Kiss of Fire (Imdalind, #1)(80)

I tried again, this time remembering the first time we had climbed the trees and how he had gently coaxed me down and hugged me tightly. My soul flew at the imagery, the magic surging momentarily and shooting out of me, causing the grass to grow about an inch. It was more, but it still wasn’t enough.

I sat up, staring at my dirty fingers in amazement. I had felt it; felt the change. I could have sworn I could almost feel the restrictive cover that the necklace placed over me shift. If only I could shift it enough to overcome it.

“What is it, Joclyn?”

My head snapped up to see all three of them looking at me, confused. I could tell they had just been laughing about something; Wyn’s shoulders still stuttered, as if trying to restrain a latent laugh.

“It’s... I thought...” I paused. No matter how much I was learning to trust Wyn and was growing to like Talon and Ilyan, I still wasn’t sure I was ready to go into everything quite yet. “It’s nothing,” I finished lamely.

Talon turned away from me, returning easily to whatever conversation they had been having a moment before. Wyn stared at me a moment longer before shrugging and returning to jabber along with Talon. Ilyan, though—Ilyan continued to look at me curiously. The intensity of his gaze locked me in place, the familiar blue shooting into me, sending shivers up my spine.

I didn’t like the sensation that his gaze gave me. My stomach glittered with the attention, while simultaneously shying away from him. I was thankful when he looked away, releasing me from my inner turmoil. I shouldn’t be as comfortable with him as I was; I didn’t want to be.

I threw myself back into the grass and focused on what should be my only thought: getting my magic under control so I could help save Ryland.

Last year, when the spring flowers had begun to bloom, Ryland had taken me up the mountain to have pie. We had arrived right at dusk, and Ryland had been quieter than usual during our trek through the forest. When we had gotten there, he had produced not only the pie, but a chicken dinner he had obviously bribed my mother to make; he knew it was one of my favorites. I could still see his broad grin as he produced the food, the memory surging my magic. I plunged my fingers into the dirt again as a small amount escaped. I pulled my attention back to the memory, desperate for more magic to find its way out.

I think it was that night in the mountains that I had started to fall in love with Ryland. After we had eaten and laughed and joked as we always did, we had chased each other through the forest with the water guns that Ry had brought along. I had snaked through the trees, unable to keep my giggling contained, giving Ryland more than one opportunity to soak me. My sneakers had squished as I walked, another sure give-away. I had caught sight of Ryland ahead of me and prepared to make my attack when a perfect circle of flowers caught my attention.

Purple pansies grew among the pine needles and forest decay in a dainty, four foot wide ring. It was such an odd flower to find in the forest, and the circle so perfectly round. I had walked around it slowly, something pulling me to stand in the middle of it, even though I was sure it was taboo.

“Go ahead,” Ryland had said. Now, even a year later, his voice remained crystal clear in my mind.

My magic surged again, but none escaped.

I had stepped over the border of flowers slowly, laughing at the intent of this new game. Ryland had walked around me, hailing the king of the fairies and urging him to accept me as a gift and to treat me well, his voice barely able to contain his laughter. Ry had leaned down slowly and plucked one of the beautiful flowers, presenting it to me with smoldering eyes…

“How did you do that?” Wyn said.

I shot up, surprised at the garden of pansies that had grown around me. Ilyan and Talon had disappeared, leaving only Wyn to witness my amazing breakthrough. I reached out and touched the soft petals; they were almost identical to the ones from my memory.

“Ryland. Our memories together,” I whispered, fighting the tears that still fought their way out from my extended visit with such beautiful memories.

“Really?”

I didn’t dare look at her; I only nodded.

“You think of Ryland, and your magic can move? What do you think of? Kissing him, his rippling muscles...? What?”

My heart thudded as I looked up to her: I didn’t know what to say. “No, nothing like that. Just him. Memories of him.”

Wyn’s shoulders slunk sadly. “Like kissing him?”

“No, Wyn,” I whispered. “I have never kissed him.”

She stared at me in shock; she almost looked scared. “Never?”

“No, never. I mean, we got close,” I added, just in case she got the wrong idea, “but we never actually made the connection.”

Wyn continued to stare at me with that strange look on her face. I ran my finger through the flowers again in an attempt not to look at her.

“Is that bad?” I asked when the silence had become too much.

“No, no, no.” Wyn reassured me. “It’s just that... normally to have a connection as strong as yours, you would have at least kissed.”

I began to feel even more uncomfortable. I looked down into the carpet of flowers as the blush crept up my cheeks.

“Your souls must be connected,” she sighed.

I couldn’t help but hear that teenage longing in her voice.

“It’s like you are meant to be.”