Eyes of Ember (Imdalind Series #2)

“Everything?” Before, Ilyan had only taught me the basics and it had ended badly for everyone.

“Yes, Siln?. This time you need to know everything. I had hoped that by bringing you two together I would be able to unlock your true ability. That’s why I taught you so little. I wanted to see what you could do, and it was very foolish of me. But now, Ryland has lost his memories of you and become his Father’s puppet. He is now only a weapon at Edmund’s disposal. Ryland as he is now will stop at nothing to hunt you down and kill you Joclyn. If you wish to be the one to avenge your mate, you must prepare.”

I nodded once and attempted to cast aside the last of my self-pity, my pain, and heartbreak. Though it didn’t leave, it became another fragment of the broken person I had become.

Ilyan squared his jaw and stood to face me, his hand extended toward me.

“Then come, it’s time to begin.”

I widened my eyes. He didn’t mean now, did he? But it was obvious he did. His jaw was clenched and his eyes held that maniacal power I had seen in him so many times before.

I breathed deeply, preparing myself before I took his hand. Ilyan pulled me to standing, my joints swelling in subtle pain as I moved. I stood facing him defying the pain of my long-inactive body. I had been standing for a moment before I knew something was wrong. My head swam and my body felt like it was turning on the spot, my balance leaving with the crazy motion. I shifted sideways as my body fell, Ilyan’s arms reaching out to catch me just in time.

“Are you alright?” Ilyan asked. The alarm in his voice surprised me. I nodded my head, the room spinning less and less.

“You haven’t stood in a few days; I suppose it is to be expected.” His voice was low, as if even he didn’t believe his words. His grip on my elbow tightened a bit as we began to move, obviously worried I would fall again.

He looked at me, his forehead crinkled, before grabbing one of the half-filled glasses of water that he had been forcing me to drink from for days.

After I drank, Ilyan walked me toward the small bathroom. I looked behind me reluctantly; the small double bed was pushed up against the side wall and the bathroom wall. A sliding glass door was at the foot of the bed and the tiny kitchen was on the other wall. The only floor space to speak of was between the bed and kitchen, but most of that was taken up by Ilyan’s makeshift bed.

It was a tissue box that someone had mistaken for a studio apartment. The idea of spending any amount of time in this claustrophobic space was nauseating; sharing it with another person was terrifying.

“I want you to take a shower. There are clothes in the bathroom for you.”

Sitting on the counter in the bathroom was a small pile of clothes, including a black hoodie I had never seen before.

“Where is Ryland’s hoodie?” I asked, unsurprised by my alarm.

“It’s gone, Joclyn. When we failed, many of our number fled to the Motel. They were followed. Anything that was left there was destroyed out of necessity.”

My heart sunk and my head swam again, Ilyan’s hold on my elbow increased as my body swayed to one side.

“Maybe now is not the time for a shower,” he said.

I looked down. My shirt was scraps of fabric and my stomach was covered by dried blood and ash. My mind flashed back to memories of that night; to Ryland digging a tiny blade into my chest. I swallowed hard, willing the tears to stay away.

“Now is fine,” I said.

“Good, but first...”

Ilyan placed his hand against my face, his eyes boring into mine as he pushed his magic into me. I wondered what he was doing, but he only smiled at me, his blue eyes twinkling. My head began to prickle as his magic congregated there, causing my hair to grow back to how it was before.

Ilyan removed his hand and his magic left me. I turned to look at myself in the mirror. Dark black make-up was smeared all over my face, my bright silver eyes twinkling among the smudges, but my hair was black, straight, and long again – maybe even a bit longer than it had been originally.

“Thank you.”

“Of course,” he said as he turned on the steaming water before moving toward the door. “Enjoy your shower. I’ll have a surprise waiting for you when you get out.”

The door clicked shut behind him. I didn’t look at it for long before turning toward the sink that I leaned against. My reflection was staring at me through the mirror, my mouth opening in shock at the haggard face that looked back. All my battle wounds were still visible and much of my body was covered with dried blood. I ripped off what was left of my shirt and followed the trail of dried blood up to a small scar that now lay over my heart.