“You can have him,” Tyler spat, his free hand punching me aggressively across the face.
I fell to the ground just as Edmund’s restraints flew off me in a torrent. I screamed out against the pain, clutching my head in an attempt to keep the overwhelming power of my magic restrained under my skin. The pain in my cheek, the rumbling headache from the impact with Tyler’s fist, were all but forgotten as I screamed out, my voice ricocheting off the smooth floor.
It was too much to focus on, restraining the magic and managing the pain. My chest was heaving with the power of my magic, my fingers flexing against my head. I focused on the floor as I yelled out deafeningly, the power moving deeper into me.
“Breathe deeply and push it into your stomach.” Ryland’s voice was like honey in my ear as he lifted me off the floor to hold me against him, his hands resting on my lower back as he moved me to dance along with him.
I followed his directions, not willing to look up at him quite yet, just in case I lost control again. I pressed my face into his neck, almost losing my focus at the intensity of the memories, the joy that his scent caused me. I refocused and pushed it all back into my stomach, focusing on the space behind my belly button.
“Thanks,” I mumbled as the energy was contained. I looked up at him, focusing with all my might on the surplus power I now kept locked in place.
“I told you not to come.” He looked around nervously, and I knew Ilyan was right. We had walked right into a trap.
I followed Ryland’s line of sight, my stomach clenching as ten Trpaslíks came barreling into the large room. They stopped momentarily before the man in the lead directed them out like a fan. We were trapped. Ryland moved us into the crowd, lifting me off the ground to plunge us into the gyrating mass quickly.
“Ilyan said you wouldn’t leave if it was only him.”
“I wouldn’t. But I can’t leave because you are here, either,” Ryland said.
“I can’t just let Edmund take you away from me,” I stated emphatically.
“Stubborn to the end.” He looked down at me, his bright blue eyes sending a shock through my system. He reached over and placed his hand softly against my face, covering my aching jaw where Tyler had just punched me. I leaned into his touch, needing him to be close to me.
“Are you okay?” he asked softly, his hand growing warm as his magic filled me.
I could only nod as my magic lurched again; I jerked with the energy.
“Focus, Jos,” Ryland whispered, bringing me to rest right against him. “Jeez, how long have you been awake?”
“A week,” I whispered. It was becoming harder to keep the energy restrained.
“Ilyan’s an idiot.” He pulled me against him, his cheek against mine. My heart sputtered and I heard Ryland laugh deeply. I suddenly felt very uncomfortable, not being able to see him properly.
“I need to see your eyes.” I pulled away from him, trying to keep my body moving in the odd dance.
“You don’t have to worry about that, Jos; you’ve already walked right into his trap. You saw all the men that swarmed in here, and there are only about ten times more surrounding us.” He smiled, trying to break the fear that gripped me, but it only grew.
“Besides,” he mused, “he’s already so far in that it’s a miracle I can remember you at all.” He smiled, but it was so sad, so heartbroken.
“You need to come with me,” I begged. “We need to get out of here right now.” I pleaded my case to him, but he said nothing. He only smiled sadly at me and pulled my body to press against his.
I should have fought him, begged him further, but my heart was lost in his touch, his smell. I leaned into him, my soul swelling with joy. He pressed his cheek against mine as we moved. He held me so tightly that it felt as if we simply could not get close enough. I welcomed the contact; it felt so right. I felt so whole in that moment; my magic so close to its other half, my heart beating right next to his. We slow danced among the manically dancing pairs, lost in our own little world.
“I’d sacrifice anything,” he sang softly in my ear, the Frank Sinatra song blending with the loud club music. His voice broke; I could tell he was crying. “Come what might…” I pulled my head away to look at him. The glistening tears streaked down his cheeks. “I will not let anything take away what’s standing right in front of me.”
I reached up, my fingertips softly wiping away the wet tears from his face. As my fingers traced the lines of his cheek, the bruises and cuts swam into view. I gasped as I saw him up close; his face, his agony, making everything that much more real. My hand flew to my mouth, my own tears falling down my cheeks.
“Don’t cry,” he whispered. “Please, don’t cry.”