Black Crown (The Darkest Drae Book 3)

by Kelly St Clare

  Lani stayed put on my back. “I don’t know. I’m pretty comfortable.”

  “Off.” An unsettling feeling tugged beneath my ribs, and I grimaced. Tyrrik hadn’t been kidding when he said I’d miss him. The separation was not pleasant. The nagging sensation set me further on edge, and I clamped my arms to my sides to keep from extraditing the little queen.

  The Phaetyn snorted and swung a leg over. “You’re a grump.”

  “Finally,” I groaned.

  I let go of the last strand of moss but wasn’t prepared for the backlash from holding the veil for so long. Pain whipped across my forehead, and I rolled onto my side, gasping.

  “Make sure to let go of the veil slowly,” Lani said.

  I dug the heels of my palms into my eyes. “Thanks. That’s super helpful.”

  I gasped and clutched at my chest as the tugging feeling sharpened into an acute ache for Tyrrik. It’d been how many hours since I’d left Gemond?

  Khosana?

  The presence of Tyrrik in my mind was the equivalent of slipping into a warm bath even if all I could feel was his panic. I wanted to hightail it back to Gemond right now, or maybe after a little kip. I blinked and slowed my breathing, focusing on releasing the tightness in my chest. I’m okay, I replied in a strangled voice. Just tired.

  Whoa, the veil was nothing compared to this raw hollowness. I really should listen to Tyrrik a bit more.

  I see . . . Want to talk? he asked.

  My lips twitched. Sure, but let me eat first.

  Go eat. When you’re ready, the password is: Lord Tyrrik is the Most Brilliant Drae.

  What? I’m not saying—Before I could finish, Tyrrik closed the mental door on me. I blinked up at Lani and said, “He’s gone.”

  She paused part way through unpacking our dinner. “Right.”

  “Head talk,” I explained, pointing at my temple.

  “So soon? You mustn’t have given him a proper send off,” she replied, waggling her silver brows.

  5

  I flushed as Lani’s meaning sank in. I wasn’t sure how Phaetyn did their send offs, but that wasn’t how I said my goodbyes.

  “You’d both probably feel better if you had,” Lani said matter-of-factly as if she could read my mind. Then her brow furrowed, and she tilted her head, examining me. “You’ve had sex with him, right?”

  Holy pancakes. Was I really having this conversation with a fake adult? I shook my head, staring at my pack as though it could save me from the entire situation. I could just crawl inside it and live there. “I’m not sleeping with anyone. I’m not ready to. How do you even know about . . .” I waved my hand and mumbled, “stuff?”

  “I’m over fifty years old.”

  “Look like eight.”

  “Fifteen,” she insisted, nostrils flaring. “And we’re not talking about my sex life.”

  Young Phaetyn got prickly about their slow aging. Kamini, Lani’s younger sister, was like that too. “We’re not talking about mine either.”

  I wrenched open the drawstring of my deer hide pack and rummaged for some water. I uncorked the skin and guzzled the contents.

  “Well, maybe we should. Sex isn’t something to be embarrassed about.”

  I choked and spat water all over my pack. Not embarrassing? I could think of a bajillion different reasons I didn’t want to talk about maypoles and the potential dancing of them, number one being that I was tired and hungry, and rectifying those two things required my full and immediate attention.

  “You’ve accepted him as your mate.” Lani took the skin and looked at me pointedly. “Mating is part of nature. Just the same as a plant growing.”

  I rolled my eyes as she drank. “Yeah, thanks for that.”

  “You do understand how it works, right? Do you need someone to explain where the parts go?”

  “No,” I said in a strangled voice. “Please, no. I know where the parts go. My mother explained it all to me. Can we not talk about this?”

  Lani said nothing, and as the minutes passed, I slowly relaxed.

  Then she went and cleared her throat. “No, sorry, Ryn. I don’t feel right leaving the matter alone. Dyter was hinting at it the other day, but he doesn’t seem comfortable tackling it head on. Who would you prefer to talk to? Dyter or me?”

  When she put it like that . . . At least Lani would be far away in a forest. “Kill me now. Okay, get on with it then,” I huffed. “I’ve got things to do.”

