Soul of Flame (Imdalind Series #4)(66)

“Yes,” I sighed as Ilyan’s magic continued to flood me. I knew I didn’t need his power to calm me anymore, but the warmth was so familiar, so comforting, that I wasn’t about to push him away yet.

“I am proud of you, my love,” Ilyan whispered, his hand pressing against my cheek, my heart moving to beat in time with his.

For not trying to kill anyone?

“That, too. But more for confronting your father, for showing him your strength.” His accent was thick as he looked down to me, his eyes brimming with so much emotion it was all I could do not to lean forward and hold him. So I held onto his hand tighter, the warmth of his skin intoxicating.

“You can help next time,” I said with a smile, unable to stop the playful chuckle from leaving my voice as I stepped closer to him.

“Kill someone?”

“No, battle with my father.”

“No, my love, some battles are meant for you alone, and this is one. He is your father, and as much as I would have loved to step in, to protect you from the pain I am sure you feel in your heart, this moment may come to define who you are. I want you to discover that for yourself.”

I knew he was right. I already felt my shattered relationship with my father becoming a deeper vein of who I was. Before, his abandonment had destroyed me, turned me into a scared little girl who would rather hide than become who I felt inside. Now, his distance was somehow making me stronger, making me want to prove to him that I was better than he saw me.

I wanted to show him that.

I nodded once as I moved into Ilyan, not really caring if Ryland saw. My eyes darted toward him on instinct, but instead of Ryland huddling against the door, I saw the forest miles away, my magic pulling me to the camp where Edmund’s guard stood. I saw Ovailia laughing at a letter, her smile wide as she instructed the dozens of men that surrounded her. They stood, miles away from us, their focus on a large map almost identical to the one we had in the kitchen.

Fear rippled through me until every muscle felt bound and useless. I clung to Ilyan as Ovailia looked up—almost as if she could see me—before the vision passed, my brain screaming at me what I already knew. This was not a sight, this was now.

Ovailia was preparing her battle plan with instructions from Edmund in her hand, and that could only mean one thing.

We had run out of time.





Seventeen



“Ovailia has received her instructions from Edmund.” I spoke the words louder than I had anticipated, my voice hollow and dead.

The noises that had filled the room stopped abruptly at my words; even Ryland’s mumbled sobs slowed and morphed into whimpers. A powerful surge of determination rumbled my bones as Ilyan stiffened beneath me.

I looked up to Ilyan, the corners of his mouth twitching beneath the powerful mask that he tried to hide behind. His eyes glowed with power as he looked into the darkness of the room, the depth of his eyes showing me things I knew I couldn’t possibly understand.

My heart restarted at seeing that look, my nerves supercharging at Ilyan’s sudden eagerness to fight. I only wished I felt the same.

“Where is she?” Thom growled with a loathing I had never seen from him before, the hatred stronger than what I had even seen in the cave.

The air around Thom rippled as his muscles tensed and flexed while he silently pleaded with me for an answer, something in the way he looked at me ringing true, the look hauntingly familiar.

“Where the forward guard is,” I said, careful to keep my voice level. The traumatic edge of Thom’s magic swelled in the air.

Even though Thom was looking at me, I could tell he didn’t see me. He was looking at something far away, or maybe even far behind. I waited for him to say something, for his anger to bubble out of him, but he stayed silent before he turned toward the door, ready to take on Ovailia himself.

My arms dropped from Ilyan as he rushed toward his brother’s retreating back, my feet planted in place.

Thom tried to make it out of Dramin’s room before Wyn intercepted him, her arms wrapping around his waist as she pulled him back. I felt the heat of her magic surge in the air, andThom yelled in pain as Wyn’s magic dropped him to the ground.

I cringed as Thom continued to fight her, Ilyan meeting them in the middle of the room in a tangle of arms and hair, grunts and yells.

“Let me go, Wynifred!” Thom growled as he swung toward Ilyan, a bright blue flame sparking off his skin.

“Put him out, Wynifred!” Ilyan yelled as he blocked the attack, only to have Thom fire another, even though he knew he could never fight Ilyan and hope to win.

Thunder rocked through the room as their screams increased, the room erupting in ear-splitting sound that slithered through me. The noise ignited my fears as it did Ryland’s, his fingers clawing in his hair as he rocked and moaned on the floor, grey sparks flaring in the air with his mania.

My own fragile sanity tried to take me down the same path that Ryland had spiraled down. The screams grew along with the streaks of Thom and Ilyan’s magic as they continued to fill the room. I howled as a shelf to my right exploded in splinters of wood, my feet pulling me toward Dramin on instinct. The wizened man struggled to sit up and grasp my hand, giving me the contact I required.

The room was moments away from implosion when Sain reached Ryland and Ilyan grabbed Thom’s arms, restraining Thom against him. Thom balled his fists against his thighs as he gave into Ilyan’s hold, knowing he couldn’t break free from him.