Kiss of Fire (Imdalind, #1)(104)

“Not going to try to attack me with your weak magic?” Ryland was right in front of me now. He leaned intimately close to me, one hand resting on the wall beside my head. I could feel his breath against my face; feel his hip as he pushed it against me. He smiled wickedly, and I felt the bile rise dangerously in my throat.

“That’s okay; I have another idea.” His voice was a sickening purr.

His hand moved into my line of vision, his fingers twiddling together, small sparks flashing from the surge in his magic. The sparks he produced continued to grow as his fingers rubbed together wildly. In only a moment, a small dagger appeared in his hand, the small silver blade glinting wickedly in the magical light that flashed and pulsed around us.

“You love this body, don’t you, little girl?” He smiled wickedly. I couldn’t look away from the dagger that spun between his fingers. “You love the way it looks, the way it makes you feel.” He pushed his hip further into me; I gasped in pain at the pressure.

“Well, this body, it loves you, too.”

The dagger stopped spinning and my eyes flew to his with a glimmer of hope. It was pointless.

“But I don’t,” he said.

I didn’t even see the movement; I was too consumed with looking at his face. One minute there was no pain, and the next, the pain had moved beyond me. I screamed as the tiny dagger began to dig its way into the skin that covered my heart. I felt the warmth of my own blood drizzling down my chest as the dagger slowly worked its way into my chest, deeper and deeper, toward my beating heart.

“That doesn’t hurt, does it?” Ryland’s voice was so joyous; he enjoyed watching my agony as he tortured me.

“Ryland!” I screamed his name, my voice finding form as the pain grew. “Fight him, Ryland!” The evil imposter who restrained me only laughed as he dug the knife deeper into my skin.

“Sad. I don’t think he can hear you.”

“Ryland! It’s me. It’s Joclyn. Snap out of it, please!”

He only laughed with increased malice. I screamed again, feeling the blood pool around the waistline of my tight pants.

“Ryland!” I panted between screams, calling to him, desperate for him to make a connection. “Remember the tree… the old guard… at the hospital… Remember when we… ran away…” I screamed and panicked as the pain increased. He only laughed as he looked at me through the depthless pit of his black eyes.

“Remember when you kissed me…” I tried one last time before my voice broke; my mind too dizzy and confused to focus properly. My head slumped down; I focused on my own heartbeat, hoping that Ilyan would find me, that someone would see me, before it was too late.

“Joclyn.”

My head rose slowly to see him—Ryland, blue eyes and all—looking at me. I couldn’t bring myself to say anything; I just looked at him. His eyes looked me over, stopping in a panic when he saw the dagger that still remained in my chest, his hand and my skin covered with wet, sticky blood.

“Oh, God, what have I done?” he asked as he released his magical hold on me and I fell into his arms. He held onto me tightly as his magic surged into me; I felt the warmth fill me all over as the dizziness retreated and the flow of my blood seemed to stop. I looked up at him carefully, the obvious request lining my face.

“We have to get out of here,” he whispered, not waiting for me to respond before he exploded into the air, my body still pressed tightly against his.

We didn’t even make it past the hole in the ceiling before the entire process was reversed. A gust of wind I knew neither of us controlled pushed against us in the opposite direction, dragging us back down to the destroyed floor below.

Ryland’s arms went limp and I tumbled out of them, heading down toward the ground, fast. My fear of falling only lasted a moment before Ilyan’s wind grabbed me and pulled me, soaring across the room, straight into his arms.

“It’s time to go,” he hissed in my ear.

I turned from Ilyan, searching for Ryland. He stood across the room from us, his body tall and still as he looked intently in our direction, his eyes back to the colorless cast. He didn’t move; he didn’t flinch; he stayed still, just as his father commanded him to do.

Edmund’s hand was placed on Ryland’s shoulder, the fingers curved aggressively as they dug into Ryland’s skin. Edmund seemed to taunt us from across the room, his stance just willing us to come and attack him. I knew we would lose if we tried, but I did not want to accept it.

“Ryland!”

“We can’t take him, Siln?,” Ilyan said. He wrapped his arms around me as he pulled me away from them.

“No!” I yelled out in a panic, reaching for Ryland.

“I can’t get him away from Edmund and get you out of here safely, Joclyn. You are my number one priority now. We have to go.” Ilyan grabbed me tightly around the waist, and jumped us back. Edmund had just released Ryland’s shoulder and Ryland was now advancing toward us surprisingly fast.

“No! I can do it! I can save him!” I don’t know what made me say that; I knew I couldn’t. My heart beat wildly as I fought against Ilyan’s arm; my body, my heart, desperate to get back to Ryland.

“I can do it! Let me go!” Ilyan held me tighter as I fought against him, my hands clawing uselessly at his strong arm.