Black Crown (The Darkest Drae Book 3)

by Kelly St Clare

  What? So these were the favorites in his harem? I narrowed my eyes at the other female Drae, staring at them suspiciously. Though they all ranged in height and posture, each of them had black hair and an athletic build. I had no idea how old they were, except they had to be over one hundred years old if they’d been rounded up when Tyrrik was placed under the blood oath.

  They watched me, most with smoothed expressions, a couple with pity, one with thinly veiled mistrust. They wore similar sack-like tunics, sleeveless and undyed like mine. The one pursing her lips had a silvery scar climbing up the left side of her neck, and as soon as she caught me staring, I blushed and forced my gaze over the group, taking them in as a whole.

  As I looked at them, studying them as they measured me, the oddest thing occurred. A sense of kinship swelled within me. They were family. I could feel something with each of them, a tether, a duty to protect them, a heritage that tied us together.

  “Is that because they’re Drae or because you’re their alpha and I’m your spawn?” I asked, knowing Draedyn would be paying attention to my thoughts.

  “Because you’re Drae,” he answered before taking a bite from his toast.

  The other women and I continued staring as their rapist, my father, casually chewed on his toast. I hoped the bread stuck in his throat and killed him.

  His growl rumbled through the room, and many of the women blanched or cowered.

  I smiled, taking morose pleasure in his irritation. The horrors he’d inflicted on these women grossly overwhelmed my fear.

  “I’m Ryhl’s daughter,” I announced. My anger rising swift and hard to her defense, I continued, “You know, the one who escaped the empire with the Phaetyn’s help and evaded all attempts to find her for seventeen years?”

  The shock on the women’s faces was well worth the bravado comment. Even the one with the scar raised her eyebrows.

  Draedyn cleared his throat. “Seventeen years is but the blink of an eye. Draehl could have had eternity and you too. Alas, now she is dead, her effort for naught, and you are back in my possession.”

  I hunched forward slightly. His words were akin to a physical blow. I managed to control my expression but not my mind. The sorrow of her death pierced my heart, and I couldn’t help but wish things were different, that I still had her.

  A cruel smirk crossed Draedyn’s face as he listened to my silent lament for my mother.

  But his callousness fed my anger, giving me strength. I straightened, smiling back at him. “Not all for naught, I think.”

  I glanced around the room as if taking it in as I continued my thoughts internally. If I’d grown up here, who knows what I might have become. Ryhl taught me more in seventeen years than I could learn in seventeen hundred years from this second-rate loser with wings.

  His face contorted, but before I could continue to insult him, one of the female Drae stepped forward. She appeared a year or two older than me, and this close, I could see that her hair was dyed, the blond roots a sharp contrast to the black. Her skin was pale, and her eyes were a warm honey brown. She was maybe an inch taller than me but way curvier. Beautiful. She passed behind the other chairs until she stood before me. “I am named Draesi.”

  Indignation burned hot in my chest. That wasn’t her real name. Draesi was her slave name.

  Another growl, this one louder, slipped through Draedyn’s teeth, and the women froze. One of them whimpered, and two of them exchanged fearful glances. Draesi smiled tightly.

  I tried to appear unbothered. With the crushing force of emerald power in the room, that was no easy feat, but I took the extra moment his temper provided to engage my full senses and look at the energy of the Drae women. Unsurprisingly, most of them were drenched in the oily emerald green, but a few of them had other colors peeking through: gold, red, purple, and a rich royal blue.

  “Nice to meet you,” I replied, omitting her name from the end. It wasn’t the first time I’d used this plot to undermine someone in secret, and it wouldn’t be the last. Except I guess Draedyn was in my head, so the secret was missing the secret part.

  The strange connection between the women and me intensified with Draesi closer. Acting on instinct, I reached out a hand and touched her. The smile fell from our faces as we stared into each other’s eyes.

  Scales rippled up my neck, and my shoulderblades ached with the need to allow my wings to burst forth. Fierce determination pulsed within, and I clenched my fists. No one would harm my kin.

