Scorched Treachery (29 page)

“Safer than Ovailia is at this point.”

Thom’s gaze darted away from our siblings, his eyes narrowing at my words, almost daring me to say what he wanted to hear.

“I need you to watch her.”

“You need me to watch Ovailia
and
heal Dramin...”

I sighed and straightened my back. Thom had put into words exactly how terrible our situation was. I had foolishly thought that Joclyn’s awakening would solve all of our problems, but now, somehow, she had only increased them.

“Ano,” I said simply, knowing I was already asking too much of him. He only looked at me, nodding once in understanding, his own stress staring right back at me.

“Take him to his room, Thom. I’ll be there shortly.”

I stood as Thom carried Dramin’s body out the door, the knot in my heart relaxing. Dramin would be okay if the spark of his magic stayed strong. But I wasn’t sure what Joclyn had hit him with, so I wasn’t sure if what I had done was enough.

I turned to the others, unsurprised to see Ryland hovering over Joclyn. I could feel Ryland’s magic inside of her, I could feel the foreign power infusing her through the edge of the Štít.

Ryland’s voice filled the air around us, the English words sounding out of place as he whispered to her. I could still feel Ryland’s magic right around the edges of my own, making it clear he was still there. I dutifully kept mine on the other side of the Štít, even though keeping it there was a physical pain to me now.

“He will live.” I spoke more to myself than to the room, needing to hear the words for my own benefit.

“Honestly, I was surprised to see him remotely alive in the first place.” Ovailia’s voice was high and filled with fury.

I had known I couldn’t avoid this confrontation for long. Instead of walking into the ruins of Rioseco to find just Joclyn and I, Ovailia had found two others – both of which she had thought to be dead. Thom and Dramin, one her brother and the other the son of her former mate.

Our eyes met and I refused to pull away, the intensity of our stares grew as each second passed. Given where she had just come from, this conversation could easily be used to my advantage – something I definitely needed in this game of cat and mouse that my father had set up.

I carefully fisted the burn on my hand, keeping it out of sight. Ovailia had laid her cards in front of me. I needed to play mine right
, if I was going to get us out of this then everything to do with the Black Water needed to stay hidden for my round to play out properly. Joclyn being a Drak was our greatest asset at this point, it was not information I would ever willingly hand over to Ovailia. Each of us continued to weigh our options as we danced around each other in a silent tango.

“Is she alive?” Ryland’s accusatory voice was barely louder than a whisper but it broke the tension between Ovailia and me.

“Yes, I just put her to sleep,” I answered quickly, not able to focus on Ryland’s misplaced worry.

“Why isn’t she waking up, Ilyan?” Ryland’s panicked voice cut through the silence as he shook her shoulders.

I turned toward him, my frustration flaring at his questions. Had he not noticed what had just happened? Did he not care that the man who had saved him was fighting for his life?

I brushed my irritation at his selfishness away. His hands were wrapped around hers as he whispered to her. I thought I had been prepared for this sight, but I was surprised by the uncomfortable thunk that sounded deep within my ironclad heart. I dutifully ignored it, instead moving toward them with my back straight and stoic
, in my usual way.

“I am keeping her asleep, Ryland.”

“Wake her up!” he demanded, his desperation making him edgy. “I need to see her.”

Ryland ran his hand over her hair, his fingers touching the skin of her face as he looked at me, waiting for me to act.

“I am not sure that is wise.” Ryland’s eyes widened at my response, my curiosity at his odd behavior peaking. “She just tried to kill you, Ryland.”

He looked at me for only a minute before looking away, moving down to place his forehead against hers. I felt the pressure against my own head, and shook it off, surprised the bridge was still there even though I no longer had contact with her.

“She didn’t mean it.” Ryland’s voice was heavy and low, his words spoken more to Joclyn than to me.

I looked toward Ovailia, expecting to receive some support, but she only looked back with a wicked gleam in her eye that I had only seen once before. The shine in her eyes prickled at my better judgment in warning.

“She woke up only a moment before you came in...”

“I know,” Ryland interrupted me. “Thom told us she was sleeping before. She was just confused. She didn’t know she had woken up. I need to tell her she is
all right, Ilyan. Please. Let me do that.”

I felt my protective instinct flare at his words, the desire to push him away from her strong and growing. “Why would she have need to attack you in a Tȍuha, Ryland?”

His eyes widened, they drifted from Ovailia to me uncomfortably, as if he was unsure what to say or how much he was allowed to reveal. The gesture made me wary, my fear rising quickly within me. I had always counted on Ryland standing with me. He had gone out of his way multiple times to save me, to save Joclyn. He knew what her purpose was in this life, and yet I could see the doubt in his eyes when he looked at me. He doubted that he could trust me, that I was telling the truth. The look triggered my own doubts about the situation, and I looked toward Ovailia, my eyes hardening.

