Soul of Flame (Imdalind Series #4)(41)
Yes. I kept my eyes averted as I spoke into his mind, trying to fight the blush that heated my face and neck at having reacted in such a way.
“That is exactly why I cannot replace the ?tít. As much as I wish to protect you, as much as I wish to do everything for you, you know as well as I do that is not always a possibility. You must master your emotions on your own—master your power—so that things like this do not happen again.”
“But what if Edmund comes tomorrow? I am not ready.”
“You will be, my love. I will help you to be in any way that I can.”
I nodded once in understanding before I moved into him, my arms wrapping around his wide torso while my head turned just enough that I could press my lips against his shirt. I am sorry, Ilyan. I should have never said those things.
“It is all right, my love. I forgive you. I can feel your regret in my soul. I taste your tears on my lips. We all say things that we do not mean, even to the ones we love, but it is because we love them that we can forgive them.”
“I never want to lose you, Ilyan,” I said, the hand that Ilyan still held against my neck pulling me back so he could look at me again.
I could see a million words in his eyes, hear a million things that he wanted to say in his thoughts. Nothing was solid, though, and so many of the words were in Czech that I wouldn't have been able to understand them even if I tried. So I stayed still, savoring every part of him, while the warmth of his hand seeped into my neck, his other keeping me tightly up against him.
“We are not made to fight, my love,” he said, his voice soft and rumbling. “Our souls have been forever bound, both of us carrying each other’s precious cargo. You take away a piece of your soul and you will only feel hatred and fear; your emotions can never be your own.”
“Like Ryland?” I asked, my tongue tripping over the words as my heart constricted.
“Yes,” he answered, his tone making it clear he had felt the brief pain that had moved through me.
“I don't want to feel that way ever again, Ilyan. Like I was broken. Like I would never be myself again. I had enough of that in Cail’s mind, and I never want to feel it again.”
“I never want you to feel it again.”
“Ryland shouldn't feel that way, either,” I said, my eyes pulling away as I ground my teeth against my bottom lip. “I don't know if I believe you that it wasn't Ryland in Cail’s mind, but even if it was, he shouldn't have to feel broken.”
The feathers swirled around my feet as I walked away from Ilyan toward the middle of the floor where the giant stone of the necklace stared up at me from within the feathers. I just stared at it as Ilyan came up behind me, his arm wrapping around my stomach as he pulled me against him. I said nothing to him, even though I could feel his confusion, my eyes trained on the sliver of red amongst the white.
I couldn't believe I was going to do this. Part of me begged myself not to—to let Ryland suffer—yet that part wasn't me; I could never be that cruel. I had felt the hopelessness at being apart from something that was integral to me. If Ilyan was right, if Ryland’s heart was enclosed in this stone, then I knew that he was hurting. In his mind, the only way to make it better was to give him his heart back. To him, that was me. However, it wasn't, not anymore.
His heart was here, on the floor, just waiting to go home.
“I want to give him back his heart,” I said softly, unable to look away from the snaking chain of the necklace that had meant so much to me just weeks before.
Ilyan’s awe washed over me as he relaxed, his arms wrapping tightly around me from behind as he leaned forward to rest his chin against my shoulder.
“Are you sure?” his voice was heavy, his worry almost catching me off guard.
“I am,” I sighed, knowing he needed more of an explanation than that. “I may not love him the way I did, but that does not mean that I don’t care. Right now, he scares me, and I don't want to be around him. But I can't let him keep living with the pain of being broken in pieces, of not being able to control his emotions. I may not be able to give him back the piece of his soul that Edmund has stolen from him, but I can return this, and if it helps, then it is enough.”
Ilyan said nothing as he held me, the awe I had felt growing before his head bowed down and he pressed his lips against the mark on my neck. I sighed at the contact, my heartbeat increasing as the touch supercharged the connection that lived between us.
“You amaze me, my Joclyn,” he whispered into my skin as his lips pressed against my neck again before he turned me in his arms, the deep pit of his eyes swallowing me up again. “If this is what you wish, then I will see it happen.”
“It is,” I replied, my voice no more than a whisper.
Ilyan nodded once in understanding before pressing his lips against my forehead, the heat from the contact shooting through me. It was more than the heat that I felt, however. It was the steady stream of thoughts from Ilyan, his awe, his amazement.
For one brief moment, everything was right. Everything felt perfect. I knew it wouldn’t last. How could it? For right in that moment, though, I would hold myself to it, and hold it dear.
Forever.
Eleven
I sat on the edge of the now-repaired bed. My legs were crossed under me as I looked at the necklace that sat in front of me, my back stiff as I leaned away from where the silver chain snaked through the folds of the thick feather comforter. The glinting red of the stone stared at me in the dim light of dusk. The color of it—the way it glinted in the light—was almost taunting, begging me to touch it.