If only Ilyan hadn’t barreled into my side, his arms wrapping around me as he knocked me to the ground. Ilyan’s warm magic surrounded me in a rush, the flow only a futile attempt to calm me. I wouldn’t let it. I just screamed louder, letting my magic surge as I blocked him, attempting to finish what I had started.
“Stop, Joclyn!” A rough surge of Ilyan’s magic encapsulated around us as he yelled, breaking my connection to Ryland. The wind that had been a torrent in the room left, a loud slap of flesh against stone signaling Ryland’s fall to the ground.
I fought against Ilyan’s hold, desperate to get back to Ryland, to wrap my hands around his neck, to take his life another way. Ilyan only locked his hands tighter around me, keeping me in place.
“Let me go,” I yelled again, my movements rough and volatile in my attempt to escape.
“No! Joclyn!” Ilyan yelled, but I couldn’t hear him through my screams.
His hands held strong, his magic surging through me as he tried to calm me and my magic, but I wouldn’t let him. I continued to thrash beside him until he moved over me, his hands on my forearms and his legs pinning mine down. He should have crushed me, but his hold was gentle with only enough pressure to keep me in place. He flared his magic harder against my skin as he tried to calm me, my magic still restricting him even though my heart—my very soul—begged me to accept him.
All I felt was anger and hatred and heartache, and before I knew it, I was fighting him again, his face crestfallen as I screamed at him in agony. I didn’t want to let Ilyan in; I didn’t want him to take away the rage that filled me. I liked the way the anger felt, the way it bubbled and grew and made me feel something besides jitters. I liked the way it made me feel alive.
I only wanted one thing, the thing that Ilyan had taken away from me.
“I want to kill him!” I growled through gritted teeth, my hands clenching and unclenching as I fought the need to attack Ilyan, something I knew would end in my defeat.
“No, Joclyn, you don’t.” His voice was calm as his thumbs ran over my forearms, something that should have calmed me only aggravating me more.
“I do!” I said between the tears, the dreaded things joining in my battle as my emotions swelled. “I don’t want him to hurt me anymore! He deserves to die!”
“No, my love, no,” Ilyan whispered while he lifted me off the ground, his grip strong as he began to pull me away.
I let my heels grind into the rubble-strewn floor as I tried to fight him, but it was no use; he only kept moving.
My body felt heavy in exhaustion, my overused emotions making my magic slow and sluggish. I couldn’t fight my way out of Ilyan’s hold if I tried.
I yelled out in outrage one last time before I caught sight of Ryland, folded over as he tried to regain breath, Sain wrapping his arms around him in comfort.
Sain.
My father had gone to Ryland first. He didn’t even look at me as I screamed and writhed against Ilyan’s hold. He only denied me yet again.
I stopped fighting, everything stiff in shock before my rage grew as Ilyan dragged me away from the rubble I had created, from the battle he would have me lose.
From the father that I would never truly have.
I continued to scream as Ilyan pulled me around the corner and away from them, his magic pressing against the ?tít—against my skin—but I wouldn’t let him in.
“Put me down!” I screamed as he plunged us through the halls, his pace quick in an attempt to put as much space as possible between Ryland and me.
“Let me do it!” The words ripped from my throat as the door closed behind us, the heavy wooden slab shutting us into our darkened room.
Lights flared through the space as Ilyan’s magic sparked them, taking away the heavy clouds that hung over the oppressive darkness from what should have been a bright, dawn sky.
Ilyan said nothing; he only moved us farther into the room until he released me, letting me fall onto my hands and knees on the hard, cold stone.
I could hear his labored breathing as he stood behind me, his strenuous huffs matching mine as his magic still pressed against me. My magic quivered in exhaustion as I fought him, as I forced his out of me, closing off the ?tít and the connection we shared.
“Let me in, my love. Your soul will not be able to calm if you don’t let me in.” Ilyan’s words were soft, but they had the opposite effect on me.
I turned toward him, my jaw tightening as Ryland’s words came right back, whether I wanted them to or not.
I was weak, and Ilyan had exposed my instability.
My magic throbbed at the betrayal, causing the heavy alabaster chandelier that hung above the bed to tremor.