Soul of Flame (Imdalind Series #4) (33 page)

“It is yours now, my love,” he whispered as his fingers moved off my arm, the soft touch moving up my neck and over my face. I closed my eyes at the calming pressure, my focus on the feel of his fingers against my skin as well as the way his free hand moved to wrap around mine, his magic settling in joy.

“Thank you, Ilyan,” I said, my mind so relaxed I wasn’t even sure if I had spoken the words aloud.

“Anything, my love.”

Ilyan caressed my arm, my jaw, the bridge of my nose as we lay in the sand, the waves crashing by our feet—the water splashing over our toes as the tide came closer—but I didn’t move. I didn’t want to. He looked into me so passionately that I was sure I was going to get lost in his eyes—lost in the way he held me, lost in the feel of his touch. I didn’t care; I wanted to be lost.

Ilyan smiled as he began to sing to me, our song gentle and calming as it rose and fell with the rhythm of the waves. He shared the words he had written for me all those years ago. Words I was beginning to finally understand.

Hush now, child. Be still, be calm. The world will change at the new dawn. And when it does, you will see, just how you and I were meant to be.

He sang over and over, my lips moving along until I began to sing as well, my voice shaky as my breath washed over his chest.

We sang together until the ocean left and the rumble of low thunderheads crashed through our room in the abbey, jerking me awake as Ilyan’s arm tightened around me, pulling me into his bare chest.

His tension swelled into me, the fear rumbling through me with the same power that the thunder surrounding us did.

It was time.

I intertwined my fingers with his as I leaned back into him, his hold on me increasing until I could feel his heart beat against my back, his magic that would now forever live inside of me bubbling around to protect me, to calm me.

It was weird to feel so connected to him; the power of the Zȇlství so strong that it shocked me. Before, with only our souls fused together, I had felt some of his emotions, I had heard some of his thoughts. It was nothing compared to what I was experiencing right then.

In that moment, I felt things I had never felt before, heard things that I knew were just for me, and even some things that I knew were not. I felt my magic within Ilyan, the same way I was sure he felt his within me. The presence was so pleasant I never wanted to lose it.

I spun in Ilyan’s arms until I faced him, my face burrowing into his chest as he held me. His lips pressed softly onto the top of my head.

I’m scared,
I sent into his mind, my voice quaking as my body did.

His arms tightened around me as the warmth of his magic spread, the hot water warmth soothing my nerves.

Do not be afraid, my love. Know that I will be here
.

My eyes widened at the clarity of the thought that moved into me, Ilyan’s voice echoing inside of my head clear enough that I wasn’t sure if I had just missed his lips move.

I had heard him.

His forehead knit together as he looked at me, obviously concerned about my response. He either didn’t know, or being able to hear him after a Zȇlství was so normal I should have expected it. Except it wasn’t normal. They had told me as much when I spoke into Ilyan’s mind for the first time, and now he was speaking into mine.

“Do not be afraid, my love,” I repeated his words out loud, my voice soft as his eyes widened in shock.

“You heard me?”

I did.

You can hear me?
he asked, the smile on his face spreading as his eyes lit up.

I nodded once and his smile grew, his arms wrapping around me as he pressed me into him, the warmth of our body heat trapped in the heavy blanket we lay under.

You can hear me.

I felt his rapture at this new development, his joy at being able to be so close to me, even if it was only for a precious few moments. His joy filled me and I smiled, letting his warmth run over me as the thunder rumbled, the lightning brightening our room. I let his joy build in me, my body snuggling into his until a loud knock sounded against the door, causing our arms to tighten around each other.

“It’s time, My Lord,” Sain said as his voice drifted toward us, the sound loud and unwanted in my ears.

“Thank you, Sain,” Ilyan called back as he dismissed him.

The warmth of the bed suddenly felt cold and brittle against me.

The air seemed heavy as we lay there, looking between us without seeing, the reality of what we were about to walk into so unwanted that neither of us dared to put voice to it. Ilyan said nothing before his lips pressed against my forehead, the pressure warm and needed before he was gone.

