I do not love him, not like I once did. My face burned with painful tears, Ilyan’s warm hands against my cheeks catching them as they fell. I close my eyes and I see blood. I think his name and I feel pain. I can’t make that go away. I can’t make my fear, my need to attack him, leave. I cannot love someone, I cannot be with someone I only feel hatred for. Who I am scared of.
“Those are not your true emotions, Joclyn. They are what my father has infected you with. They will fade with time,” Ilyan whispered, his pain at seeing me so scared, so sad, tumbling through me. I ignored it, clinging to the last bits of sanity I had left as I tried to get the words out, to help him understand.
They are my emotions now, Ilyan. Cail made sure of that. I stared into him, my jaw clenched as I fought the tirade that bubbled to the surface. I stared at him, pleading with him to understand me while my nerves jumped. I could feel his thoughts as they swirled through him: his regret, anger, love… and finally, understanding.
He pulled me into him, his nose rubbing against my jawbone as he moved to whisper in my ear. The soft touch sent a jolt up my spine. “I’m sorry, Joclyn. I am sorry I didn’t get there in time.” I could only nod my head in acceptance. He ran his hands over my arms as he kept me enclosed on his lap, his palms trailing over my skin. “You will become bigger than it, my love. I know you will, and then anything you desire will be yours.”
I listened to Ilyan’s words, the truth of what he said sinking in. His choice to wait wasn’t about the relationship I had with Ryland or any feelings I may still have for him. This was about me and helping me move past what had been done to me before I made the choice to move forward. Ilyan would never take away my choice, not in the way that Ryland had. I fought the tremor as his name came to mind, my arms twitching whether or not I wanted them to.
What if that never comes? I sent the words into Ilyan’s mind as I exhaled shakily, my fear still fighting its way past the calming current that Ilyan had wound through me.
“It will come. It may take time, but it will come. I will be here to help you find yourself again.” He whispered the words into the crisp night air around us, the promise sounding more like a guarantee.
I knew it was.
“Ilyan,” I breathed out, my voice pleading as I whispered into the night. I clenched my fingers around his shirt as I pressed myself against him.
“It is not my time, my love,” he whispered as he caught my meaning, the pain at the words that I wasn’t sure he agreed with taking his voice away.
It is your time, Ilyan, I spoke into his mind as I pressed my lips against his neck, keeping my skin against his as his breathing caught. It always was. It always will be. I was just too dumb to see it.
His arms tightened around me as he fought against his resolve. Our hearts beat in unison as the chilled night breeze pulled at my hair. The strong wave of his affection flowed into me so quickly that it caught me off guard and I gasped shakily as his emotion grew, triggering my own.
“I have waited eight hundred years to hear you say such things. I thought I had understood the love I felt for you before, but until now, I didn’t fully know how amazing it was. I didn’t know how unworthy I would feel of it. I am lost to you,” Ilyan whispered, his voice breaking as tears threatened.
My breath caught in my chest. My soul was overcome by the strength of the love that my body absorbed from him. I just wished it was enough, enough for him to bond himself to me, to know that I felt it was right. It wasn’t though; not yet.
I wanted to tell Ilyan how being near him made me feel. I wanted him to know how clear my mind was. I just couldn’t find the words. I couldn’t form the thought to push it into his mind. My soul teetered on the edge of nothing as I waited for the words to come, as I tried to put voice to them.
“Say something,” he pleaded, his thumb gently caressing my cheek.
I love you, Ilyan, I whispered into his mind as I leaned against him, his arms coming up to wrap around me and keep me close.
“Say it aloud,” he whispered, his breath moving through my hair, the warmth sending a shiver down my spine.
“I love you, Ilyan,” I said, my voice strong and steady.
I had never felt so much certainty behind my words, so much honesty. I did more than just speak the words. I felt them.
I felt them down to the very tips of my toes. I felt them course through me. In many ways, the truth of them scared me, yet in others, they made me comfortable because they made me aware of who I was and what I was meant to do. They made me feel normal and loved.
They were love.
“I have waited my entire life to hold you in my arms in this way, to feel your lips against mine.” The whisper of his voice faltered as he moved away to look into me. “And now that you are here… I will hold you every night,” he vowed as he placed his lips against my forehead, his touch soft and hesitant, “and I will protect you every day,” his mouth ran over my skin, down the bridge of my nose, “in hopes that the day will come that I can bond myself to you and call you mine.”
His voice was so soft, it almost wasn’t there. I wasn’t even certain I had heard it before he kissed me again.
Two