Black Crown

by Kelly St Clare

  I gasped, heat flooding through me at the small, dominating nip.

  “Do you like this?” he asked. Before I could answer, he gripped my waist, kneading his way to my hips. “What about this?”

  Is that even a question? I moaned and pushed my hips to his in response. He dipped his hand under the gathered fabric of my chemise and asked, “Do you like this?”

  I swallowed, and my voice was thick when I answered, “Yes.”

  He pushed his calloused hand up the side of my body, lifting the chemise over my head. “This?”

  My breaths were shallow, and I nodded as Tyrrik dragged his eyes over my mostly naked body. His low, throaty growl reverberated from him to me. Aching want tugged deep in my stomach, and I moved toward him in a blur.

  You are ethereal. Tyrrik traced his fingers down between my breasts, only the barest of essentials still covered with my bralette. “Come,” he said, his voice rumbling between us. “Let me warm your bath.”

  “Bath?” We were stopping for a bath?

  He lowered his head, his lips hovering just above my mouth, and then brushing my lips, he said, “Tell me if you like this.”

  Tyrrik kissed me, nipping my bottom lip, and I opened my mouth to him. His tongue stroked mine and his hands caressed me, his touch my entire world. When he put distance between us, I whispered his name. A plea.

  He stood me at the edge of the bath, dropped his undergarments, and glanced back as he got in. “You’ve still got clothes on.”

  Problem solved. I followed him into the bath.

  Steam rose from the water, swirling around us. Tyrrik’s onyx power seeped through the room. My lapis energy danced and dipped, and as the two powers met, they tangled around each other and flared, the sudden glow bursting through the bathroom.

  Tyrrik continued the pretense of his game, asking question after question, driving me steadily insane until there was no me or him, no separate bodies, no separate powers.

  There was only us. Tender touches, the silken stroke of fingers, whisper-soft caresses, and soul-deep sighs.

  We pushed each other to places of aching desperation. And when the stars and moons exploded, lights burst behind my eyelids.

  Our lives intertwined, indiscernible as mine or his.

  Tyrrik was mine.

  And I was his.

  “Tyrryn?” Tyrrik asked, tracing his finger down my face.

  I groaned, batting his hand away, too lacking in sleep after our love-making to want to be up this early.

  “Tyrryn,” he growled. “Mate.”

  Then I processed what he’d said and sat up holding the sheet to my chest.

  “Tear-Ryn?” I scrunched my nose at the name on my lips. It sounded . . . odd. Not that I was opposed to our mate-bond, but I wasn’t so sure I wanted to be Tyrryn, tearin’ through the sky. Tearin’ to the gems.

  “Tearing through the sky?” he asked, faint amusement in his voice.

  But underneath the forced humor, I could feel his confusion and hurt. Whoa. The bond-thing was legitimately stronger.

  “I don’t understand,” Tyrrik said, his brow furrowing. “You don’t like my name?”

  Okay, that might’ve sounded a bit . . . rude. Tyrrik leaned over me, and heaviness settled in my chest as I peered up at him. “I’ve only ever been Ryn, and my mom was Ryhl. The r-y is kinda the only thing I have left from my mother, Tyrrik. It’d be like me asking you to be Ryrik. I’m just not sure . . .”

  He searched my face, his expression serious, not even going for the Ryrik-bait. He nodded and asked, “What would you like to do?”

  “I could still be Ryn, and you could still be Tyrrik?” I said weakly. “We’re mates. Officially, if we have to write it down somewhere, I’m from the house of Tyr. I’m one hundred percent team Tyr. But everyday . . . I’m just going to be Ryn. Maybe we dispense with that part of human tradition?”

  Amusement flooded his eyes. “And where do you think that human tradition came from?”

  A moment passed before I got it. “Really?” I asked pointing at him. “It’s a Drae thing? So, does that mean I would’ve been Draeryn because the emperor is Draedyn?” And I thought Tyrryn was odd. “I like Ryn.”

  His features smoothed, and I grasped his thoughts just a fraction before he spoke them aloud. “If I compromise on this, will you promise to remain by my side?”

  “Like conjoined twins?” I asked glibly.

  “No, just within the vicinity,” he said, throwing his hands in the air. “I want to be able to get to you quickly if someone tries to hurt you. That’s what I mean. If you’re days away, I can’t protect you.”

  His words hung heavy in the air. I frowned, struggling to separate my wants from his. A part of me desperately wanted to never be without him, but swearing to always being that close was a big issue. Always left no room for freedom. “Are we starting that again? After what we shared last night?”

  “No, my mate,” he said, kissing away my frown. “I would not have that.”

  But the sad ache of his forlornness at my answer echoed through me, battling against my resolve. This bond might take some getting used to.

  “Tyrrik?” I said, reaching up to loop my hands around the back of his neck as I let the sheet go.

  “Yes, my Ryn?”

  I took a deep, happy breath. “I love you. So very much.”

  A rumble, almost akin to a purr, filled the space between us, and his joy swelled within me.

  I stared at him, my heart full, and realized I’d never said the words before. I’d mated with him, mentally and physically, and yet never acknowledged what that meant out loud.

