Soul of Flame (Imdalind Series #4)(20)

“After that one, he taught me every other braid in succession. The braids for council, for war, for new life, for mothers, for loss. When I was old enough, my mother taught me the sacred marriage braid; the twelve-strand, double-layered braid that is performed by a woman’s mate during the ceremony for the Z?lství. That braid is only known by the king and is taught to the man the night before the ceremony is to take place. My mother spent years spying on my father, breaking tradition in order to learn it and pass it on to me, terrified it would be lost forever if she didn’t. I believe my mother knew of the darkness in my father’s heart before anyone else.”

I placed my hand on Ilyan’s knee as I pushed away my nerves over the braid he spoke about, my magic surging alongside his deep sadness at the memory of his mother teaching it to him.

I am glad she taught you, I said, relieved when his sadness dissipated. I squeezed his knee, leaving my hand there against the soft cotton of his pants.

“So am I,” he whispered. My heart beat heavily at the way his soft voice flowed over my skin. “It is the most complicated of all the braids that our kind uses, and the one I have done the most. I have sat for thousands of sleepless nights as I taught my friends, my subjects, how to braid the hair of their mates for the one ceremony that would forever change their lives.”

His fingers brushed against my neck as he continued to work, each touch of his skin against mine sending electric pulses of magic into me. I smiled at the sensation and lowered my head a bit, giving him easier access to the long lengths that fell down my back.

“It was why I cut my hair the first time,” he said, the tone of his voice changing to that deep pull that brought my attention back to his story. “I was the first one to do so, hundreds of years before it became the fashion of the mortals, and I cannot tell you how many elders scorned me for my choice, but to me, I had no other. I would grow my hair out for council or for battle. For the most part, I kept it short, however, unwilling to place the braids that in many ways seemed almost a painful mockery to me. Then I received the sight, which told me of your existence, and I grew my hair out naturally and wore my hair longer more often, knowing someday I would finally get the chance to braid your hair, that you would braid mine…”

My chest constricted as what he said seeped into me, the warmth of his fingers as they moved along my neck sparking my concerns. I wasn’t sure if I was excited or terrified. It wasn’t like a bonding wasn’t something we had talked about—okay, had almost done. It was how he spoke about it in that moment that was different.

“Ilyan?” I said, my voice barely above a whisper; my heart seemed to have stopped beating. Ilyan’s words burned into me, blending with his thoughts in a cacophony of emotions and desires.

I don’t know why I had never understood it before. Beyond waiting for me, beyond keeping me safe, Ilyan had wanted nothing more than to have that which he had seen others have. What the sight had told that he could only have with me. I knew—I could feel it in the way he pushed away the flare of his emotions—that he would never fully admit that. Even to himself.

Ilyan lightly pulled on my hair as he secured the band. His weight shifted as he turned to face me, his legs stretched out on either side of me.

“I do not know what this connection of our souls means, mi lasko,” he whispered as he finally answered my question, his hands enclosing around mine. “It affects us in ways I never thought possible, and while I am not sure how that may affect our future, I can tell you this: it changes nothing between us.”

They were words that hours ago I would have loved to hear, and I did. For some reason, though, my stomach had turned into butterflies and my heart had taken on a stutter all its own.

So you are still my kick-butt trainer with bad taste in clothes? I spoke into his mind, trying desperately to ease my nerves, but it didn’t work. Even my subconscious voice trembled.

“Something like that,” Ilyan said with a smile, his hand squeezing mine before reaching up and running his finger over my hairline. I smiled at the touch, my muscles tightening all on their own as a snake of pleasure ran through me.

“So… what braid is this?” I asked as I lifted my hand behind my head, the tips of my fingers trembling against the perfect silken strands that Ilyan had just woven.

My nerves jumpstarted in apprehension as Ilyan captured my hand, his own unease surprising me. I had never expected Ilyan to be so nervous, yet I could hear the frantic pulse of his heart, the trembling of his emotions.

“The braid of true love,” he whispered as he released my hand, his eyes unwavering from mine. “It is normally braided by the man after the woman consents to be his mate. The sign that she is taken. The woman receives this braid, while a man will let his hair hang free for the first time in his life, showing he is waiting for her to braid it after the bond is complete.” His eyes never even deviated a millimeter from mine as he spoke. I was sure I looked like I had been hit by a truck.

Ilyan? I asked, my nerves melding into a form of eager panic that I wasn’t sure made sense. Heck. Nothing made sense. Was Ilyan asking me to bond myself to him? Now?

“Hmmm,” Ilyan sighed as his hand moved to press against my mark, his touch soft as the jolt wound through me, his fingers continuing to run over the raised skin.

“I hold by my original choice, Joclyn. You are not ready to make a decision like that yet. I chose this braid because of how our bond has formed between us, how our hearts beat in time, how you speak to me, and how you can feel the thoughts in my heart. You see, in every transition of the hair, small hearts form, making a trail over your head and down your back…” Ilyan led my hand over the braid as he spoke, his fingers moving mine over each of the hearts that he had formed into my hair.