  “You’ve never met another Drae?” Draesi asked, her expression softening.

  I inhaled deeply and pushed back the stunted start of transformation. “Not since coming into my powers. No one but my mate. He’d spoken about the kinship between Drae, but—”

  I hadn’t expected it to be so strong. I wanted to do whatever I needed to help them.

  She flipped my hand over in a blur and squeezed it. “It is a beautiful feeling. I’m very glad to have met you.”

  One of the others stood, the scarred mistrustful one, although she was just as beautiful as Draesi, just in her own way. “You have a mate?”

  I nodded, aware from Tyrrik that they would never find their mates because the emperor had Irdelron kill all male Drae.

  “He must be going insane right now,” the same woman said, her blue eyes narrowing.

  I nodded. He would be going insane. I was going insane. My chest was going to explode from the ache. I was unreasonably glad that we had gone our separate ways a few times in the last month or I’d be freaking out right now.

  “Heir,” Draedyn said, rising, “Join me on the balcony.” He dabbed at his mouth with a plain napkin, same bland color as all the other fabric in his lair, and then walked sedately to my side.

  The balcony? There was no place I’d rather be, even if I had to suffer daddykin’s presence.

  I threw one last look to the female Drae, wondering how often I’d get to see them.

  “As often as you like, heir,” Draedyn answered.

  “If I stay here, right?” I asked, rolling my eyes.

  The female who’d first approached me lifted a hand in farewell before leading the others from the room. It was just me and the ruler of the realm, stepping out into the sunshine for a balcony chat. At least I was fairly certain we wouldn’t get interrupted by Druman coming to beat me.

  Up and up.

  I dragged in a huge breath as soon as we were outside, but the briny smell made me wrinkle my nose. Draedyn and I stood on a jutting triangle of black graphite, no railing, just like Tyrrik’s balcony in Verald. I lifted my gaze, and the uninterrupted view of Draedyn’s realm was—I was loathe to admit—breathtaking.

  These cliffs protruded into the middle of the realm’s western most point, and the area in front of me, facing south, was a large flat plain until land met ocean. Low, white houses were arranged in neat rows covering most of the plain, leaving a wide berth as a barrier between Draedyn’s palace and his people.

  “Is it the same on the other side?” I asked.

  The emperor nodded, not paying attention to me as he stared southeast.

  “Are all your people Druman?”

  “No,” he replied flatly.

  Obviously I wasn’t going to get any more information from him, so I followed his gaze. I blinked; the edges of land around the Azule kingdom were blurry.

  I sighed. “Can I have my Drae eyes for a sec?”

  “I permit it,” he answered. “Don’t do anything foolish.”

  Oh great. That was so nice of him. And I wasn’t that stupid. Yet.

  I focused, and using a tiny gap in Draedyn’s power around my mind, was able to draw my Drae eyes forward and look afresh. I gasped. “Smoke. There’s smoke coming from the Azuli kingdom.”

  I moved to stand by Draedyn’s side, barely able to contain my glee and then fear. I wanted to jump, shout, scream, and cheer. The army attacked. They were still doing what we’d set out to do. Except I wasn’t there to help, and maybe they’d attacked too
early. My friends were there, my family. I might not have kinship hoo-ha with them, but these were people I loved, who chose to love me, and I loved them too. They meant more to me than any of the female Drae I’d just met.

  Draedyn half turned to me, his features pulled down in confusion. “You . . . love the humans?”

  Was Tyrrik there fighting? Would they come to Draedyn’s realm next? After they won? Azule wouldn’t present a major barrier, especially with Lani and Tyrrik there. And their new queen seemed far cannier than Mily, but the people were the same.

  I arched a brow at my father’s callous question, ignoring the rapid beat of my heart. “You obviously don’t.”

  “They are like cattle,” Draedyn said after a beat. “Their existence is necessary. They serve a purpose. I even appreciate what they can do. But love? I do not love them; they are animals. Animals which need tending in order to do what I need them to do.”

