Black Crown (The Darkest Drae Book 3)

by Kelly St Clare

  Lani spoke, “I must go back to Phaetynville.”

  I hadn’t the heart to tell her Phaetynville wasn’t actually what the Phaetyn called their home in the Zivost forest. I’d need to clear that up before she left.

  “Yes, I agree,” I said. If that was the only decision to make, maybe this wouldn’t be as difficult as I—

  “We left the Phaetyn in the midst of turmoil,” Dyter said, leaning forward over the table, meeting each of our gazes in turn. “Kamoi and Kamini planned to restore peace to the forest, but we have no confirmation that has occurred.”

  “It would be foolish to send Lani into questionable conditions and hope for the best,” King Zakai added.

  Dyter nodded.

  Umm . . . Right. I sat back. I really hadn’t thought about that, but he was correct. My stomach twisted as I thought of the night we’d left Zivost. What if Lani went back only to encounter resistance? She really didn’t know anyone there. Yes, the Phaetyn child-adult was Kamini’s elder sibling and possessed ancestral powers the rest of her kind desperately needed to restore their defences against the emperor. But the Phaetyn hadn’t exactly been the accepting, peace-loving, prancing people I’d envisioned. Last I’d seen, they’d been shoving blades dipped in Drae blood into each other.

  I wasn’t letting Lani go into that alone. “I’ll go with her.”

  “No,” Tyrrik said flatly, all traces of humor gone. “You will not.”

  My M-word often said no to things, lots of things, really. I decided then and there to translate the word as yes from now on. I said to Lani, “Great, so when do we leave?”

  Tyrrik stood, his chair grating on the stone floor. Towering over me, he growled, “Whenever you transform into a Drae, the emperor gets a reading on your location. You’re not going back to Zivost.”

  “General location,” I corrected. “And I am going.”

  “We killed his Druman. Do you think Draedyn is stupid?” Tyrrik asked the table though I knew the words were directed my way. “Over a hundred of his Druman are dead in the last few weeks. Some in Verald, some outside of the Phaetyn forest, and then a whole hoard of them right outside of Gemond. Do you think he hasn’t put two and two together? If Irdelron knew a rebellion was afoot before he died, do you think the emperor has somehow missed the signs of his starving and embittered Realm gathering to revolt? Even if Draedyn did, there aren’t many creatures that can slaughter dozens of Druman at one time. There’s only one.”

  Tyrrik had a point, but that didn’t change the fact we’d need the Phaetyn later. And the best chance of us uniting them sat right next to us. “The likelihood of our success against Draedyn is best with the Phaetyn. If Lani goes by foot, the trip will take her weeks. Weeks that she’ll be vulnerable.” I hastily shot her a look. “I mean don’t get me wrong; your trick of shooting roots through people is great, but you were in big trouble when we met.”

  “No offense taken,” she said, her violet eyes twinkling.

  I admired her sense of humor. Little eight-year-old girl-adult laughing at the two Drae arguing. But this wasn’t really funny, and I wondered if anyone had pointed out the obvious, like plebe-brilliant who stood by the door. I turned to Lani, but the questions were to make a point. “Would you be able to harm your own people if they attacked you? Could you escape if dozens of Druman found you again?”

  “I’ll go then,” Tyrrik said in a menacing voice. “If we need to get her there safely, I can do that. With relish.”

  You just proved why you shouldn’t go. This isn’t a revenge mission. The Phaetyn hadn’t exactly treated him kindly when we were there. They’d sliced him with knives while he was injured to get his blood to use on weapons. Tyrrik might be still nursing a grudge. I’d be nursing a grudge except I’d already squashed the Phaetyn responsible.

  Of course, Lani had the courage to disagree out loud. “I think it unwise, Lord Tyrrik. Drae are our natural enemy, and while you are not my enemy, the rest of the Phaetyn have not yet seen you as an ally. Since I will be appearing to them as a stranger and asking to be Queen, I’m not sure showing up with you by my side will endear them to listen. Even having Ryn there will present challenges.”

  I was certain we’d be fine as long as Kamoi and Kamini were in charge.

  “It has to be Ryn,” Dyter said with a grim face, and quickly added, “Just Ryn.”

