Soul of Flame (Imdalind Series #4)(83)

“It’s time, My Lord,” Sain said as his voice drifted toward us, the sound loud and unwanted in my ears.

“Thank you, Sain,” Ilyan called back as he dismissed him.

The warmth of the bed suddenly felt cold and brittle against me.

The air seemed heavy as we lay there, looking between us without seeing, the reality of what we were about to walk into so unwanted that neither of us dared to put voice to it. Ilyan said nothing before his lips pressed against my forehead, the pressure warm and needed before he was gone.

I followed his lead, my legs swinging over the side of the bed as a flash of white filled the room, bringing in the light of day before it was gone and thunder took its place.

The flashes and rumbles were so close together that they sky could barely breathe before the next strike came. I watched them, knowing what they meant, my heart breaking as they came closer. As my time grew shorter. The earth knew what was coming, and she was preparing the way.

I listened to the grinding of wood as Ilyan pulled clothes out of the dresser—the sound almost as loud as the thunder—and still I did not move. I wasn’t in any hurry, anyway. It wasn’t like I had many choices of what to wear anyway. What does one wear to the day they die?

My love, Ilyan whispered internally as he kneeled down before me, his glistening eyes hooded as they swallowed me whole. He set a small pile of clothes beside me before gathering my hands in his, his magic warming through me as my skin prickled with the touch. While not as strong as it had been in the T?uha, it was still more than it had been before the bonding—more than I had ever felt—and I smiled at the contact, even though my heart beat irregularly in fear.

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” Ilyan promised, the impossible words like ash against my soul.

“Please don’t, Ilyan,” I begged, my voice dragging as I looked down to our intertwined hands. I couldn’t hear him say something like this. I couldn’t let the false hope into my heart.

“Don’t say things that you can’t control.”

“I may not be able to guarantee your life, but I will protect you. I promise you this with my very breath.”

I looked up to him. The promise that he would do what he had trained for—what he had been born for—threatened to shatter me into millions of tiny fragments.

“This morning, I hold the hands of my mate in mine. I hold her heart inside of me, and I vow to protect her. To protect you. To keep you safe, and alive, at all costs. I will follow my heart, and keep my mate safe. Because it is right.”

Ilyan repeated the words that I had battled with my father over for the past few days. It was more than that, though. He had made a vow that could very well break the sight, if it hadn’t been broken already. The unspoken support rang through me, the promise of what we could lose, of what we did not want to lose.

What I didn’t want to lose.

I didn’t want to lose the feel of his touch; I didn’t want to lose his smile. I didn’t want to lose the way he had helped me through the biggest trials in my life. I didn’t want to lose him. I just didn’t know if it was possible, not anymore. After last night, after seeing that box and feeling my magic flare with knowledge, I knew. The magic inside of me knew. We couldn’t change it.

No matter what my father had said.

Right then, looking into his eyes, I wanted to change it. I wanted to break the sight and experience an eternity with him, experience life, have the future that the sight told me I could never have. I knew, right then, I would give anything to change it.

I nodded once, not knowing what else to say, as he pressed his lips to my hands.

He said no more. His kiss left as he stood, leaving me alone as he walked into the bathroom, the pile of clothes by my side. I heard the click of the door and stood, stripping off Ilyan’s lightweight pajamas that I had been wearing for what felt like days to replace them with what I recognized at once as what I had worn in the sight.

I pulled on the dark washed jeans Ilyan had brought, almost afraid he would come back before I had the chance to change. The chill of the diamond shocked me as I stripped off my shirt, the necklace cold and hard against my chest. I had forgotten that Ilyan had put it on me. I didn’t know why, but it almost seemed fitting that I would be wearing it when everything ended. I pulled my shirt over the necklace, keeping it under the fabric where it would be safe; where it would stay with me.

The white shirt seemed like a weird choice given the full scale battle I was expected to go into. I didn’t question it, though; I only pulled it over my head, careful not to disrupt the braid, and then pulled as much of the long golden ribbon that trailed through my shirt as I could. I slipped my shoes on and stood in front of the bed, my eyes focused on the wad of fabric that still lay on the comforter as I heard the bathroom door open.

My fingers wrapped around the heavy fabric of the hoodie as I lifted it up. It seemed weird to be holding this in my hands, to be rebelling against putting it on.

I had hidden behind one of these almost my whole life, scared to really find myself, but I had found myself. I had cast the hoodies aside, moved beyond them. Even when I was trapped in Cail’s mind as well as after Ilyan had pulled me out, I had never really wanted to hide again. I had merely wanted to become stronger than what haunted me.

I was stronger than it now.

“A hoodie?”

“Yes,” Ilyan said softly as he came up beside me, taking the fabric from my hands.