Scorched Treachery (Imdalind, #3)(41)

I knew Thom wouldn’t understand, he had lived under our father’s rule for centuries, his viewpoint would always be somewhat skewed.

“It’s just a blood connection, Ilyan. It is how Edmund is able to control Joclyn’s dreams. They have Sain, but we have Dramin…”

“No, I will never allow you to cut open my heart or sever my soul in an attempt to save her. This is madness, Thom.” Dramin’s voice was panicked and scared. He knew what was involved in blood magic. There was a reason it was never done; a reason it was so terrible that Edmund had used it against Joclyn, that he had used his own son to perform it.

“It’s the only way,” Thom begged, his energy fading, if only slightly.

“No, Thom. You would mutilate her soul and mine and destroy Ilyan’s heart for only a minimal chance to save her. I can’t let you do that.” Dramin placed his hand on Thom’s arm, but Thom pulled away.

“It is not futile. I have done it before,” I balked at Thom’s words, this fact about Thom disgusting me. To willingly use a blood connection... it was despicable.

“It’s the only way.”

“No.” I spoke hard, my power flowing over him as he sunk away.

His shoulders sagged, my magical barrier freezing his logic in place and allowing his better logic to finally be able to take over. I drew my magic away from him when he had obviously calmed, my jaw clenching that it had come to that in order to control him.

“Then what do we do?” Thom whispered, and I relaxed.

“We wait,” I said, knowing there wasn’t another option. Not anymore.

We looked at each other, each one knowing it was the only option, but none of us willing to say more than that.

I nodded once before moving away from them, my body taking me right to Joclyn’s side without a thought. My fingers ran over the lines of her face as my magic swelled through her, my touch moving over eyes, her cheeks, and across the soft skin before her ear. I lay down next to her, my body pressing up against hers, as it had only an hour before. The warmth from her skin counteracted the chill from the stone and caused my muscles to tense at the differing temperatures.

I pushed my magic into her, confident that I would not hurt her. For the first time in my life, I would not kill someone by filling them with my ability. I felt her magic push against mine, but the strength of it still seemed to be missing. It was still a substance within her, and the substance was healthy and alive, but there was not much more than that.

“Come back to me, Jos,” I whispered to her, hopeful that my voice would flow to her as hers had to me. It wasn’t fair what fate had planned for us – to take us from one hell to another, to tear us away from each other, to tear her away from her mate.

I let my magic settle inside of her for a minute before I moved it toward my target, fusing parts of myself with her, my magic connecting with nerve endings in an attempt to contact her. I let my finger slide down to connect with her mark, the jolt rocking through me as it always had, every day that I had touched it from the first. Even when she had felt nothing, I had always felt it. I sighed at the sensation and closed my eyes, letting my mind fuse with hers.

I would have yelled at what I found, but I was too scared to see the emptiness of her mind.

There was a reason I could not sense her power, her emotions, or her soul. Nothing was there. Her body was an empty shell. I gasped internally at the emptiness, at the confusion and loss I felt from being inside of her like this and finding her gone.

There should have been memories, dreams, and visions, but I saw nothing but blackness, the velvety color clear and dark.

If she had left to join her mate in some expanse of eternity, would it leave an empty shell behind? I was foolish to think that this would work. That even a blood connection would work. It couldn’t work because there was nothing here to attach to. There was no bridge to bring her back.

Edmund must have attached himself to Ryland before he used the connection. That’s how he gained control. For us, it was too late.

I let my mind linger inside the black realm that Joclyn had left behind, searching for any way to bring her home.

As I searched, I sang. I sang the song I had written for her all those hundreds of years ago. The song that was only for her.

I left the song inside of her head hoping that it would, at least, welcome her home.





Chapter Twelve





My stomach growled with the lack of food, but I just ignored it. I had gone longer without eating. Forced starvation was one of my father’s favored techniques. But I had been living in comfort for too long, my body had become used to consistency. Being trapped in a cave for the past few days had not helped to give it the consistency it now felt it needed.

I laid my head against the back of the cave, ignoring the hard cold stone that pressed against my body and focused instead on the soft warmth of the girl that was curled against me. At least I could make Joclyn comfortable. I pulled Dramin’s robe around her, tucking the edges under her in an attempt to trap her body heat against her.

Her heartbeat was steady against me. It hummed against my skin as it followed the rise and fall of her chest. I focused on it, waiting for her body to seize again.

I had slept with her here for the past few nights, her body warm against mine. But tonight I could not sleep. I didn’t know what was going on in the prison she remained in, but her body had twitched and moved more than usual. Only an hour ago, her knee had been hurt so badly that the tendons had been ripped away from the muscle.