  Tyrrik exploded. “You’d have her go out there alone? After everything? Are you insane?”

  Kudos to Dyter. Though he paled significantly in the face of Tyrrik’s snapping anger, he didn’t back down. “No, Lord Tyrrik,” he said softly. “It is because of what she’s been through that I know she’ll be okay.”

  I stood and rested a hand on Tyrrik’s arm. He tensed under my grip, and his pulse feathered in his neck, but he didn’t otherwise acknowledge me. I could feel his anger and underneath it, his fear.

  “Tyrrik could come with me.” I glanced around the table. Zakai and his son were halfway between sitting and rising, their eyes frozen on the Drae beside me. “He can wait outside the forest until we’re done.”

  “You’d be giving Draedyn the perfect opportunity to ensure Gemond can’t join the rebels,” Dyter said, shaking his head. “The emperor must know there are two Drae by now and probably that you’re both in Gemond. When his Druman confirm both Drae have left the kingdom—because you know there are more out there—I can’t see why he’d hesitate to attack us.”

  “Then how are you proposing Ryn gets away safely?” Tyrrik snapped, a dark undercurrent to his words. “They’re still going to see her.”

  The king straightened, looking much healthier now than he had a week ago, but it was his son, Prince Zarad, who said, “Decoy.”

  “Decoy?” Lani repeated, silver brows drawn as she looked from the father to the son.

  “That is how we’ve evaded the emperor’s Druman in the past,” King Zakai explained. “Some of us pop out on one side of the mountain range, intentionally being spotted by Druman. The Druman follow them, and a few usually split off to report our movements to the emperor. While on the other side of the mountain range, our real traveling party sneaks off, undetected.”

  “My father is proposing Tyrrik stay here as a decoy to fool the Druman when Ryn leaves. His continued presence in Gemond will also discourage the emperor from attacking us,” the prince interjected softly, flicking a look at his father. The Gemondian was around my age, maybe a few years older. Short and stocky, like most of the mining people here, and kind like his father.

  Perhaps, once the young man got used to my unique sense of humor and stopped being nervous around me, we might be friends.

  Tyrrik still stood, leaning over the table. He gripped the edges, the exposed muscles of his arms coiled and tight though his unfocused gaze was fixed on the stone table. “He’ll feel her when she transforms remember.”

  “Yes, but you pose the greater threat to the emperor,” Lani put in, already nodding.

  The Drae released the table and curled his fists. “Ryn is the greater prize. She is a female Drae and his daughter. The emperor will go to great lengths to secure her.”

  King Zakai smiled at the Phaetyn who seemed unperturbed by Tyrrik’s anger. If she could feel how near to the boiling point he was, she may not be so calm.

  Tyrrik, I thought at him. It will be fine. It takes one-and-a-half days to fly to the forest. If you go out and distract the Druman, they won’t follow. If Kamoi and Kamini have resolved the Phaetyn war, getting Lani settled won’t take long. If they don’t accept her, I’ll bring her back. I’ll be returning in four or five days, either way.

  Ryn, I don’t know if I’m physically capable of letting you go.

  Well that stumped me. I understood his qualms. I didn’t completely relish the idea of trying to stretch the bond that much. If being apart from him within the confines of Gemond was uncomfortable, I wasn’t sure how I’d manage being a two weeks’ walk away. One-and-a-half days’ flight, I reminded us both.

  H
e’d turned to me, and the others continued their conversation while Tyrrik and I discussed the matter separately.

  If we cannot bear it, we’ll only be the better part of a day from seeing each other if we leave at the same time. I paused, knowing this was where my reason would help overcome his instinct. This wasn’t only our best option; it was our only option, which meant we had to make it work. Doing my best to lighten the mood, I quipped, Although, I’m faster, so we’d meet a little closer to you, like maybe sixty-forty.

  He narrowed his eyes as he appraised me. Sixty-forty? You think you’re that fast?

  Didn’t you hear what King Zakai called me when we arrived? I teased with a smirk.

  Tyrrik sat down again, and we looked into each other’s eyes. The conversation dwindled to a murmur around us.

  You said if we cannot bear it, Tyrrik thought. Did you mean it?