I followed his lead, my legs swinging over the side of the bed as a flash of white filled the room, bringing in the light of day before it was gone and thunder took its place.

The flashes and rumbles were so close together that they sky could barely breathe before the next strike came. I watched them, knowing what they meant, my heart breaking as they came closer. As my time grew shorter. The earth knew what was coming, and she was preparing the way.

I listened to the grinding of wood as Ilyan pulled clothes out of the dresser—the sound almost as loud as the thunder—and still I did not move. I wasn’t in any hurry, anyway. It wasn’t like I had many choices of what to wear anyway. What does one wear to the day they die?

My love,
Ilyan whispered internally as he kneeled down before me, his glistening eyes hooded as they swallowed me whole. He set a small pile of clothes beside me before gathering my hands in his, his magic warming through me as my skin prickled with the touch. While not as strong as it had been in the Tȍuha, it was still more than it had been before the bonding—more than I had ever felt—and I smiled at the contact, even though my heart beat irregularly in fear.

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” Ilyan promised, the impossible words like ash against my soul.

“Please don’t, Ilyan,” I begged, my voice dragging as I looked down to our intertwined hands. I couldn’t hear him say something like this. I couldn’t let the false hope into my heart.

“Don’t say things that you can’t control.”

“I may not be able to guarantee your life, but I will protect you. I promise you this with my very breath.”

I looked up to him. The promise that he would do what he had trained for—what he had been born for—threatened to shatter me into millions of tiny fragments.

“This morning, I hold the hands of my mate in mine. I hold her heart inside of me, and I vow to protect her. To protect you. To keep you safe, and alive, at all costs. I will follow my heart, and keep my mate safe. Because it is right.”

Ilyan repeated the words that I had battled with my father over for the past few days. It was more than that, though. He had made a vow that could very well break the sight, if it hadn’t been broken already. The unspoken support rang through me, the promise of what we could lose, of what we did not want to lose.

What I didn’t want to lose.

I didn’t want to lose the feel of his touch; I didn’t want to lose his smile. I didn’t want to lose the way he had helped me through the biggest trials in my life. I didn’t want to lose him. I just didn’t know if it was possible, not anymore. After last night, after seeing that box and feeling my magic flare with knowledge, I knew. The magic inside of me knew. We couldn’t change it.

No matter what my father had said.

Right then, looking into his eyes, I wanted to change it. I wanted to break the sight and experience an eternity with him, experience life, have the future that the sight told me I could never have. I knew, right then, I would give anything to change it.

I nodded once, not knowing what else to say, as he pressed his lips to my hands.

He said no more. His kiss left as he stood, leaving me alone as he walked into the bathroom, the pile of clothes by my side. I heard the click of the door and stood, stripping off Ilyan’s lightweight pajamas that I had been wearing for what felt like days to replace them with what I recognized at once as what I had worn in the sight.

I pulled on the dark washed jeans Ilyan had brought, almost afraid he would come back before I had the chance to change. The chill of the diamond shocked me as I stripped off my shirt, the necklace cold and hard against my chest. I had forgotten that Ilyan had put it on me. I didn’t know why, but it almost seemed fitting that I would be wearing it when everything ended. I pulled my shirt over the necklace, keeping it under the fabric where it would be safe; where it would stay with me.

The white shirt seemed like a weird choice given the full scale battle I was expected to go into. I didn’t question it, though; I only pulled it over my head, careful not to disrupt the braid, and then pulled as much of the long golden ribbon that trailed through my shirt as I could. I slipped my shoes on and stood in front of the bed, my eyes focused on the wad of fabric that still lay on the comforter as I heard the bathroom door open.

My fingers wrapped around the heavy fabric of the hoodie as I lifted it up. It seemed weird to be holding this in my hands, to be rebelling against putting it on.

I had hidden behind one of these almost my whole life, scared to really find myself, but I
had
found myself. I had cast the hoodies aside, moved beyond them. Even when I was trapped in Cail’s mind as well as after Ilyan had pulled me out, I had never really wanted to hide again. I had merely wanted to become stronger than what haunted me.

