Soul of Flame (Imdalind Series #4)(29)

Sain.

My father had gone to Ryland first. He didn’t even look at me as I screamed and writhed against Ilyan’s hold. He only denied me yet again.

I stopped fighting, everything stiff in shock before my rage grew as Ilyan dragged me away from the rubble I had created, from the battle he would have me lose.

From the father that I would never truly have.

I continued to scream as Ilyan pulled me around the corner and away from them, his magic pressing against the ?tít—against my skin—but I wouldn’t let him in.

“Put me down!” I screamed as he plunged us through the halls, his pace quick in an attempt to put as much space as possible between Ryland and me.

“Let me do it!” The words ripped from my throat as the door closed behind us, the heavy wooden slab shutting us into our darkened room.

Lights flared through the space as Ilyan’s magic sparked them, taking away the heavy clouds that hung over the oppressive darkness from what should have been a bright, dawn sky.

Ilyan said nothing; he only moved us farther into the room until he released me, letting me fall onto my hands and knees on the hard, cold stone.

I could hear his labored breathing as he stood behind me, his strenuous huffs matching mine as his magic still pressed against me. My magic quivered in exhaustion as I fought him, as I forced his out of me, closing off the ?tít and the connection we shared.

“Let me in, my love. Your soul will not be able to calm if you don’t let me in.” Ilyan’s words were soft, but they had the opposite effect on me.

I turned toward him, my jaw tightening as Ryland’s words came right back, whether I wanted them to or not.

I was weak, and Ilyan had exposed my instability.

My magic throbbed at the betrayal, causing the heavy alabaster chandelier that hung above the bed to tremor.

“Focus on what is behind your anger,” Ilyan advised calmly, ignoring the glare I shot toward him, the feral animal that seemed to have taken control. His eyes smoldered as he once again attempted to push his magic into me while the angry barrier I had built kept him out. His face cringed at the realization, his hurt emotions swirling toward me. I pushed them away—not wanting to feel them—yet I couldn’t keep them out, not entirely.

“Nothing is behind my anger! Not right now!” I screamed at his face, my body seeming to rebel against the lie. I hated how my heart clenched up, how the wrath ebbed and the guilt attempted to take its place. I knew what was behind my anger. I saw him standing right in front of me. I just didn’t want to admit it.

I looked into his face before I cried out in confused agony, my fingers weaving through my hair and pulling out more of the braid Ilyan had worked so hard on.

“I want to kill him!” I moaned in anguish, letting the foremost desire take control.

“No, mi lasko.” Ilyan’s voice came from right above me as he hovered, attempting to protect me from myself. He wasn’t going to leave me alone anytime soon, no matter how much I wanted him to.

I wanted him to leave me. I wanted to run back to Ryland and finish the job. I wanted to yell and scream and destroy things. Everything in me felt so tight, so angry. I needed to let the flames out.

My hands moved from the now-destroyed braid to knead and grind into the unforgiving stone below me, my magic sparking from the tips of my fingers as it tried to escape the flood of pain that had trapped me.

“Let me kill him. I want to kill him,” I pleaded, my voice deep and menacing as I ground it between my teeth.

“No, my love, that is not true. You need to calm—”

“I don’t want to calm down!” I erupted at Ilyan’s serene voice, my body moving to stand in one swift movement as I turned to face him. I clamped my teeth as my fists writhed together, my neck muscles straining.

“You used me! You lied to me!”

Ilyan’s eyes widened at my outburst; his normally stoic face shattered in confusion.

“I did nothing of the sort!”

“You are supposed to protect me and you didn’t! You sold me to the wolves!”

“I cannot protect you when you leave in the middle of the night.” Ilyan’s accent amplified as the lines in his face began to deepen in displeasure. I should have been afraid—I should have backed off—but my feet stayed planted. My fists remained tied in tight little rocks.

“I tried to save Dramin! I tried to heal my brother. I failed. And he found me. He hurt me! I want to kill him. That way you can never sell me to him.”

“Sell you? Vat are you talking about?” His words were almost unrecognizable through his heightened accent, his final attempts to comfort me drifting away as his face darkened.

“You said that to him, didn’t you?” I spat, my fists compressed at my sides as I tried to keep my magic restrained, to stop myself from hurting him. “You fell in love with some fantasy of me eight hundred years ago. Then, when you met me, you didn’t like me. You don’t want me. Even after the last few days. It was all a ploy, wasn’t it? It was all a lie. You want me to die when the battle starts, just as the sight has shown.”

I wasn’t sure if I believed the words or not, but part of me knew that I did… Deep down, I did. Ryland’s cruel words had only fueled that fire, revealing the deepest regret and worry that had hidden in the dark pit of my mind. It burned through me like a red-hot branding iron, the misery that my fears had held captive rolling over me.