Scorched Treachery (Imdalind, #3)(6)

“I understand.” I jumped as the voice came out of the dark. Even though I recognized it as Talon’s right away, I had not expected to hear it or the stress that lined the words behind it.

“Only a week? Is it that unsafe?”

I could tell Talon was trying to be quiet. The light from the phone lit up his face, making the deep stress lines look even darker. My heart clunked as his stress leached through our connection and into me.

So that was what had woken me.

“What about Ovailia? She has been asking questions...”

Talon’s voice cut off as Ilyan interrupted him, his head bobbing in agreement with something Ilyan said. I pulled the blankets up around me as I watched him, fighting the temptation to go back to sleep. I wanted more information.

Only a minute later he lowered the phone. The light from the screen went out leaving us alone in the brightening yellow shades of dawn that seeped in through the vent in the ceiling of our cave.

“Is everything okay?” I asked, my voice startling him.

“I didn’t know you were awake,” Talon said as he moved over to me, his weight indenting the bed enough to make me roll toward him.

“Yeah, someone’s stress woke me up.”

“Not mine surely?” he smiled as he moved to sit next to me, his arms draping over me as if he was locking me in place.

He looked down at me, and my stomach twisted. I knew what the fire behind his eyes meant, what the deep surge of magic I felt tumble through me was leading up to. I smiled back at him, arching my back as I lifted my face to meet his, my lips pressing deeply against his.

My magic surged violently at the intimate connection, our magic rejoicing as it met its mate and curled around each other.

Talon lowered himself onto me, his body heavy against mine. I sighed as his hand moved up my arm to cup my face. His tongue dragged against my bottom lip before he left my lips and peppered deep, longing kisses along my jawbone and neck.

I couldn’t help the moan that escaped my lips. I couldn’t understand where this was coming from, especially with the stress that had lined his voice only a moment ago, but I wasn’t going to complain. I was enjoying this far too much.

Talon kissed my neck once more before he stilled against me, his breathing deep and ragged. I closed my eyes and savored the way our contact moved through my body, the way every nerve ending felt illuminated. I could have stayed like that for hours, but I could still feel Talon’s erratic heartbeat, and I knew he needed more from me.

“Are you okay?” I asked again, changing the question to get the answer I really wanted.

Talon shifted his weight, moving back to sit at the edge of the bed, his hand moving to cup my face. I looked at him, wishing he would answer, not even knowing if he could. His dark eyes glistened as more light filtered into our room, the sparks of dawn igniting around us.

“Talon?”

“I think I know who the crying voice belongs to,” Talon said, his bold statement making my arms and legs feel like lead. I hadn’t expected that. I sat up and leaned closer to him, my heart thumping, desperate for more information.

“Who?” I asked, my voice only a whisper, the sound swallowed by my jumpy nerves. I could feel my magic skitter around inside of my skin, ready for a fight.

“All day yesterday, only one person asked me about Ilyan’s welfare – several times, each more desperate. It was very unlike her to care...”

“No!” I gasped. His statement combined with what he had said on the phone a moment ago putting the name in my head. “Not Ovailia! I mean, she’s wicked, yeah, but she wouldn’t betray him, not again.”

“What would stop her from doing it again?” Talon asked softly. I held my tongue. He had a point. Ovailia’s personality was not one that lent itself to loyalty; she would go where the chips lay thickest.

“Besides, the crying we keep hearing, it is like she is fighting against the bind Ilyan placed over everyone to keep his location secret.”

I could only stare and nod. He had a point. Ilyan had placed that little touch of magic inside of everyone when he first went on the run, hundreds of years ago. I shouldn’t be surprised it was still around and strong enough to keep Ovailia’s tongue at bay.

“I’m going to go talk to her,” Talon said, his voice making it sound as if he was walking into a death camp, not simply speaking with Ovailia. I didn’t want to face Ovailia, not in the slightest, but I couldn’t let him face her alone. This confrontation would not be pretty.

“Let’s go,” I said, trying to ignore the foreboding pulse of my nerves.

I jumped out of bed and took the two quick steps to my dresser. I didn’t even look as I grabbed random items of clothing in my rush to leave: Styx shirt, red skinny jeans, black converse.

Talon, now dressed himself, nodded once before moving toward the door, my converse squeaking as I followed him.

Everything was tense inside of me. My muscles and magic were tight against my skin, just waiting for Ovailia to pop around a corner and attack us. Talon walked in front of me, his hulking form leading the way, his fists clenched to his sides. I wanted to reach out and hold his hand, but he did not need that kind of comfort.

We had just passed the orchard when a loud robotic song began to play from the pocket of my jeans. I pulled the phone out to find Ilyan’s name lit up. On the screen was a picture of him and Talon from when they dressed up in some medieval armor they had found in a storage room.