Soul of Flame (Imdalind Series #4)

“I am,” I sighed, knowing he needed more of an explanation than that. “I may not love him the way I did, but that does not mean that I don’t care. Right now, he scares me, and I don't want to be around him. But I can't let him keep living with the pain of being broken in pieces, of not being able to control his emotions. I may not be able to give him back the piece of his soul that Edmund has stolen from him, but I can return this, and if it helps, then it is enough.”


Ilyan said nothing as he held me, the awe I had felt growing before his head bowed down and he pressed his lips against the mark on my neck. I sighed at the contact, my heartbeat increasing as the touch supercharged the connection that lived between us.

“You amaze me, my Joclyn,” he whispered into my skin as his lips pressed against my neck again before he turned me in his arms, the deep pit of his eyes swallowing me up again. “If this is what you wish, then I will see it happen.”

“It is,” I replied, my voice no more than a whisper.

Ilyan nodded once in understanding before pressing his lips against my forehead, the heat from the contact shooting through me. It was more than the heat that I felt, however. It was the steady stream of thoughts from Ilyan, his awe, his amazement.

For one brief moment, everything was right. Everything felt perfect. I knew it wouldn’t last. How could it? For right in that moment, though, I would hold myself to it, and hold it dear.

Forever.





Eleven



I sat on the edge of the now-repaired bed. My legs were crossed under me as I looked at the necklace that sat in front of me, my back stiff as I leaned away from where the silver chain snaked through the folds of the thick feather comforter. The glinting red of the stone stared at me in the dim light of dusk. The color of it—the way it glinted in the light—was almost taunting, begging me to touch it.

But I couldn't.

I couldn't bring myself to stretch my fingers out and touch the surface that I had caressed so many times before. The stone that I had held when I was scared, that I had hidden under bulky clothing when I had only wanted to disappear. I didn’t know why I was so scared to touch it. I knew what the stone would feel like: cold and unmoving, smooth as glass. It wouldn't be warm as it had been before. It wouldn't beat in time with Ryland's heart. It wouldn't open up a connection between us. Not anymore. Because everything had changed.

The connection was dead, and the necklace was the last thing I had that reminded me of how things used to be.

Maybe that’s why I was scared to touch it—because I didn’t want the reminders of how things used to be. I didn’t want those memories, those fears. I didn’t want the regret. Even if I didn’t want them, though, I got them anyway. By just looking at it, my mind was filled with the distorted memories that both haunted and calmed me.

If I closed my eyes and really focused, I could see so much of my life before Ryland had tried to kiss me that first time. Before he had found my mark. I could see Ryland’s joyful face and the way we joked and played. I could see my mother’s smile, and taste her soup. How one little necklace could hold so many memories, however, I wasn’t so sure. It was hard to recall those moments, though. It was the bad ones that came easily.

Most of the time all I had seen was Ryland’s wicked glance as he hunted me, his evil sneer from inside of Cail's mind. I had been haunted by my mother’s lifeless body on the kitchen floor of our tiny apartment. The good memories had been tarnished and in many ways forgotten.

All except this necklace.

Even then, I wasn’t sure I wanted to keep the memories, not with the knowledge of what it had cost Ryland. What it had cost me, and Ilyan, and Wyn. What everyone had sacrificed, just to keep me safe.

The soft bed sagged as I shifted my weight, my shaking fingers stretching through the air as they moved toward the familiar red stone, my morbid curiosity guiding me forward. Just one touch, one moment of memories before I gave Ryland back his sanity. I almost felt like I needed that, as though I had earned it.

My fingers hovered over the stone as I hesitated, my heartbeat speeding up when Ryland’s wicked laugh filled my head. My shoulders knit together as the shadow of his laugh faded, a loud, booming knock against the door taking its place. I jumped at the sound, my heartbeat stuttering as I looked to the door that stood directly across from me.

My magic peaked in expectation of Ryland walking through, of the exchange that was about to take place. My breath felt caught in my chest as my bubble of agitation grew, but I kept my magic restrained within me just as Ilyan had instructed. I knew who was on the other side of the door, and I didn’t want to feel the icy chill that his magic gave me. I didn’t want to feel the fear and hatred, not if this plan was going to work.

I pressed my back into the headboard as the knock sounded again, the door to the bathroom swinging open as Ilyan marched out, his damp hair shorter than it had been before, hanging only just above his shoulders now, the same way it had been when I first met him. He shook out his hair as he walked up to me, causing small droplets of water to fall over the room.