Soul of Flame (Imdalind Series #4)(49)

I navigated my way through the darkness that felt heavy and forbidding, opening the door to Wyn to find the hallway lit with shadows of black and light from the orb of orange light that hovered above her hands. She was dressed in dark washed jeans and a black leather jacket that looked vaguely familiar, the dark colors making her blend into the pitch of the hallway.

“Took you long enough,” she said as I opened the door, her voice strained. I had been so happy to hear her voice, but that joy slipped into the darkness as I caught sight of the deep worry that lined her face, my own anxieties trying to flare again.

“Is Ilyan awake?” she asked, the panicked edge growing more persistent.

“No.” I shook my head. “Is everything okay?”

I asked the question, even though I could see the answer in her eyes.

Wyn sighed and looked past me into the darkened room, her brows knit together as she tried to decide what to do. I just stood still as I waited, not knowing if I should let her in or not. I wasn't exactly sure of the protocol in a situation like this. I couldn’t exactly say, ‘Please come in and wake up your shirtless king. I'm sure he won't mind,’ and be met with happy smiles. Ilyan didn’t wake up easily. Besides, I was sure that he would mind a lot more than Wyn would assume. So I stayed still, my shoulders tense as I blocked her path, waiting for her to explain why she was here.

“I'm not sure yet. I was on guard and… something has changed. I want Ilyan’s opinion,” she whispered as her eyes darted back to me, even though it was obvious I wasn’t the one she wanted to be talking to.

It didn’t matter. I knew what she was talking about because I had felt it. I had felt the swell of anger when I had woken up. I could still feel it now, prickling through the air, no matter how much I tried to ignore it.

“Is it about the anger in the camps?” I asked.

“You feel it, too?” she asked, the awe in her eyes taking me off guard. I looked at her for a minute before nodding once, not sure how else to respond to her.

“I don’t know what it is,” Wyn said, the deep alarm in her voice growing. “We haven’t had a bigger swell of them from what I can tell, but something is different.”

Wyn shuffled her feet as she spoke, making it clear that there was something she wasn’t telling me. Something was wrong, something must be coming. If something was coming… I swallowed heavily, pushing the thought from my mind. Just knowing that something was wrong felt like a contagion against my heart. We needed Ilyan.

“You better come in,” I said before stepping aside and closing the door behind her. I didn’t know if Ilyan would approve of this decision, but I had a feeling this was something he needed to know right away.

The light Wyn held in her hands suddenly flew away from her and nestled in the large wooden rafters of the ceiling only to cast weird fingers of light over the room. It flickered in elongated shapes that brought some of the horrors of my dream back. I looked toward the window, almost expecting to see Edmund there, but it was empty.

“It is so weird that you two sleep together,” she said from right behind me, obviously seeing the rumpled sheets that I had jumped out of a moment before.

Embarrassment wiggled through my stomach at her observation. I suddenly felt very uncomfortable having her here, like she was seeing something that was meant for me and Ilyan only. I folded my arms around my torso, wishing I had made her wait outside, wishing I could ask her to leave.

“I have nightmares,” I said, the attempt to defend my choice coming off flat. Not like it made any difference, especially since I hadn’t had any of those nightmares in months, weeks for everyone else.

“Yes, Thom told me,” she said casually, and I narrowed my eyes at her. She had mentioned him more than once the few times that I had seen her, making it sound like Thom had somehow become her confidante in two days flat. I wanted to ask, but she wasn’t even looking at me anymore; her focus was out the large windows as she chewed on her lip.

I was suddenly glad that Wyn wasn’t watching me as I draped my arm over Ilyan, leaning over him as I ran the tips of my fingers over the scars on his chest. I pushed the warm pressure of my magic into the thin white lines as I traced them, the small surges forcing him awake.

Ilyan. I sent the whisper into his mind, knowing he could hear me even if he wasn’t fully alert. I need you to wake up.

His alarm peaked at my statement, his fear for me heightening in apprehension. His arms wrapped around me without warning, pulling me into him before I could get away, my feet leaving the floor as he rolled me on top of him.

“Jste all right, mi lasko?” His lips brushed against my jaw as he mumbled, his accent thick as he transitioned between English and Czech.

I’m fine, I said as I tried to fight the blush that moved up my cheeks from being in this position with him in front of someone else. “Wyn is here.”

“What do you mean Wyn is here?” he asked, his usual morning impatience invading his voice like the snap of a whip.

“She means I am standing next to you, watching this horrible display,” Wyn’s voice was a sugar smack that I didn’t think I had heard from her before. “So, if you wouldn’t mind putting a shirt on...”

I wasn’t sure if Wyn was being snotty or trying to be funny, but either way, I couldn’t ignore the way her presence made me feel guilty, or the way Ilyan’s hackles went up while the joy at having me in his arms vanished into frustration.