he killed her mate. He forced her to track down and kill her friends. She bears a scar from her neck to her tailbone where he cut away, bit by bit, until she agreed to do it.” His voice was so bitter, so pained.
I reached out to him, desperate to comfort him, to make it go away. Then, my hand dropped; the awful truth of what he was saying hitting me hard.
“Your sister.” My voice was a whisper.
“Yes.”
“No!” I took a step back in horror.
Ilyan looked into me, that unyielding defiance I was used to, coming on strong. His eyes, so familiar, so much like Ryland’s. I had been too focused on Ryland to put the obvious puzzle pieces together. I felt ridiculously stupid.
“No!” I repeated, but my voice had lost its shock.
We just stared at each other. I had no idea what to say. All my life I had hidden. I had moaned and groaned and whined about some stupid mark. I had let it ruin my life, and all the while, my best friend, the one person who meant the most to me, was being tortured every day of his life. Furthermore, it wasn’t just him; it was the man who had saved me, it was his sister, it was seven others who had lost their lives. I could have cried; my body almost begged me to. Instead, I squared my shoulders and held it in.
“We need to save him.” My magic surged beyond the barrier as I spoke.
Ilyan looked at me for only a moment before striding away from me. I ran up beside him, his pace winding me.
“We are going to save him, Ilyan, aren’t we? He’s your… your brother.”
“We are going to try.”
“Try? I thought this was a sure thing!”
Ilyan looked at me, his pace quickening even more. I wanted to ask him to slow down, but didn’t dare.
“Edmund has increased the security around the estate. We will have to get through a lot more of his ‘henchmen’ than I had originally hoped. What I could glimpse of Ryland did not paint a pretty picture; he can barely move at times, and when he does, he twitches so badly that he can’t accomplish much. However, the party seems to still be ready to go on as planned, which can only mean that we are walking into a trap.”
I stopped in my tracks, remembering all of Ryland’s warnings to stay away from him, to leave him alone. He was still trying to protect me, and here I was, preparing to stroll into the lion’s den to save him. It was ridiculous.
Ilyan noticed I was no longer walking beside him and trotted back to get me, now dragging me by the shoulder beside him. My feet stumbled before I caught up to his pace again.
“Don’t sulk like a child; we are still going in to get him.”
“We are?” My spirits soared.
“Yes, I need you two together.”
“Why?” I knew I needed him with me, but it seemed odd that Ilyan felt the same way.
Ilyan grunted and stopped walking right at the edge of the forest. I could see the door to the motel through the break in the trees. He pulled me around to face him.
“I saw the video, Siln?. He risked everything to talk to you, to tell you how much he loved you. And I know you love him, no matter how hard you try to keep it hidden.” He smiled sadly, his hand reaching up to cup the side of my face. I moved away a bit, but his hand stayed firm against my skin. “Your bond is the strongest I have ever seen, and I am becoming worried that if he dies, you may not be far behind. And I can’t let that happen. Because I need you, too.”
“You need me? Why?”
“I just do.” Ilyan leaned forward and kissed my forehead softly. I felt dirty for letting him touch me that way and moved away from him quickly.
“Wynifred is waiting for you in your room. We leave in the morning.” He left me standing in the trees, feeling grimy and guilty. I wiped my forehead angrily before storming toward my room.
---
It was official; I hated the smell of hair dye. It burned my eyes and nose, the ammonia smell making me sick. I shook my head a bit to get the smell out of my nose, but it was no use. It was burning off my nostril hair, which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.
“Hold still or I am going to dye your face pretty colors, too.”