Burnt Devotion (Imdalind, #5)(19)

Kill her!

Kill her.

“Kill … Kill … kill.”

“Look at me, Ryland. Look at me.”

I kept repeating the word over and over, the call for blood flowing from me, until Sain grabbed my chin and forced me to look at him. His hard eyes dug into me enough that I could focus on not pulling away, even if the word kept coming.

“Focus. Think of the space before the dreams, the space where your heart and soul are one. Think of how you felt when Wyn placed a shield over your heart … that calm. You said it yourself. You want your heart back. You want your soul back. That’s what you want,” he repeated, his hand dropping from my face, his now bloodstained fingers looking broken in the dim light.

Sain was right—it was what I wanted—but he was also right in another way. In order to find that, in order to reach that, I would have to face my father.

Face me.

It was that thought that destroyed me.

Try.

His laugh echoed inside of me as if he had heard my thoughts, as if he knew the impossibility of what was before me and found joy in watching me fail.

He always had.

I always will.

Try. You will fail.

The thought was a painful stab, and I jerked, causing my head to slam into the stone in a move that was both a comfort and pain.

The laugh ended almost immediately. I only wished the deep gnawing that it had pierced through me would leave, as well. That seemed to be stuck.

“The soul’s blade,” I whispered, the acknowledgement of where my sanity was kept filled me with more fear than hope. Fear because I knew what it was, knew what it had been used for. Fear because I knew where it was. More than just guarded by my father, it was within me, as well.

“Yes.” His voice was little more than a whisper, the depth filled with a gravelly yearning I didn’t think was possible for him. It was a sound, a growl, like my father would make when he saw a woman he desired who possessed magic he wanted to take.

Desire and greed all wrapped together with enough malice to melt a brick.

But from Sain?

My eyes wrenched to him as my stomach twisted, my jaw clenching in expectation of seeing my father before me along with an army of his men. The inflection was so clear, the phrasing so similar to what I knew.

However, it was merely Sain, merely the disheveled old man with skin like battered leather.

“Yes,” he repeated so normally I was sure I had only heard the words in my head. The clarity had me questioning my sanity even further.

If that was possible.

“It is with my father.” I sighed. “It is inside of me.” The word was a gasp as I tried to get him to understand, and my hand pressed against my heart as the painful throb I had felt since I had first stabbed the thing into my own heart pulsed painfully.

I was sure it wasn’t really inside me.

Sometimes, it felt like it, though.

You can never face me. The voice was a laugh.

“Ryland?”

Just look at you.

Stop playing around.

Stop wasting time.

You need to kill them.

“Ryland?”

Now.

Now?

Before it’s too late.

Kill them.

Kill them…

“Ryland!” The voice was a snap. Although it should have been enough to pull me out of the psychotic prison I was trapped in, it only ignited it more. The owner of the voice was the last person I needed to see right then.

It’s him.

It’s time.

Kill him!

I moved before I had even had a chance to focus on the tall man who stood before me with his ridiculous blue eyes and haughty expression. I knew who it was by the accent in his voice.

As one, the monster inside of me collided with the monster I had become. No matter how much I wished to defeat it, I already knew I never could.

Kill it!

“Kill!” The voice screamed as I erupted off the wall, my body flying toward him while my magic flared out of me, ribbons of red and black streaming from me in a mad attempt to wrap around him, to devour him.

To destroy him.

Kill.

Kill.

“Kill!”

I had barely been able to move more than a few feet before everything froze. The magic that had been streaming away from me slammed into a brick wall, recoiling painfully back into me as my body flew back to where it had started. My back thumped into the wall as Ilyan’s magic held me in place, a thick shield moving around me, yet whether to protect me from myself or him from me, I wasn’t sure.

Judging by the rage that lined Ilyan’s face, I became positive it was a bit of both. Unlike any time before, I was grateful for it.

I was also scared.

Everyone had heard of Ilyan’s temper. He was known for it. What was more, although I had seen it before when I had helped him to escape my father, to have it directed at me was another story. Terrifying was not a strong enough word.

What are you waiting for?

You weakling, attack him.

Kill him.

I can’t.

He’s right there.

Do it now.

Kill!

The look in his eyes silenced the voice to a hum, the boil in my blood one of ice and fear, even though I still felt the need to attack and fight. It was one of trepidation, and the knowledge that he would destroy me with nothing more than a snap was clear.