  Lani peered around the empty mountain top but didn’t call me out on my comment. “Have you had a boyfriend?”

  I thought of Tyr, but he—

  “Before you found your mate, I mean. Let’s not include him quite yet.”

  The only other friend I’d had was Arnik, and he was more friend, not boyfriend. “Kind of?” That was such a lie, but I didn’t want to seem uncool in front of the maybe-Phaetyn queen.

  “He was at least a friend, right?”

  I nodded.

  “Great. Now, think about how you kept the friendship healthy and strong.”

  I shook my head. “I didn’t really do anything. We hung out. Played pranks together.”

  “Did you ever give him a gift?”

  I tipped back my head and pondered a moment. “On his birthday, sure. Otherwise, not really. We were a little poor for gifts. I gave him an autumn leaf I’d pressed flat in my mother’s cookbook once.” I grinned and added with a touch of sarcasm, “Took me ages.”

  But there were gifts, small things, like him walking with me to deliver soap. Sometimes, he’d find a pretty pebble and give it to me, and I’d saved plenty of honey-cakes for him over the years.

  “Good relationships take effort to keep them healthy, and sex is a natural part of a mate-bond.”

  Heat crept into my cheeks. “I knew that.” Kind of.

  She studied me and nodded. “Good. Relationships take effort and time, and if you value the relationship, you’ll give him both. You’ll both change over time. That’s just life, so make sure you’re investing in your relationship so that distance doesn’t grow between you. Because make no mistake, though you are mates and cannot bear to be physically apart, you can still grow distant in other ways.”

  I snorted and, in my best teasing voice, said, “I’m surprised you’re such a relationship expert.”

  I knew the words were a mistake as soon as they left my mouth.

  Her smile dropped, and her features took on a haunted look.

  “I was just kidding,” I rushed to amend the offense. “I mean I’m surprised. My mother never had a partner. There were hardly any males around in Verald.”

  I frowned. Was that why I was finding it difficult to fully accept Tyrrik’s presence in my life?

  She patted my leg and said, “When you’re alone, you have a lot of time to think. And to regret. I want you to be aware of what can happen if you don’t nurture your relationships, mate and otherwise. From what I’ve observed, what you and Tyrrik have is pretty amazing.”

  I hadn’t had this I realized—another female to talk to. Childlike creepiness aside, I didn’t dislike talking to Lani. I peeked up at her through my lashes, a smile curving my lips against my will. “You really think that?”

  “I do.” She smiled back at me before shoving dried meat and bread into my hands. “Now, eat before you headtalk your mate. I’ll keep first watch. You need to recover your strength for tomorrow.”

  I wolfed dinner down double time and guzzled the rest of one of our waterskins. My muscles felt wrung out from the drain on my Phaetyn powers, but my mind kept replaying the conversation with Lani. I’d spent far more time pushing Tyrrik away than pulling him close. And sure, I’d had my reasons for a while. But I didn’t want distance between us. I just truly, deep down, feared trusting him.

  I feared he may not always be around—whether that came from my mother never having a partner, the fact there hadn’t been many males in Verald growing up, or King Irdelron’s brutality, which taught me to fear losing those I loved
—and I was allowing my fear to rule my actions. Nope, not okay with that. I determined not to let fear affect what I might have with Tyrrik. What I did have with Tyrrik.

  “Mate.” I tried out the word, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. Maybe it took a bit.

  Closing my eyes, I leaned back on a rock, doing my best to be comfortable because I was not moving. Tyrrik?

  And waited. Tyrrik?

  Was he serious? I waited another minute and then sighed long and hard. Lord Tyrrik is the Most Brilliant Drae.

  His presence flooded my body, filling me with warmth.

  You called?

  A short laugh burst from my lips. You’re an idiot. And I didn’t mean it. My fingers were crossed. I quickly crossed them.

  You just crossed them. I felt it.

  What? Sheesh, this bond is getting Strong with a capital S. I thought we could only see images from each other when our emotions are high. Is it the same with feeling how my body feels? I suddenly realized the implications of just what he might feel during future kissing meetings.