  What if I did say we? I held my breath for his answer, unsure what I wanted him to say in response.

  “I hate it when they do this,” Dyter muttered, covering his eyes with his sole arm.

  I would not survive if anything happened to you, Tyrrik thought.

  I swallowed as the bond between us began to pulse, glowing brighter than the sun, and I was inordinately glad no one else could see it. Because judging by the heat deep in my stomach, the bond connected to a certain part of my anatomy.

  I blushed and broke Tyrrik’s gaze. I’ll be careful, but we need the Phaetyn. They’ll be healing all the humans, and you saw Lani fighting. I need to do this. It’ll be worth the risk.

  Nothing is worth risking you.

  Yeah, well, you’re probably biased, I grumbled. He leaned closer, and my breath hitched.

  That’s because you’re mine, he thought, and I blinked at the vibrating conviction behind his words. There was nothing he believed in more. Nothing in the world could shake his certainty that he was mine and I was his.

  Tyrrik had accepted the bond wholeheartedly. Even before he knew me, he risked a lot to keep me alive in Irdelron’s dungeons. Since our bond intensified, Tyrrik had flung the doors to his mind wide open even after confessing he feared what I’d find. His instincts had shown him we were mates, and that was enough for him.

  I was sure about Tyrrik; really, I was. I just wanted to know him better before I gave everything to him. When my body was a broken mess, my mind had somehow survived, not unmarked, but it survived. I didn’t worry what he’d find would scare him off; I had nothing to hide. But letting him have my soul, mind, and body just because instinct told me so? I’d pushed my Drae energy into him, knowing we’d be bound tighter. I knew letting him in my mind completely, letting my instincts take over, would bind us tighter again. I wanted to be sure I’d thought it all through before granting him unfettered access.

  Will we still be able to talk like this? I asked. Even when I’m in the forest?

  Yes, that will not diminish with distance. That will be my condition. If you are to go to Zivost without me, I’d like to be allowed to check up on you whenever I want.

  I dipped my head as I acquiesced. Understandable. Reasonable even. I accept your condition.

  Actually, his stipulation might give me exactly what I was looking for, a way to get to know Tyrrik without his proximity turning me into a donkey who had headbutted the stable door too many times.

  Tyrrik broke off our stare, and I sagged forward as though released from a physical grip.

  “Ryn will accompany Lani to the forest, and I’ll act as a decoy. The duration of their visit is to be no longer than five days—"

  My head shot up. Five days. That was more of a passing remark than a hard clause in our separation contract.

  “—and if Ryn is in danger, I will leave this place immediately and get her.” He stared down Lani. “And burn down your forest.”

  I gasped. “Tyrrik!”

  Lani met his gaze. With an equally serious expression and tone, she answered, “Lord Drae, if the Phaetyn are so far gone as to put Ryn in any danger, you have my blessing to destroy them all.”

  3

  “You fear becoming dependent. You think dependency makes you weak.”

  We sat in our room on his bed talking. I was supposed to be packing, and when he offered to help, I’d hoped that was code for kissing. But no. Instead, Tyrrik did this. Talking.

  I rolled my eyes at his comment. He used to call me out in a subtle way: a look, a veiled comment. Now, he just came right out with it. I hated it. I hated that he was right even more.

  And why did we need to talk about my feelings—I’d much prefer to discuss a random stranger’s. “Aren’t men supposed to not like chinwags? I’m sure there’s a book on that. Why are you mushy inside?”

  Tyrrik raised his brow. “I had a lot of time on my hands. I spent a fair amount of it studying humans’ behavior.”

  “I’m not human,” I said, crossing my arms.

  Tyrrik chuckled, a low sound that rumbled in his chest and bounced around in my head before settling in the deep cavity underneath the left side of my ribs, which I strongly suspected was my heart. Or possibly a terminal disease.

  “You were raised to think like a human. Like a mortal. That is part of why you’re having a hard time with accepting the mate-bond even though you carry my mate mark on your neck.”

  I froze, blinking at him before remembering to keep up my cool facade. There he went with the M-word again. And the double M-word. I had a small onyx mark on the side of my neck where Tyrrik first touched me. It showed up after I’d accepted him as my mate a week ago when we saved Lani. Like I belonged to him.

