Dawn of Ash (Imdalind, #6)(13)

I watched him, my heart pounding, as he ran closer, his face coming into focus, his eyes madly searching for me, searching for what was coming.

Can you see me? I asked, panicked. I could see through his shield—I had always been able to—but Ilyan couldn’t. That was one ability Ilyan didn’t have a prayer in.

No, he responded, and my heart dropped. I can feel you.



Just as he was about to collide with me, his arms opened wide, wrapping around me in an iron cage of comfort and security. I had barely felt him against me before he changed direction, his magic carrying us up like a shot, soaring high into the air, above the buildings, above the Vil?s who continued forward blindly, for the moment, anyway.

“Ilyan,” I whispered into the hollow of his neck, the tension building as I watched the creatures stop, their bodies jittering around in a manic need to find the trail again.

“It’s all right, my love,” he growled in deep Czech, the sound lighting me on fire, even through the panic. “Just wait.”

I wrapped my arms around him as we hovered high in the blanketed sky, the planes from this morning still patrolling the perimeter in a slow circle like vultures waiting for the flesh to rot.

Ilyan’s arms were a sweet pressure against my spine as his lips pressed against the crown of my head, a calm wave washing through me. I didn’t understand how he could be so calm with those monsters seconds away from finding us, but he laughed right as a building several blocks away from where the Vil?s had congregated collapsed.

The sound was louder than the small balcony mishap, as loud as the bombs that banged against the sky every day. It echoed around us, trapped inside the dome as it called the Vil?s to it.

As one, they turned, flying toward it in a mad attempt to find a new victim, all thoughts of us forgotten.

“What did you do?” I asked as I turned toward him, my head craning to see him.

His hand left my back to gently push the wild strands of my hair out of my face, a mischievous smile spreading wide at the question, his magic gently setting us down on the roof of one of the many buildings of the city.

“Don’t worry; it’s not the first building I’ve torn down today.” His voice was gruff as his eyes danced.

“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.”