  His eyes shined as he lowered his head to place a tender kiss on my forehead. “I love you more than life itself, my mate. I hope you enjoyed last night.”

  I nodded, smoothing my face though I couldn’t conceal the way my heart leaped. “It was pretty good.” I pulled him closer and whispered in his ear, “I think we should play cards again tonight.”

  “Play cards?” He laughed when I blushed, his body shaking me and the space around us. But he shook his head. “No, you’ll be sore from last night.”

  Ha! “That might be true if I were human or just Drae. But us Phaetyn? We’ve got all the skills.” I tightened my embrace and grinned impishly before licking his ear. “Come on,” I whispered, my heart pounding. “Play cards with me.”

  “What have I started?” he replied.

  Honestly, I was wondering that too.

  A slow smile spread across his face, and I let out a squeal of delight as he knelt upright and ripped away the blankets between us. His handsome face and boyish grin was all I could see as my Drae reached for me.

  15

  Hunger drove us out of the lapis chamber, and my stomach growled as we walked through the empty corridor. I was going to eat an entire boulder-sized potato. Mmm. Roasted with rosemary and salt. Maybe Tyrrik can breathe fire on one. I snickered.

  Tyrrik and I held hands as we wound up through the kingdom, and by the time we reached the level of our old rooms, I pulled him to a stop as the silence settled in. I grimaced up at Tyrrik and asked, “Where is everyone?”

  “My thoughts exactly,” he murmured.

  That had been his thought? Had I mistaken it for my own? I blinked several times, trying to untangle him from me.

  It was your own.

  I narrowed my eyes at the amusement in his mind voice. “Yes, I know,” I huffed, even though I knew he’d know I was lying. “But when I start thinking about it all, my mind gets weird and twisty.”

  Your human notions are getting in the way.

  I snorted and tugged him forward. “Whatever, Ryrik.”

  He growled, and I smirked. Definitely needed to remember that quip.

  Two golden-guards clattered down the gem-encrusted passage toward us.

  They bowed, and the smaller one said, “Lord Tyrrik, Lady Tyrryn.”

  Whoa, whoa, whoa! Why were they calling me Tyrryn? My eyes rounded. Drak, they knew
we’d mated? My cheeks flushed. How did they know?

  “Where is everyone?” Tyrrik asked, ignoring my imagination of rocks crashing and Drae roaring.

  Please tell me that didn’t really happen.

  At the same time, the guard rotated his attention to Tyrrik. “The army left five hours ago, my lord. King Zakai instructed you to be left alone until . . .”

  I fixed the man with a cool glare. He better not go there.

  He never even glanced my way but still blanched and wisely didn’t finish the sentence. Maybe Tyrrik had shown some fang.

  “They expected you’d be able to catch up,” the second guard said.

  Right, we had wings. Pretty safe assumption.

  “Indeed. Thank you,” Tyrrik said. Grabbing my hand, he led me around the guards.

  Do you think everyone knows we were playing cards? I asked.

  He didn’t even glance my way, but a blind man could’ve seen Tyrrik’s huge grin. In one word? Yes. What we did is nothing to be ashamed of, my love. I’d imagine everyone else wishes they were doing the same.

  I wrinkled my nose then tried to un-judge my judgment of everyone judging us. Sex was a pretty natural thing; every person, human, Phaetyn, and Drae was the result of playing cards. “Well, I’m not confirming any rumors, regardless of how natural spawning is.”

  His grip tightened on my hand. “I plan to become intimately familiar with you.” And no one will see you like that but me.

  An image flashed in my mind. Walls? “Wait,” I said, stopping outside the doorway to the kitchen. “Did you just find a human thing you liked?”

  “Perhaps walls have their uses.”

  Trust him to pick the most possessive human thing he could.

  He pushed the door open and the scents of yeast, potatoes, and roasted meat wafted in the air. My stomach rumbled, and I grinned in anticipation. We were in the kitchen. Food.

  I inhaled, trying to eat the smells, and all-but ran to a flat tray of steaming potato wedges just out of the oven. My mouth watered, and I hovered on the verge of tipping the whole tray in my mouth before recalling those left behind would be waiting for food.

  I took four and stood back as Tyrrik took four also. He totally needed more, and so I reached forward and grabbed a handful for him. “I’ll grow a few more potatoes on my way out, but you better get enough to eat.”

  He raised his eyebrows and grabbed another handful then held them out for me. “You too.”

  Our hunger abated; we left the rest of the food for the others, knowing we could hunt on the way.

  “Excuse me.” I addressed the closest cook, a rail-thin man who didn’t sample enough of his creations. “Would you know where I could find some seed stores? I need carrots, beans, squash, tomatoes. Small seeds for vegetables and fruits, nothing that grows on a tree or needs more than one season to grow, preferably.”

  “I will send someone to collect some for you.” He waved at one of the kitchen maids.

  I stared at his scrawny arm. The woman who joined him was just as thin. “Thank you. A bag the size of my fist should do. And some potato and beetroots too. Could you ask them to meet us at the northern exit?”

  The cook nodded and told the woman where to go to get the seeds, and then she hurried over to a teenage girl, hushing instructions in her ear.