  Un-freaking-believable. Draedyn’s warmth and humanity clearly set him up to be beloved by all. He was a shepherd to a flock of none. A curved staff would complete the twisted image he’d put forward. And he wanted me to be his heir? Heir of what? Savagery and deceit? Had he always been so vicious? Sick-o.

  “I grow weary of your rambling,” the emperor said, his chin jutting forward.

  I smiled sweetly. “Oh, pardon me. You don’t like my thoughts? Then feel free to stop listening.”

  Through our bond I felt his irritation spike, and then oily darkness oozed from him to me. I lost my Drae vision immediately, and my adrenaline spiked, causing my mouth to go dry and my heart to race.

  His demeanor shifted, no longer patient parent but ruthless ruler.

  I reached for my tendrils on the other side of the emerald barrier in my mind, but it was futile. I couldn’t reach my lapis Drae power. Turning, I studied the edge of the graphite platform with new awareness; if I fell here, I’d be utterly at the emperor’s mercy during the fall.

  “Yes, daughter,” he said, stepping closer, a predator coming at his prey. “You are subject to my mercy, but it does not have to be that way. Be my heir, and I will relinquish my control.”

  “Never,” I spat. I’d die first—except I was immortal. I’d had pain before, and while I would do almost anything to avoid sadistic torture, I would not bend my will to Draedyn’s.

  “Seventeen years is the blink of an eye, if you recall,” he said, stepping back. “I expect you will change your mind one day. They all do.”

  I opened my mouth to protest, but his power flooded through the crevices in my mind.

  I smiled widely at him, bowing in obsequiousness. “Anything to please you, Father.”

  31

  “Does he pull that a lot?” I asked the female Drae sitting across from me, the scarred one. I tried to remember her name but couldn’t remember if she’d told me. I hadn’t spoken since waking an hour ago in a room with five other female Drae.

  He’d fully taken over again, and I’d been left with only a black hole between the end of our conversation on the balcony to waking. Yet as I’d sat in silence, pieces came back to me just like before when I’d remembered Kamoi’s presence on Draedyn’s back in Azule. I’d then turned my focus to the other black holes in my memories from his control. I couldn’t remember everything I was certain, but I was getting glimpses of flying over Azule, of the smell of smoke and the distant screams of battling humans on the ground. I shook my head as a memory of a servant clasping me about the arm to lead me into this room flashed before my eyes. Was I supposed to be remembering this stuff? If not, why? He’d seemed displeased about that fact yesterday. Were my Phaetyn powers helping me out? It seemed the likeliest explanation.

  Of one thing I was sure: next time Draedyn should just eat his toast and leave me alone.

  “You sure have a mouth on you,” one of the young women who was probably a century old said. “I hope you can back it up when the time comes.”

  Time comes? Time comes for what?

  “Hush, Draelys,” Draesi said.

  The Drae with the scar on her neck turned to me and smiled, though her shoulders and neck remained taut, accentuating the jagged blemish. “Would you like to visit the bath chamber, Draeryn?”

  I pursed my lips before swallowing my automatic reply of Just Ryn. I wouldn’t even take the start of Tyrrik’s name, and he was my mate. Draedyn literally stood zero chance of smooshing with my name. But with the offer of a bath, I didn’t care what they called me.

  A slow smile spread across my face, warming my heart. “Yes, please.”

  I’d done the best I could to clean in my washroom, but the facilities were limited. Really limited. Like a chamber pot and basin of water. A few specks of Kamoi’s blood dotted my legs and feet, only a few specks, but every time I splashed the remains of the bowl on me, I seemed to miss a few.

  The one who’d offered me the bath asked the others if they’d like to come. Apparently, this wasn’t a solo bath experience. All but three gave a reason to excuse themselves—thank the inventor of private bath chambers—five still seemed like a bit of a crowd for bath time.

  As we walked down the hall, I darted covert looks at the other Drae. The one leading us looked familiar, and she walked next to the one who’d spoken of knowing my mother. How well had these women known Mum? They’d been with her anywhere from eighty to almost a hundred years, so I wanted to assume they knew everything about her. But then Irdelron hadn’t known Tyrrik, and they’d been together a century. To know someone, both sides had to open up. What if my mother had never opened up to these women?

