Scorched Treachery (Imdalind, #3)(82)

Ryland’s body stiffened, the large muscles in his shoulders bulging beneath his blue polo shirt. My body prickled as my magic flared in expectation of an outburst.

“She wouldn’t... I mean...” Ryland’s fingers began to dig into Joclyn’s skin, his grip tightening with every word. “If you saw what he made us do... I mean... YOU CAN’T HAVE HER!” His voice roared, making the glass in the window rattle, his magic erupting out of him. The whirlwind of power circled through the room, ripping blankets, pictures, and ornaments out of their places.

“SHE’S MINE!” Ryland yelled only a second later, as the torrent continued, his hands digging into her, little drops of her blood trailing at his fingertips.

That was enough. Seeing her blood was all it took for my instincts to kick in, for my heart to thump for her safety. My magic surged as I threw him away from her, his body slamming into the stone wall of my suite where I restrained him.

The second he had left her side, I had gone to her, my arms resting over her in a physical shield.

Ryland looked at me in a panic, his eyes wild as he fought against me.

“Don’t ever touch her like that,” I snarled, aware that my composure had left.

“My, my, Ilyan,” Ovailia soothed as she came up beside me. “Having trouble letting him near Joclyn are we?”

“He was hurting her.”

“That doesn’t matter. He’s her mate.”

“That bond was broken. Or have you forgotten what it takes to break a bond Ovailia,” I let my hard voice plague my words as I turned to face Ovailia, allowing my height to tower over her dauntingly. She met my hard gaze with a glare of her own, her lips turned up in that wicked little half smile.

“Oh now, how could I forget? No matter how much you wanted me to.”

She smiled wider, and I froze, my face in its hard mask. I wanted her out of here, out of this room and out of the Abbey. If I forced her out now, she would only instruct the Trpaslíks to attack. My father’s plan was clicking into place now, his carefully woven web settling in around us. Like all webs, there was always a hole.

“I’ll just take him to my suite for now, shall I?” Ovailia asked, the gleam in her eyes making it obvious she knew she had me. “He can come check on Joclyn in a few hours.”

Ovailia moved toward Ryland as my magic released him, letting him slide to the floor.

“I can’t leave her. I don’t care what you say, Ilyan. I need her, I can’t...” Ryland’s voice was so weak, so pained, and I couldn’t ignore the desperation that lined it.

“I know, Ryland. I will let you see her again soon. I promise.”

Ryland opened his mouth to say something, but Ovailia stopped him. With one whispered word from her, his face hardened, his eyes dark as he followed Ovailia out without a word, his eyes never leaving Joclyn’s sleeping body.

I had no choice but to let them go, to leave Ryland in Ovailia’s hands and let her manipulate him right in front of me. I could already feel the pieces of a larger game fall into place. Joclyn’s sight from only a few weeks before rang in my ears, the words strong beside the vision that she had shared with me. The vision of Ovailia carrying Ryland down the hall.

‘A tryst has been set in motion, one you cannot ignore. The father of the four is using his seed one against another, and in the end, none will fall until two lives are lost. It cannot be stopped. Beware where your trust lays.’

For once I needed time on my side, but in only a matter of minutes, time had already effectively ruined our chances.





Chapter Twenty-Five





I hadn’t slept since yesterday morning. I hadn’t dared. I couldn’t relax after Joclyn had woken up, my name soft on her lips before she attempted to murder her mate. Former mate. I had to keep reminding myself that the bond was broken, broken by my father without their permission, their love tarnished for his wicked agenda. It made me sick to think about. Even though part of me pained at the thought, I just knew I had to find a way to get Joclyn past her fear of him.

My experiences over the last two weeks had been only a small touch of what Ryland must have felt while separated from Joclyn for so long, constantly praying for her health and safety.

Then to see her again and have her attack you... I shook my head. Part of me wanted to bring Ryland to her now, to let him be there to comfort her and protect her, while another part of me wanted him to stay far away.

No matter what I wanted, he couldn’t come back. It wasn’t safe for him here. Joclyn had proven that as she huddled against the toilet yesterday, her panic seeping into my soul. I had felt guilty leaving her alone since then. So I kept my visits with Thom and Dramin short, the ones with Ryland and Ovailia even shorter.

I had kept her asleep since her panicked outburst yesterday afternoon in an attempt to keep her mind clear of the nightmares that I knew would haunt her if I left her to sleep naturally. Instead, I chose to constantly replay my song within her mind in an effort to soothe her. It had seemed to work before. I hoped it would help to keep her calm and make her realize that she was safe.

While her sleep was kept dreamless, my waking hours were a nightmare. Joclyn had shown me the memories of the months she was trapped inside Cail’s mind when she had been awake the day before. I had felt every bone break, every impact of her body against stone, walls, and cement. I had watched in terror as she ran through bloodstained hallways, only to come face to face with Ryland who never ceased to find new ways to hurt her.