Imdalind 01 - Kiss of Fire

voice weighed down with the deep emotion of the million times he had tried to tell me.
    I couldn’t move; I couldn’t breathe. My heart caught in my chest as his eyes continued to search mine. They were so full of passion, of conviction, of love. I felt tears build beneath my lids as I looked at him, so overwhelmed at what he had just said.
    “Oh, Jos, don’t cry, sweetheart.” He reached up and wiped away a rogue tear that slowly trailed down my face. His finger trailed up the right side of my jaw, moving toward the mark. My body tensed for just a moment before I cast it away. He had told me he loved me; what did one cursed scar matter?
    And then - his finger made contact with the raised mark.
    It felt like a thousand volts shot through my body. I gasped in surprise at the sensation, shock whipping through me. My vision went white as the jolt encompassed me, my back arching in surprise or pain; I didn’t know which. The electricity had gone as soon as it had come and my vision refocused on Ryland, but he didn’t have the same look in his eyes as before.
    He was terrified.
    His body had tensed around me, his arms tightening as his eyes darted around the room. He stood up, taking my body with him, keeping me plastered against him.
    “No,” he moaned, and his voice sounded like an agonizing sob.
    “No!” His yell of pain and fear echoed around the room as he tilted my head to the right side, his hands jerking my hair aside to reveal the mark.
    “No,” he repeated, but this time his voice strained into a sob. He lowered his head to mine and pressed his lips to the brand, a smaller shock moving through me at his touch. He stayed like that, with his rigid arms surrounding me, his tender lips against my mark.
    “I’m sorry.” My voice was panicked. His reaction was so unexpected and fearful; I felt my body begin to shake.
    “How long have you had the mark, Joclyn?” he demanded.
    My body froze; my heart dropped. I wanted to kick and scream and hurt something. Why did this mark always have to ruin my life?
    “Joclyn!” Ryland yelled in a panic. “How long?” He released my body and moved me away from him, his eyes meeting mine with the terrified look they held earlier.
    “Since… since I was five,” I whispered, my voice catching.
    “You have hid it all this time?” He didn’t wait for an answer; he just crushed me to him again. “Oh, Joclyn, my love.”
    My love? Wasn’t he mad, angry? Wasn’t he going to cast me away?
    He crushed me to him even further before releasing me, placing me at arm’s length away from him. His hands held me in place, leaving me nowhere to look but right at him.
    “You’re the one. The one they have been looking for. And you were here… no! They have seen it by now.”
    “Seen it?” I asked, my confusion growing.
    “The cameras Joclyn, they watch me all the time. You have to get out of here.”
    And there it was. My heart sank to my knees and the tears started flowing.
    “Leave? Ryland, why? It’s just a mark – it’s nothing. Please say it’s nothing,” I begged him, my hand clenching the front of his shirt in desperation.
    “Oh, Joclyn, the mark means everything.”
    “Why? I don’t want it. All it has done is ruin my life! I don’t want to leave!” I screamed, my emotions and fear blending together in a boiling pot.
    “If you don’t go, they will kill you.”
    Wait. Kill. Was he serious? His terror started to seep into me, and as I watched his face, my anger melted into confusion.
    “Ryland, what’s going on? I don’t understand.”
    Ryland pressed his forehead to mine, his eyes closed in agony.
    “I don’t know how to make you understand…” The blue of his eyes pierced me right through as he looked to something beyond me. His eyes darkened with a heavy determination I wasn’t aware he possessed. “They are coming.”
    “Listen very carefully, Joclyn. My father is coming, and if he finds you, he will kill you. I will head them off as long as I can, but you must run.” He kept his head pressed against mine as he spoke, his words tumbling over each other.
    “Your father?”
    “Take my car and go straight to your mother. Take her and go… go to Ilyan.”
    “Ilyan?” I asked. Why were we talking about Wyn’s brother now? What did he have to do with any of this?
    “He is tall, has blonde hair and speaks with an accent, correct?”
    I could only nod in surprise; how did he know?
    “Go to him; show him the mark; he will protect