  We zigzagged down into the base of the cliff, and warm, sulfurous air billowed out from a cavern. An entire cave in the mountain was dotted with hot spring-fed pools, over a dozen of them—some bigger than the throne room in Gemond, which was saying something. The heat and moisture greeted me, warming my skin, and I wanted to skip through the doorway despite the rotten egg smell. As soon as we were inside the cave, I shed my sack-tunic and dipped my toe into the nearest pool, sighing at the languid feel of the soft heat.

  “Come back here,” the scarred Drae said, waving me to the back of the cave. “These pools are used less often.”

  Less often? Like there wouldn’t be witnesses if she drowned me? Or these pools are cleaner? If she was just a stranger, I would’ve taken off running, but I could hear the sincerity in her words, so I followed her back into the chamber and finally, blissfully, sank into the warm water.

  Not gonna lie, sitting neck deep in hot water felt really good after the last two days. The heat drew the tension from my muscles like sucking venom from a bite, and with all the horror in Draedynland, I felt a bit of gratitude for the other captives, my only remaining kin, being nice enough to show me the ropes.

  The Drae who’d invited me to the back sank into the water across from me. “Feels good, yes?”

  I murmured yes, my gaze trailing over the room, stopping on the two Drae who’d remained by the door. “Are we watching for something?”

  Her answering smile looked a lot like pity, and said, “We’re always watching for something.”

  “Is there more than him to watch for?” When the Drae shook her head, I returned to my initial question. “So, about earlier, does he do that mind control thing a lot?”

  She ran her hands through her now wet black hair and studied me. “You mean imposing his will?”

  I nodded. Every time it happened, I wanted to scrub my mind with strong-smelling and gritty soap, something to rid me of his omnipresence.

  “Not usually, but then you’re a lot like your mother, and he always had a hard time with her.”

  “A hard time?” I asked, perking up with pride. Heck yes, he did.

  “Ryhl struggled to conform too.”

  I smiled at the compliment; intended or not, it was nice to know I was like my mother. I sagged at the tightness in my chest, a vice around my heart, gasping at the suddenness of the pain. The spasm lasted only a few seconds, but my heart pounded in the wake
.

  The scarred Drae watched me, her brows drawing together. “Does that hurt a lot? Is that from being separate from your mate?”

  “Yes and yes.” I rubbed my chest, but I wasn’t talking about Tyrrik inside these walls, kinship or not. Instead of divulging anything else about my mate, I asked, “Will you tell me about my mother?”

  “What would you like to know?” The woman dragged her hand through the top of the pool, sending ripples across the surface.

  I shrugged and hiccupped, only then realizing I was crying. What the hay? I laughed at myself, frustrated with my inability to control my emotions about someone who was already dead. Or was that sadness doubling up with missing Tyrrik and the lingering fear from the blackouts? Regardless, the overwhelming emotion clogged my throat, and I croaked, “Everything. Anything. What was she like when she was here? What did you all do?”

  These women had been with my mother here for over eighty years in Draedyn’s company and likely longer before that. My desire to know more about my mother was insatiable. I wasn’t foolish enough to believe Draedyn wouldn’t find out or that there wouldn’t be consequences, but it didn’t matter. Whatever aftermath ensued would be worth it because right now in this very cavern, my mother and these women had spoken together, lived together, grieved together, just like we were now.

  The three female Drae laughed at my stream of questions, and I held up my hand to stop them. “Wait. Before you start, before we go any further, will you tell me your names again? I recognize Draesi up there, and you’re Draelys, right?”

  When I first saw the Drae women, I’d thought they looked so similar; obviously, they were all kin to one another. But after a couple hours in their presence, my mistake was embarrassingly noticeable; both by appearance and personality, these women were not carbon copies of one another, regardless of what Draedyn had attempted to do.

  “This is Draemyr, and that one over there with Draesi is Draenique.”

  My gaze darted back and forth several times, and, jerking my head to the last two Drae, I asked, “Are you two sisters?”