Soul of Flame (Imdalind Series #4)(21)

“One heart for every beat of mine that you own. Every single one,” he whispered as he pulled me close, his soft lips brushing against mine gently as he held me against him. I gasped, my breath trapped in my chest as I waited for more to come. His mouth moved over my cheek to my jawbone before turning to my lips, the touch as soft as a feather.

My heart pulsed faster in expectation, my hands moving to cling to his elbows in a frantic need to have him closer. I could feel his heart beat against me, the heavy bass drum of it thumping against my chest as he held me, his skin flush with my body.

He didn’t move any closer. He stayed still, his lips a soft whisper against mine.

“Kiss me,” I begged in a soft, breathless voice.

Ilyan’s breath drifted over my skin as he laughed, his fingers caressing my mark as a small surge wound its way over my spine before he pulled me into him. His lips pressed into mine as his hand wrapped around my waist, holding me against him.

My hands trailed from his elbows to his back, the feeling of his bare skin shocking. I clung to him as he kissed me, as I kissed him. My chest heaved as he pulled away, his hands still tight against my clothing, keeping me against him with his cheek pressed to mine.

I breathed deeply while the sky lit up around us, the rumble of thunder loud as it rolled through the air, the magic of the earth a raw and powerful jolt that weaved its way within me.

“Do you feel that?” Ilyan asked, his voice a whisper in my ear. “The power from the earth?”

“Yes.”

“Then I am no longer alone,” Ilyan said, his voice deep and relaxed.

The thoughts of all the time he had been ostracized because of his power filled me—the feeling when he killed his friend, as well as when he had been too scared to help those around him. The thoughts took away my breath and I clung to him, my fingers pressing into the skin of his back as I held him.

“You never were,” I breathed against his skin, my fingers running over his hairline before I kissed him.

Never.





Six



The rain had stopped falling sometime before dawn, the long streaks of water vanishing into the air as a chilled breeze took their place. I had watched for hours as the lightning struck, the abbey rumbling with every thunder clap as the storm came closer. The wind had come after the rain left, the powerful gusts driving against the barrier that Ilyan had placed over the open window frames. I almost wished it would break through.

I wanted the wind and the rain to splash against my face and to feel the magic they carried move into me. I wanted to stand still in the midst of the storm as it raged around me. I would have removed the barrier, but I didn’t want to wake Ilyan. He slept so soundly as he held me against him, his breathing calm and shallow as he dreamed, his arm a comforting weight around my waist.

I had tried to sleep, to take advantage of the calm I felt, but it wasn’t taking. So I had lain still, breathing into Ilyan’s chest while our song flowed from his lips until he had drifted away, his words fading into nothing.

I wished I could sleep, but I wasn’t tired. The Drak blood ran through me stronger than it had before, the promise that Dramin had given me of less sleep and no food ringing clear. I guess the no sleep part had finally kicked in.

I smiled at the memory of Dramin giving me the mug on that very first day, his kind eyes and the sound of his laugh. My smile faded as quickly as it had come, the image of my jovial “uncle” replaced with one of my dying brother. Just the thought of Dramin brought a bad taste to my mouth. My brother, dying in the other room with nothing I could do to save him.

No, that was wrong.

Sain wouldn’t let me save him.

I gritted my teeth at the thought, my blood boiling at my father’s stubborn and ancient mindset. I still didn’t understand why they wouldn’t let me save him, why they were so adamant that they follow the sight.

No matter how many snow-filled graves I saw in my sights, I couldn’t let someone die. My mother hadn’t raised me that way. I should be able to help someone who needs me.

What was to say that the future wouldn’t come about another way?

I wish my father had told me something, anything, about why it was so important to follow the sights. More reason than a culture I didn’t understand, more than the nameless sights of the zlomeny, or unknown factors with no real consequence. I needed a reason. The fact that he hadn’t given me one almost worried me more.

I knew I should be as protective of the sights as my father was. I had sensed their power and the promise of truth they held as the visions had unfolded before me. I knew that what I had seen would come to pass; I knew it because the magic told me so.

I just wished that were enough for me.

I could feel Dramin across the abbey, alone in his room where he lay with his magic dead inside of him. My magic prickled through me as I felt him, and a thought I almost didn’t want to let in came over me. Everyone was sleeping—everyone except Sain, who stood guard in the bell tower.

I could save my brother.

I didn’t care what the repercussions were; right then, it didn’t matter. It was my choice, and I wouldn’t let him die. With my breath trapped in my chest, I turned my head toward Ilyan, his body relaxed in sleep. If one thing was certain when it came to Ilyan, he didn’t wake up easily, and when he did eventually awaken, it always took him a minute to understand what was going on. I could use that to my benefit.