Eyes of Ember (Imdalind Series #2)(82)

“Ilyan!” I called his name as I had become accustomed to doing. I needed his strength, his song. I needed someone to tell me it was going to be okay. Feeling like this, he was the one my heart called to. I don’t know if it was because he was the only one that was left or because he was the only one I felt could truly help me. But he was my Protector, and right then, that was what I needed.

“Ilyan!” I wailed his name knowing he would not come. Knowing that even if he did, I could not give him what he truly wanted.

I wailed louder, his name mixing with my tears, my sobs becoming an uncontrollable monster inside my chest. It clenched, and clawed, and burrowed into me, increasing my howls and my pain.

Everything inside of me was breaking. It was not fair for me to feel so much pain. Not when so much was already placed upon me.

I writhed my body in a foolish hope of getting rid of the pain, but it did not help. I could find no comfort. The blankets of security I had placed around me had become a prison.

I had not even felt the covers lift until I felt long sinewy arms I knew all too well wrap around me, a strong chest coming to rest against my back.

I turned in his arms, my tears changing from those of despair to some of hope. Ilyan laid right next to me, his arms wrapped around me tightly, his magic flaring through me as he calmed me. I looked into his bright eyes, my heart beating much faster than it had ever done before.

He smiled slightly as he carefully moved my tangled hair out of my face. His eyes never left mine. They had that look I had seen during the sight, a burning love that incapacitated me.

My tears had slowed to nothing as I reached up, carefully placing my hand against his face. His skin was soft and smooth. I had never touched him this way before.

“You’re alright,” I gasped out, the words almost washed away with my tears.

“I’m alright,” he affirmed, his accent thicker than I had ever heard it. Ilyan pulled me to him, his lips pressing roughly against my forehead before he buried me into his chest. The scarred chest.

“I will never leave you, Siln?.” His voice caught and I could tell he was crying too.

We stayed like that, my tears falling over his chest, his in my hair, our joy at seeing one another again settling in.

Slowly I began to come back to myself, the rough scars on his chest coming into my line of sight.

I reached up to trace the lines with my fingertips, my heart unsure about such close and intimate contact. The white scars zigzagged over his chest, no longer as angry as the red they had originally been.

“I am sorry, Ilyan, that the water hurt you.” I continued to trace the raised scars, the skin rough under my fingertips. He stiffened at my words.

“So they showed you then?” His voice was taut and I could hear the fear behind it. I didn’t want him to be scared. I pushed my head against his chest, the wild thumping of his heart fluttering in my ear.

“Yes.”

His heart continued to pound as he hesitated, as he decided what to say to me.

“I am glad I have them, the scars. They have always been a reminder of what I may someday have.”

“I know.” My voice was soft.

“And... you are not mad at me?”

I hesitated. I wasn’t sure how to phrase this, how to say what needed to be said. I pulled away from him, my eyes meeting his as he searched mine for any signs of what was to come. I reached up, my fingers hesitant to touch his face, to trace his features, before withdrawing again, leaving him untouched.

“I’m not mad,” I said simply.

“But why not?” I could understand his confusion, but there was something very important that I needed him to understand.

“Because I love you too, Ilyan.” His face lit up at my words, but my heart only cinched tighter at what I was about to say. “But it doesn’t change anything. We can never be together.”

I thought for sure I would have shattered his heart. But instead, the radical light that seemed to be emanating off of him grew, his magic flaring within me until I could feel it push against my barrier. His smile grew and he pulled me back into him, his arms wrapping me tightly to him.

“I know, Joclyn. I know it doesn’t change anything. I know I can never have you. And I am alright with that, you are still a child after all. I expect nothing from you. But hearing you say it, even if it is only this once, that is enough for me. I can live the rest of my life knowing that you love me, even if nothing else will come of it.”

Ilyan sighed heavily and I felt his tears fall against my skin, my own not far behind. I could still vividly recall his heartbreak as he talked to my Father, his longing as he watched the images of us, the images that would never be. I wanted to soothe him, my soul longing to heal those pains.

“You are not alone, Ilyan,” I whispered. “Not anymore.”

“Thank you, Joclyn.” I buried my face into his chest, his warmth and his heartbeat surrounding me.

My heart swelled at the comfort he gave me. Thom was right, I needed someone to help me to hold the weight. And here, in Ilyan’s arms, I actually felt stronger – like I could accomplish anything. And even though nothing could ever happen between us, I knew the devotion we held for each other would be enough.

Until the day I died.





Ilyan did not move from my side all night. We lay in each other’s arms until we drifted off to sleep. Ilyan was there when I awoke from yet another of my nightmares, his song softly lulling me back to sleep. I woke the next morning with his arms around me, our legs intertwined comfortably.