  My father would check on my mother by using her vision. He was attuned to her heart rate as well.

  I rolled my eyes. Please tell me this isn’t another ‘males can do it but females can’t’ thing.

  His lips curved, and I gasped at the purring rumble behind the gesture. I just felt you smile!

  There’s the answer to your question then, he thought back. My mother would use the connection to judge when to send my father energy on long flights and in battle.

  Tyrrik hadn’t talked much about his parents. He’d been taken from them when he was nine. But I couldn’t sense any hesitation or bitterness as he remembered them. I guess one hundred years was a long time to heal wounds. During our fight with the Druman, I just looked at the strength of your tendrils, but paying attention to how drained you feel will be better. I’m going to practice.

  Don’t overextend yourself. I can feel how tired you are from keeping up the veil all day.

  A jagged piece of rock was digging into my back, and I shifted over a few inches. Tired was an understatement. So, I drew out, what’s your favorite color?

  We’re asking each other questions? His amusement radiated through the bond, and my heart swelled with the warmth of his laughter. Black, he answered. What about yours, love?

  Of course it was. I arched a brow. Golden brown.

  Like your mother’s honey syrup?

  I smiled and slid down the side of the rock, cradling my hands under my head to get comfy. I closed my eyes. Yes. What’s your . . . favorite animal?

  Desert panther tastes the best.

  Not to eat! I chuckled sleepily. To have as a pet. Do you ever think about the things we can have when the empire isn’t starving and people can do more than survive? I think I’d like a dog. One I didn’t have to consider eating.

  I focused and was rewarded with an image from Tyrrik. He was out on one of the top balconies in the Gemond Kingdom, looking out to where I lay. I knew he couldn’t see me from there, but it was comforting to know he was looking out for me.

  I think I’d like a dog I wouldn’t eat too, he finally answered. Our dog.

  Who said Drae and human traditions couldn’t see eye-to-eye?

  “Ryn,” Lani whisper-shouted, shaking me. “Wake up.”

  I peeled an eyelid open and, noting the darkness around me, grumbled, “Leave me alone. It’s not morning yet.”

  I closed my eyes again, curling up on the not-at-all-comfortable jagged stone, determined to get every last second of sleep I could before I took off. The Phaetyn invisibility power was great, but Lani was right; it took effort to keep it up. Normally, I healed super-fast, but the idea of having to resume that cloaking-cover made me even more determined to get some extra Zs.

  A roar boomed overhead, ricocheting off the rocks around us, and I sat up with a gasp, scrambling for a hold as the entire mountain shook. Blood whooshed in my ears as my body stilled, and my mouth dried. There was a Drae . . . here.

  Collecting myself, I crouched beside Lani, blinking rapidly to adjust to the darkness. The roar cut off abruptly, and the tremors stilled. Everything stilled, hushing in the presence of the sheer power of the beast above us. I swallowed and peered up into the night sky and then to my companion, my eyes wide, as the sound of beating wings tickled my ears.

  Tyrrik? I shouted through our bond.

  White fire streamed across the velvet night sky.

  Tyrrik’s fire was blue. Which meant that Drae wasn’t Tyrrik, and there was only one other option. Terror pounded against my ribs as I contemplated what it would mean if Draedyn found me. I couldn’t be locked away again. I grabbed my chest, gasping for breath.

  Ryn? Tyrrik’s voice was laced with panic. What’s the matter?

  An image of our bedroom in Gemond flashed through our bond. I could feel his alarm as he hurried out of the room, not bothering to get dressed. My thoughts derailed for a moment until he skidded to a halt in the hallway and repeated, What’s the matter?

  Lani whispered in my ear, “We’re good, Ryn. We’ll be safe under my veil. Tell Tyrrik. Now.”

  My mind raced, and I reached for the frayed threads of reason to form a coherent sentence.