  “Think of our sister moons,” he said. “What is the purpose of our moons?”

  Was this a lesson? I shrugged. “They light up the night.”

  Surprisingly, Tyrrik nodded at my answer. “Does the brightness of one moon take away from the other?”

  “No.” This was stupid. “I see where you’re going. But we’re not sisters, and we’re not moons.” He needed to get better examples if we were going to be a M-thing.

  “You’re right; we’re Drae, and we are mates. Being mates does not make either of us less than we were. It just is.”

  Ouch. The cavity under my ribs panged again. I thought I’d been doing the whole mate thing pretty well. At least well enough that Tyrrik didn’t suspect my lingering fears. Clearly, I’d failed.

  His face softened. “When you’re in Zivost, please keep yourself safe. It is painful to my heart and mind for us to be apart, but if this is what you need to appreciate what being a mate means, I will do it. For you, not because those pointy-eared idiots need a leader.”

  That terminal disease spot in my chest panged again. Maybe there was something wrong with me. I wasn’t sure what to say, so I peered around the chamber I shared with Dyter and Tyrrik, hoping the Drae would break the heavy silence.

  I wanted this; I needed the time and space away from Tyrrik, enough so that I knew what I felt for him wasn’t just attraction or instinct or the mate bond or whatever. I wanted my heart, my head, and my body to be on the same page because I chose it, not because of a black mark on my neck.

  Deciding to grow a pair of potatoes, I forced my eyes to meet his. Tyrrik studied my face as though memorizing every curve, and then leaned forward, brushing his lips against mine. His scent swirled around me, smoke and pine, just long enough to make my head spin before he pulled away.

  That’s it? I threw his way. I’m going away for days, and you’re going to give me a little peck? I thought you said I meant something to you.

  This time, I met him halfway, scooting closer when our lips met. My mouth melded against his, and I sighed, clutching his shoulders.

  The bed covers bunched between us, and I growled, swiping them aside to crawl onto my knees and bring us closer still.

  Tyrrik’s lips were firm and warm. No one else knew that but me. Everyone else thought he was cold and hard, but I knew better. When his arm circled my waist to pull me closer, I grinned, peeking up
at him as I bit my lip. He nipped at the spot when I released it, and I opened my mouth to him again. His tongue brushed and then tangled with mine, tasting of the sweetest nectar. His heat seemed to stroke me, luring me flush against him. The colors bouncing in the gem-encrusted room were augmented by the glow of our bond. The air around us crackled, and the steady smoulder in my belly exploded into something far more frantic. Tyrrik pulled me onto his lap, and I circled my arms around his neck, running my fingers through his midnight hair. My midnight.

  Tyrrik’s hands dropped to my waist, and I sucked in a breath, my hands twisting in his aketon. Heat and passion swirled between us. Right now, I couldn’t feel what was mine and what was his.

  I love you, Ryn.

  His words hit my heart. The rawness within them brought me back to reality with a resounding boom. That was why I was going. I wanted to be able to say those words to him. I wanted to be able to assure him that I felt as strongly for him as he did for me, but I wouldn’t say the words until I was absolutely certain of their truth.

  Want and need were not the same thing.

  A knock at the door interrupted us, and Tyrrik groaned as I scrambled off his lap.

  “You’re not the one who could be caught by your pretty-much dad,” I reminded him then winced and said, “Again.”

  “I need to see Ryn,” Lani said in her child-like voice, but the undercurrent tone wasn’t childlike at all. “We need to practice something before we leave.”

  Lovely.

  “She’s busy,” Tyrrik drawled, tugging on the hem of my aketon.

  “Too busy to learn how to project a shield that will hide us from everyone but other Phaetyn?” Lani asked.

  Tyrrik’s eyes narrowed.

  Point one to Lani. I bounced off the bed, patting my hair and adjusting my aketon as I walked toward the door. My lower lip felt distinctly swollen, and I could still taste nectar on my tongue. I hadn’t felt so sheepish since hiding from Mum when I was six to drink a whole jar of honey syrup. Or maybe getting caught by Dyter.