Kiss of Fire (Imdalind, #1)(75)

I wanted to pull away from him; I wanted to run to Ryland. I grasped for the necklace, desperate to bring back the connection, desperate to see him again. Ilyan grabbed my hands and steadied them, his warmth moving into me again, the force of it weaker this time.

My screaming subsided into a low sob that racked through my chest. I forced my gaze away from my hands, surprised to see Ilyan’s bedroom and not the brown and orange of the room I had been given. Ilyan clutched me to him as I continued to cry, grateful that my tears were finally leaving.

“What happened, Joclyn?” he asked when my crying had passed enough I could finally talk.

“Ry... Ryland... he is in pain... so much pain.”

“Another T?uha? What happened, Siln??”

“I saw him; the bruises, the cuts... the blood. Ed... Edmund cut out his mark.” I felt Ilyan’s arms tense around me, his breathing increase in what I could only assume to be anger. “He was young... he didn’t recognize me. Why didn’t he recognize me, Ilyan?” The panic came back, that desperate edge creeping into my voice.

“Oh, Siln?, his mind is being deleted. He remembers less and less each day. Did he remember you eventually?”

“Yes, and before he left, I could have sworn it was him, that he wasn’t sixteen-year-old Ryland anymore; that it was really him. That he wasn’t sixteen-years-old anymore.” I felt Ilyan’s body relax a bit. “Is that good?”

“It means that all of him is still there, that he is still fighting.”

“Why did he look so young then?”

“Because as much as he fights, he is still losing the battle. The longer he fights it, the older he will look in your T?uhas. But when he forgets you completely, when he is only a child, then it will be too late.”

Ilyan’s words had a sharp edge that cut through me; it broke the dam I had made deep inside and let every single pent-up emotion and fear out in a tidal wave. I began crying uncontrollably again, but I didn’t want Ilyan to take the pain away and put me to sleep with his magic. I needed to feel it. I cried and clung to him as I let everything out.

I howled over the death of my mother, the image of her lifeless body, vivid and vibrant. I cried at the memory of our lunch, the last time we were together, and how I had given her everything that she wanted; the daughter she had always wanted me to be.

I sobbed over the loss of my normalcy. I balled up against Ilyan as I thought about the changes in my life, the drastic differences that had occurred within such a small amount of time.

I screamed with the agonizing pain of a broken heart; my voice wailed as it broke and bled in my throat. I felt my heart break into a million pieces as everything hit me simultaneously, for the last time. Every memory of Ryland flashed by, and although I wanted to smile and laugh, the memories only hurt. Hurt that I could not have him; hurt at how much everything had changed.

Through it all, Ilyan just held me, his wide hands rubbing my back. He shushed and cooed and sang to me as I cried, and all of it made me want to cry more, because his weren’t the arms I craved.

When it was done, I knew it was done. I knew I was stronger than the pain now.

“Why would he do that, Ilyan? Why would he cut the mark out?” Ilyan moved my hair away from my face, his finger lingering on my own mark. I jerked my head away, not wanting such an intimate touch from him.

“Do you remember when I told you the kiss is more like a poisonous bite? Well, the kiss itself is caused by a pool of poison. If it’s cut out, you release the poison into the person who bears the kiss.”

I gasped and the tears came back again.

“Will it kill him?”

“It can, but I think Edmund only hopes to weaken him further, and gain control over his magic that much faster.”

“Why? Why is he doing this?”

“A punishment probably, but also to increase his control. Edmund has always viewed Ryland as a weapon, and now he sees the best opportunity to use him as such.”

“We will be too late, won’t we?”

Ilyan’s face made it clear that he didn’t know. Our eyes locked together in some silent agreement that we would try, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that trying wouldn’t be enough anymore.

Ilyan would say no more; he simply laid me back down in his bed and put me to sleep with his magic. I was probably more grateful than I should have been, considering all I dreamed about was chasing a bloody trail through the golden hallways of the LaRue mansion.





TwentyFour


The following morning, I realized the downside of the white-on-white scheme of Ilyan’s room. The moment the sun began to creep over the horizon and the gray light of dawn had begun to fade away, the room became supercharged with light. The beams of golden sun shone through the window that Ilyan had pushed his bed up against. They bounced around and increased in brightness as the white walls and carpet reflected them back. Once the light had infiltrated my troubled sleep, I sat upright, sleep leaving me much quicker than I would have liked.

I was still in Ilyan’s bed, still in Ilyan’s rooms. I felt uncomfortable and scared. I shouldn’t be here. Not only was he some sort of king in this place, he was awfully friendly.

I sat there trying to plan some form of escape. Even if I made it out the door, I wasn’t sure I could remember which door led to the brown and orange room. I was having trouble focusing; a subtle buzzing was taking over my body, causing my mind to bounce around. It felt like the warm heat I had always felt from Ryland and Ilyan, but more alive, more electric. I brushed off the feeling, trying to focus on my escape again. The buzzing under my skin grew steadily, making me feel jittery and anxious.