“What?”
“It was coming down, anyway,” he clarified, as if that made it all better.
His wind swirled around us as it left, the two, long, golden ribbons of our royalty tangling around each other, clinging together as if they belonged that way.
As if they could not stay away from each other.
They couldn’t, just as we couldn’t.
We didn’t want to.
“Are you okay?” His voice was gruff and deep as he took my hand, our magic joining together, the burn on his skin against mine a comfortable warmth that moved into me as if it were a living thing.
Passion wrapped around me with heavy arms of love and commitment that made my knees shake. I drowned in the pleasant weight of the connection, of the adoration. The emotion spread as he moved closer, his arm snaking around my wrist and pulling me against him until all I could feel was him against me, the rest of the world forgotten.
“Ilyan,” I whispered, the tension of the last few minutes melting into nothing.
“M?j nav?dy.” His voice was rough and deep, his arms pressing me into him in perfect form, stomach against hips and shoulder against chest.
I fit against him in flawless harmony as he held me, looking down at me with a blazing light in his eyes, even stronger than the love he had gifted me with. It was strong, the promise of love and forever, of commitment that ignited something deep within me. It was a steady flame that grew, pressing against our already intertwined magic and exploding into tiny pinpricks of light, dancing blessings of the earth’s energy that ignited and swelled and sparked as the strength of our magic energized them.
The connection we shared transcended everything, which was probably why I was having trouble focusing on anything other than kissing him right then.
“Ilyan,” I repeated his name on a groan that was bred in passion, a plea of further contact I knew he couldn’t ignore.
He wanted it, too.
His lip twitched in response, mercilessly too close to mine, his breath hot against the tender skin of my lips.
I watched the smile in his eyes, watched the twitch in his lips before they pressed against mine, before his magic swelled within me and the lights around us grew. Colors popped in a kaleidoscope of light.
Ilyan. I tried to get his attention, tried to pull away, but the effort was half-hearted, just as the silent plea inside his mind was.
“I missed you,” he whispered against my skin as he kissed my neck, his body pulling away from mine as his eyes caught fire. His hand was warm as it held me against him. “I was worried.”
“I can’t blame you for that,” I gasped, the lack of oxygen making it hard to think, or talk, for that matter. “I worry about myself sometimes.”
His smile faded into a low frown as he looked at me, his hand soft as the tips of his fingers traced over my face. “What happened?”
He asked the question despite knowing, despite the fact that he could pull the information right out of my head. I straightened, grateful for his comforting contact.
“I saw the wall fall,” I whispered.
“In sight?”
“I couldn’t tell that at the time.”
His body tensed against mine, his arms pressing me into him in perfect form, as the deep buzzing of his thoughts moved against me.
“So they are getting worse?”
I didn’t want to justify his question with an answer. Besides, seeing the wall fall and my subsequent breakdown was the least of our problems right then.
And he knew it.
What about the girl? I didn’t want to say it out loud. I could still see her face in my mind. I could still see the white and red of her skin. I could still see her eyes, so dark and sad they took my breath away.
“Show me again.” His voice was much harder than I had expected it to be, the heavy tension ripping through me, and I fought the need to step away.
I probably would have if his arms hadn’t formed a cage around me.
Exhaling heavily, I placed his hand against my mark, gasping as the strength of his magic rippled through me, my knees shaking with the weight of his love.
I wanted to bask in the emotion, but I couldn’t, because I knew what was coming. I knew what I was about to see.
And I knew there was no way around it.
Moments after his hand made contact with my mark, the recall flared, bright and warm inside of me like a flame. The same scene played before us: the cloaked figure running, my vision following.
Turning a corner to face Edmund and the child.
The girl had barely started to turn when Ilyan’s hand pulled away from me, the recall severing along with the connection. His movements were rough as he took a step away, his magic leaving as the contact did. His eyes were darker than I had seen them.
I had thought the sight of the girl was frightening, but somehow, Ilyan’s reaction to her was even more so.
“Ilyan?”