Soul of Flame (Imdalind Series #4)(42)

But I couldn't.

I couldn't bring myself to stretch my fingers out and touch the surface that I had caressed so many times before. The stone that I had held when I was scared, that I had hidden under bulky clothing when I had only wanted to disappear. I didn’t know why I was so scared to touch it. I knew what the stone would feel like: cold and unmoving, smooth as glass. It wouldn't be warm as it had been before. It wouldn't beat in time with Ryland's heart. It wouldn't open up a connection between us. Not anymore. Because everything had changed.

The connection was dead, and the necklace was the last thing I had that reminded me of how things used to be.

Maybe that’s why I was scared to touch it—because I didn’t want the reminders of how things used to be. I didn’t want those memories, those fears. I didn’t want the regret. Even if I didn’t want them, though, I got them anyway. By just looking at it, my mind was filled with the distorted memories that both haunted and calmed me.

If I closed my eyes and really focused, I could see so much of my life before Ryland had tried to kiss me that first time. Before he had found my mark. I could see Ryland’s joyful face and the way we joked and played. I could see my mother’s smile, and taste her soup. How one little necklace could hold so many memories, however, I wasn’t so sure. It was hard to recall those moments, though. It was the bad ones that came easily.

Most of the time all I had seen was Ryland’s wicked glance as he hunted me, his evil sneer from inside of Cail's mind. I had been haunted by my mother’s lifeless body on the kitchen floor of our tiny apartment. The good memories had been tarnished and in many ways forgotten.

All except this necklace.

Even then, I wasn’t sure I wanted to keep the memories, not with the knowledge of what it had cost Ryland. What it had cost me, and Ilyan, and Wyn. What everyone had sacrificed, just to keep me safe.

The soft bed sagged as I shifted my weight, my shaking fingers stretching through the air as they moved toward the familiar red stone, my morbid curiosity guiding me forward. Just one touch, one moment of memories before I gave Ryland back his sanity. I almost felt like I needed that, as though I had earned it.

My fingers hovered over the stone as I hesitated, my heartbeat speeding up when Ryland’s wicked laugh filled my head. My shoulders knit together as the shadow of his laugh faded, a loud, booming knock against the door taking its place. I jumped at the sound, my heartbeat stuttering as I looked to the door that stood directly across from me.

My magic peaked in expectation of Ryland walking through, of the exchange that was about to take place. My breath felt caught in my chest as my bubble of agitation grew, but I kept my magic restrained within me just as Ilyan had instructed. I knew who was on the other side of the door, and I didn’t want to feel the icy chill that his magic gave me. I didn’t want to feel the fear and hatred, not if this plan was going to work.

I pressed my back into the headboard as the knock sounded again, the door to the bathroom swinging open as Ilyan marched out, his damp hair shorter than it had been before, hanging only just above his shoulders now, the same way it had been when I first met him. He shook out his hair as he walked up to me, causing small droplets of water to fall over the room.

“Are you sure you are ready to do this?” He asked as he pulled a dark blue t-shirt over his head, the bed sagging as he moved to sit in front of me, the cold necklace between us.

I said nothing as I reached forward and wiped a small streak of shaving cream that he had missed off the side of his face. My fingers were soft as they ran over his chin, lingering against the warmth of his skin.

Our eyes met as his thoughts washed over me. The tenderness of his desire and the strength of his concern caught in my chest.

“I’m sure,” I squeaked out, knowing it wouldn’t be enough to calm his fears.

He nodded once as the knock sounded again, this time considerably louder and more impatient.

“I will be here, mi lasko,” Ilyan sighed before leaning forward and placing his lips against my forehead, the touch soft and gentle. My magic reacted to the connection, the flow warming as my stomach tightened in fear and love, the two emotions feeling rancid against each other.

I sighed as I pushed the last of my anxiety out, knowing it would return to plague me much sooner than I wanted. Ilyan's fingers lingered against mine until he pulled away, his steps slow and confident as he moved toward the door.

I watched him until the door began to swing open, my mind suddenly panicking at what was about to happen. I wanted to look away—I knew I needed to—but I couldn’t. The frantic beating of my heart had frozen me in place. My eyes were glued to Ilyan’s back as he talked in rapid Czech to whoever was on the other side. I could feel his own nerves peak before I pushed them away, trying not to focus on his emotions and thoughts that were hardwired into my brain.

The sound of chicken scratches hit the air as whoever he was talking to replied, their voice deep and staccato in the Slavic language.

Ilyan nodded once before exiting the room, the door shutting behind him without him even looking back toward me.

My arms wound tightly around my waist, my fear dripping over my back as I watched the door. The room seemed to grow colder the longer I was left alone, my tongue feeling like lead in my mouth.

I stared at the large wooden door as if it was going to change, a ridiculous part of me scared that it would somehow disappear. Even though I knew the fear was foolish, I couldn’t seem to push it away, and the worry only grew the longer I waited.