I was stronger than it now.

“A hoodie?”

“Yes,” Ilyan said softly as he came up beside me, taking the fabric from my hands.

“I can hear what is on your mind, my love. I can feel your strength, I know that you do not need this.”

“Then why give it to me?”

“Because it is cold outside,” he said as he gathered up the material, ready to help me into it. I pursed my lips as he held it up to me. I knew that wasn’t his only reason. I could hear the secret in his voice, see the caution behind his eyes.

I sighed and lowered my head as he moved the fabric around the braid, careful not to disrupt any of his artwork as he placed the sweater over my head.

“Why else?” I asked as I emerged from the mass of fabric, unsurprised to see the corner of Ilyan’s lips turn up, his eyes still avoiding mine.

“This braid is my gift to you, my Joclyn. It is a piece of my heart and soul, and meant only for you. The hood will help you keep that sacred until the time is right to tell the world.” His eyes ran over the braid before meeting mine, the softness of the blue like a billowing cloud that I found myself getting lost in.

I nodded my head once in understanding, knowing that he was right. Right now, this moment was just between us.

“I will be with you, my love.”

“Until the end,” I whispered as the mischievous light from his eyes seeped into me.

He pulled the braid from the neckline, the long string of golden ribbon sliding up my back as he pulled out the full length. I had thought I had gotten it all when I had changed shirts, but apparently not; the strand stretched all the way to the floor.

I pulled at the long, golden ribbon, the texture soft as it flowed over the palm of my hand, like feathers and wind, the golden surface glinting as it came in contact with my magic.

“That is the délka vedení královského,” Ilyan whispered, his hand moving to run the length of the ribbon right along mine.

“The what?”

“Come here,” Ilyan whispered, his hand wrapping around mine as he led me to the bathroom where the large, ornate mirrors stood above the sink. He turned me around, tilting one of the mirrors enough that I could see the braid that Ilyan had placed in my hair, my jaw dropping in disbelief at what I was seeing.

My hair had been turned into a bouquet of roses. Rose buds of woven hair shot off from the braid, the ribbons winding together to make each delicate flower, and the golden ribbon intertwined through all of them, the string touching every part of the braid he had given me.

“It’s beautiful,” I gasped, knowing that the word was not enough to convey what I truly saw.

“Each flower is my vow to you,” he said, his finger trailing over each one, his fingers soft as if he was touching antique china, which I guess in some ways he was.

“My heart,” he said as he brushed the first rose. “My soul,” he said as his fingers moved to the next one. “My devotion, my life,” he finished as his fingers touched each one before moving to the golden ribbon that moved through my hair so completely I wasn’t sure how he had gotten it into the intricate braid.

“And the délka vedení královského—the length of the royal line. This ribbon is one of two, wound from fibers of gold mined below Prague. It is the sign of your position of power. What you now mean to me and to my people.” His fingers continually moved over the ribbon, his touch so soft I could barely feel it.

“The king and queen are to wear the délka vedení královského every day, and I will bind it in your hair every morning… so that everyone will know,” his arms wrapped around my waist as his fingers left the braid, pulling me against him as our eyes met through the mirror, “that you are my queen. My life.”

My heart thumped wildly in my chest at the thought as the deep reality of what had happened hit me. Queen. The thought was like ice and adrenaline, the combination sending my heart into palpitations so fast that I was sure Ilyan would notice.

I stared at him through the mirror, the light in his eyes calming me as the love I felt for him flared.

I had bound myself to Ilyan, and I would do it again because I loved him. I had not bound myself to his title, however, his title was an integral part of him, and I loved that side of him as much as I loved the side that he only showed to me. I would take this on me because it was worth it, because he was worth it. Because I loved him.

“Where is yours?” I asked, my voice shaking as the last of my anxiety left me. “Your délka vedení královskéh,” I said, knowing I messed up the pronunciation somehow.