  If you don’t tell me what’s going on right now, I’m coming to find you. I can feel your fear, Khosana, and I need—

  My fear evaporated, and a deep yearning hit me, as if the roar weren’t a threat but an invitation. If I flew into the sky, I’d be able to meet my father. Yes, I’d been told my whole life he was terrible, but the truth was he’d risked everything to keep me alive because he wanted me. He had always wanted me, and even now he wanted—

  Lani clapped her hand over my mouth, and in a blink her gold net of Phaetyn power cast over the two of us. I frowned and shook my head. What just happened?

  “You had a bad dream,” Lani whispered. “Tell him that. Make something up, Ryn, because he can’t come.”

  I glared at Lani, tempted to tell her to shut her child mouth. Actually, I wanted both of them to shut up so I could process what I needed to do. “Let me talk to him,” I whispered. “Pull the net away from my head, just for a minute.”

  She nodded, and the gold net inched away from me. I’m al’right. Bad dream, and Lani freaked me out on top of it.

  Then why is your heart rate still elevated?

  Because she’s still pissing me off.

  Lani jerked her head toward a large boulder, and I followed her toward the rock, glancing around the midnight sky for any hint of the emperor.

  Tyrrik’s doubt through the bond was so strong it was like he was standing in front of me holding a sign that said ‘liar liar aketon of fire.’ If I told him about the Drae in the sky, he’d shift and probably try to come to my rescue. But that would be pointless. And I needed him there in case the Druman attacked Gemond or Draedyn showed up. I could still feel Tyrrik’s presence in my mind, almost like we were both debating what to say to the other.

  Lani’s going to put up the veil for a bit so I can sleep. I’ll—

  Are you safe?

  No. Yes. Guilt hit me. Mostly. Can you still feel me with the net up?

  I can tell you’re alive, but that’s it. Should I come—

  No.

  Lani pointed to the sky again as Draedyn released another jet of white fire, this one only two valleys to our right.

  I’ve got to go. Lani’s tapping her foot. She was inching the golden net up over my chin, in fact. I’ll check in as soon as I’m up.

  Instead of feeling his emotions quicken, I felt Tyrrik’s determination and resolve. I understand, Khosana—

  Lani closed the veil over us, cutting off his last words.

  6

  The terror of being caught and imprisoned bubbled inside me, and I continued to battle to keep it in the locked stone box where it belonged as the emperor lit up the sky with molten fire. The idea that my father was out there, up there, in his Drae form and hunting me, made me s
imultaneously want to shrink into a ball and go up there and slash his eyeballs out with my talons—but more of the former, like a one hundred to one ratio. I wasn’t stupid enough to start that fight, especially with the Phaetyn queen at my side. No, hiding was smarter.

  While I didn’t know how effective my barrier was against Drae, with Tyrrik being able to see me through it, clearly Lani’s golden veil was doing the trick.

  Both Lani and I were huddled close under her Phaetyn shield, doing our best to breathe silently. A loud roar reverberated through the range, and we both flinched.

  “Your father sucks,” Lani hissed.

  I glared at her. “Dyter is the only father I’ve ever known.”

  The next bolt of fire came from farther away, back in the direction of Gemond, and the tightness in my chest lessened along with my panic. Dawn kissed the horizon, breaking over the eastern sky. The sun’s rays lightened the dark of night to a beautiful rich cerulean, just enough for me to see the tiniest sliver of white flame in the distance. A moment later, my remaining fear disappeared over the horizon.

  Next to me, I felt Lani relax too. She took her hand off my arm and stood, releasing the veil. Bending and twisting, she stretched and then, as she marched off, mumbled, “Drak.”

  Is he gone? Tyrrik asked, voice weary.

  I yelped, startled by his immediate presence and got another glimpse of him sitting with his back to the stone wall, head bowed in his hands. He heaved a long sigh and lifted his face, his features ravaged with emotion.

  You . . . Did you know Draedyn was here the whole time?

  There is very little that frightens you to that extent, my love. I’m intimately familiar with your nightmares. And only one person possesses the power to lock you away now.

  I swallowed, pushing down the lump of emotion forming at the base of my throat. He’d known but let me pretend . . .

  There was nothing more I could do.

  Does this mean you’re coming? Part of me wanted him here, but if he showed up, did that make me a failure?