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.

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.

T
hen 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.

It wasn’t really Ryland. I
t was a close enough likeness that even Joclyn had been fooled, but it was just a projection. A projection of Ryland that Cail had placed inside her mind to hurt her, to torture her, so that in the event she did escape, she would only be a weapon against him.

To be killed by your own mate; it was my father’s sickest form of torture.

I replayed the memories as I dissected the words that were spoken, the way Cail yelled for Wynifred with his dying breath. Guilt filled me that I had not been able to keep my side of his bargain. A secret for a life, and he had lost his life anyway. I hoped Wyn was all right.

I replayed the way Cail led Joclyn through the maze of his mind. Looking at it like this, I was able to relate every injury to an action, the connections only fueling my anger.

Anger bubbled up inside me like oil left too long in a pan, slow and smothering. I wasn’t mad at Cail for what he had done. I wasn’t even mad at Ryland for not getting her out in time. I was mad at myself for not protecting her, not demanding that the bond be broken before this could have happened.

I should have kept her safe, broken the bond when I had the chance, and protected her mind from the terrors that had changed her. But I didn’t.

How could I have known what would happen? I could only assume what I felt ring true in Joclyn’s heart: that Ryland was alive and soon they would be back together.

I wanted that for her.

My choice to give her the joy of her first love had only led to a terror I could never fathom.

I shook my head and continued down the halls, back toward my suite, back to where Joclyn still lay. My magic surged through her keeping her asleep until I could return.

With no one extra on hand to watch her, I had left her alone, the door sealed, while I checked on Dramin. His room was bare except for mug after mug of Black Water. His body was still and cold as if death was unwilling to let him go. That’s what I had thought when I first walked in – that he was dead. His magic was still strong inside of him after the restart, but everything else had seemed to shut down.

“Ilyan?”

I jumped at Ryland’s voice, my body swinging around to face him. No one had snuck up on me in centuries. I could always feel everyone’s magical impulses as they moved toward me, I could hear their breathing in my ears, and yet Ryland stood in front of me, nothing flowing off him, not a wave or a whisper. I had felt the deep green waves of Ryland’s energy before, when he had released me from my father’s torture chamber as a child and when I had seen him with Joclyn. Now, nothing was there.

“Yes?” My eyes narrowed in confusion, my magic surging toward him as I tried to figure out how he was restraining his magic to the point that I could not sense him.

“I...I thought you would come get me by now.” I arched an eyebrow at him, not following.

“To see Joclyn.”

Ah yes, I should have known. It was wrong of me to keep him from her, but I worried. Worried what he would do to her and worried what she would do to him.

“It’s not safe, Ryland, not yet.” I kept my voice soft, hoping to speak with him like a brother, not a ruler.

“I can decide what is safe,” Ryland snarled as he squared his strong shoulders. So much for a calm talk between brothers. I kept my posture straight, while still trying to maintain my calm façade. I couldn’t be the only levelheaded one around here, could I?

“She tried to kill you, Ryland. That has not changed. When Cail trapped her in his mind, he used a projection of you to torture her. Right now, she doesn’t see the difference.”

Ryland’s eyes widened as I spoke, the distrust showing in the furrowed lines of his forehead. I couldn’t help the deep sigh that escaped me. Ovailia had already set her framework; getting him to see things differently was going to be difficult.

“She doesn’t see the difference because you won’t let her.” Ryland’s voice was deep and angry.

“That’s not true, Ryland.” I planted my feet as he began to pace, his agitated movements alerting me to the fact that something much darker was dwelling within him.

“Ry?” He spun at my voice, as if he had forgotten I was there. His eyes widened in anger, and his hands began to shake, even though he had stopped pacing.

“Don’t call me that.” I stepped back on instinct, the snarl in his voice and the absence of his energy keeping me on high alert.

“Only Jos can call me that. She’s the only one....”

His fingers continued to flex as he spoke, his hands lifting to circle his head in agitation, his fingers glowing with power as his eyes darkened – and still I couldn’t read him.

“All right,” I said slowly, hoping to alleviate the pressure that was obviously building inside of him. “I didn’t know that Ryland. I won’t do it again.”

“She’s all I have. I... she’s mine.” He snarled the last statement again, his hands continuing to open and close as his anger fueled his power.

I watched him for a moment, trying to get any kind of a read
off him. Nothing triggered, nothing changed. He was obviously completely infused with his magic, but still I felt nothing.

“I know that Ryland. She knows that. She risked everything to see you. Even when the dreams hurt, when the Tȍuha...”

“Then don’t keep her from me!” I flinched at his words as his pacing returned, the agitated movements increasing in his arms.

I had to remind myself that he had only been released from his Vymȁzat a week ago. If his horrors were anything like what Joclyn had been forced to endure, then he had made amazing progress.

“I’m not keeping her from you, Ryland. She is scared of you. She wants to kill you. I am protecting you from her, as well as protecting her.” I watched him as he moved, keeping my body still and my voice level in an effort to keep him calm.

“I don’t believe you.” He didn’t even look at me as he paced, his eyes darting anywhere but at me.

“I would never lie to you, Ryland, you are my brother. You released me from our father’s imprisonment. You saved my life. Now it is just my turn to return the favor.”

“You don’t know what he did to us!” he yelled, the palm of his hand moving to smack against his head in frustration.

I could already tell there would be no controlling Ryland’s anger. It was too new. He reminded me of Thom when I had first met him, how the anger had been all that he had, what he held onto. It took Thom time, and Sain’s guidance, to see how wrong that anger could be. I needed to get Ryland past it faster than Thom though. I needed him to see what he still had before it was all taken away by our father’s games.

Ovailia had obviously led him to believe that I was keeping Joclyn from him. He needed to see that I hadn’t taken her away from him. That I had no intention of holding them apart.

“I may not know what he did to you, but I know what he did to Joclyn,” I whispered, my voice just loud enough to freeze him in place.

“He hurt her.”

“Yes. In every nightmare. You were there, weren’t you?” He only nodded; I tried to ignore the surge of pride at my lucky guess. “He hurt you too.”

It was a statement. Ryland looked up at me, his eyes calming as his breathing regulated. The moment his eyes met mine, I felt it. It was weak and only there for a moment, but his magic surged through the air before retreating again. I couldn’t help but smile; I was calming him.
I smiled and wondered at the fact that he could control himself so much, that he could hide all of his power from my detection.

“They used me to hurt her.” I visibly flinched at Ryland’s words, at the way he clenched his chest as if the pain of the blood magic was still fresh on his mind. “I didn’t want to. But when I fought them, when I warned her… Hurt Me!” His last words flew out in an angry rush, the disjointed nature of them alarming.

“I know.”

“Hurt…hurt…
hurt…,” he repeated before hitting himself hard against the head with his palm again. As quick as it started, the deranged anger on his face left as he looked at me.

“I don’t want to hurt her,” he whispered. I nodded to him once, afraid of what speaking may bring out next. Ryland’s hand moved to clench over his chest again, his eyes drifting back to me.

I didn’t know how much Ryland remembered of the Vymȁzat, or how much of what had been done was his own choice, but one thing was clear. He had suffered as much, if not more, than the rest of Edmund’s children. If only for that, he deserved my patience.

“It wasn’t your fault, Ryland. He has done it to all of us.” I moved toward him slowly, keeping my voice level.

I needed Ryland on my side, I needed to regain the trust he had lost in me. Ovailia had moved him into position as a pawn. But he wasn’t a pawn; he was a person. My brother. He was someone I cared for. If I could save him, I would.

“Everyone?” Ryland looked up at me from beneath his long bangs, the wicked gleam back in his eyes. I don’t know what was said to trigger his anger, but with one statement, we were right back where we began.

Fine. If he wanted to be angry, I would let him. I would not, however, let his foolish emotion affect me or my choices. If it were to be anything, it would be the other way around.

My skin prickled the way it always did in anticipation of battle, my magic surging as I smiled. I knew the wicked gleam was back in my eyes. I didn’t try to hide it
; I let it shine. I let the power behind my eyes move into my brother. He stepped back. Not a lot, but just enough to convey that the look in my eyes had done its job.

“Yes, Ryland, everyone. Most everyone has died at his hands, Zetta was killed at birth because of her brown eyes. Sylas was forcibly mated only to be killed when he never produced an heir. Mym tortured all her young life, turned into a five year old weapon. She never knew love until I rescued her, but even then she struggled. How can you
learn to recognize love if you’ve never felt it? Thom watched as his daughter was tortured and murdered at the hands of our father. He used to smear her blood on his face.”

“Thom?” Ryland asked, the timber of his voice changing to one of sickened pity. Had no one told him yet? Had he not placed it together?

“Yes, Thom. He is your brother too. Only the four of us remain. Some have escaped the horrors, others let them engulf them, and they are turned into heartless monsters. Joclyn fights her horrors every day, what will you do?”