  We walked through the mountain halls, winding to the back entrance where we’d arrived early yesterday morning. Had only one day seriously passed? I felt changed, grown, at peace. Sliding my gaze to Tyrrik, I didn’t have to puzzle over the reason.

  My mate completed me. His contentment was my contentment. After everything we’d gone through, separate and together, I’d do it all over again, knowing this was the end result.

  Potato wedges long gone, I planted the other potatoes and beets, throwing some vibrant Phaetyn-mojo at them, and told the young girl to wait a quarter of an hour and then get some help digging up the root vegetables.

  Tyrrik shifted just outside the Gemond Kingdom, and I joined him after stretching my moss-green veil over my Drae form to keep my presence cloaked from Draedyn. We wanted to keep our plans from him for as long as possible. I rose into the air just above the treetops to join my mate in his onyx Drae form and then extended my veil until it covered us both. The air was now clean of smoke and ash, and I grinned as we started northward to join our friends.

  So, Tyrrik said casually, drawing my attention from the ground. Spawning.

  My wings froze for half a second before they resumed their rhythmic beating. Yes?

  You mentioned spawning?

  I’d mentioned the word errantly, and so my reply was flippant. I like practicing.

  I could feel through the mate bond how much my answer meant to him, so I considered my words before answering further. He was over one hundred years old; he might’ve wanted Drae babies for longer than I’d been alive.

  I want to have Drae babies with you, I said. But I’m also younger than you. I feel . . . I feel I’m getting better, stronger, and a bit wiser. But I don’t know if I’m ready for little Tyrriks yet. We have time though, right? If we lost the war, my answer was pointless anyway. I closed my eyes, refusing to think of what might happen to Tyrrik if we lost.

  We have time, he replied. And experience and wisdom will be good for you and them.

  Good. Besides, I want to get my treasure stash all set up too.

  He swept his great head to look at me. Of course. That’s a given. I’ll extend my trove into a cavern beautiful enough for my mate—

  I was glad we were on the same page about babies and the privacy thing.

  You will store your treasures there and then have our babies throughout the ages.

  At least I thought we were on the same page. It bothered me we hadn’t come to a compromise on the ‘don’t leave my side’ issue. Maybe I shouldn’t have brushed him off earlier, but I hadn’t wanted to ruin the mood.

  Before long, the trailing members of King Zakai’s army were visible dots moving on the stoney ground far below. As we descended, I shivered with how easy it would be for the emperor to spot them. He could unleash a jet of fire upon the army and kill them all without even landing.

  Good thing Tyrrik and I were here now. But still . . . Hey, can you attack my mind for a bit? I need some practice.

  I instantly turned my attention inward, knowing he wouldn’t delay. I imagined my mind as a ball and then drew the blue tendrils of my Drae power away from my mate, ignoring the hollowness in my chest as I did so. I wound the tendrils of power around my mind, thread by thread in a sort of turban-like shield. Working as fast as I mentally could, I thickened the glowing blue strands creating a shiny defense to outside attack.

  Tyrrik’s mental blow hit my forehead with the force of a battering ram. I roared, feeling the buffer around my mind dissolve instantly, the power rebounding back to coil with Tyrrik’s black tendrils.

  Drak! I snapped my fangs in frustration. Why can’t I get it? I’ve actually gotten worse. I didn’t even hold you out for a single second this time.

  We are fully mated now. Keeping me out will be much harder.

  Great, I grumbled. Not that I wanted to keep him out. I was long past that. But if I couldn’t keep Tyrrik out, would I be able to keep my father out?

  Try again, my queen. You are creating a barrier. Why don’t you try making the barrier harder or thicker?

  Al’right. I wound my tendrils around my head again, coiling them tight, and then imagined the individual tendrils merging into one thick shell as though my spiked tail was wrapped around my mind. I knew Tyrrik was giving me too much time, time the emperor wouldn’t give me, but I focused on hardening the Drae shield, making it an impenetrable diamond.

  I nodded, not breaking my concentration. And Tyrrik attacked.

  The battering ram struck me just as hard, and I clung to my wall. Diamond, diamond, diamo—

  My blue power shattered like glass sugar, the shards blasting inward, and pain stabbed my temples. I reached
for the pieces, straining to catch them and form a shield. But once again, the blue energy was drawn back to Tyrrik’s power.

  I opened my eyes and sighed, the sound coming out my Drae mouth as a weary groan.

  That was better, Tyrrik said. You kept me out for a few seconds, and even then, I couldn’t immediately seize control.

  I felt like I’d played my first game of hopscotch and Tyrrik was telling me I wouldn’t fall and scrape my knee next time. Thanks. Perhaps it’s like my Phaetyn veil, and I just need to strengthen the muscle.

  We’ll keep trying. We have weeks, maybe even a couple of months before we’ll reach the heart of the empire.

  That didn’t mean Draedyn wouldn’t find us first. My thoughts stirred uneasily as I scanned the ground again. We were nearing the front of the procession and descended side-by-side. Soon after, we shifted and strode back through the first ten rows of gold-plated soldiers to reach Zakai and Dyter.

  “Hey,” I said, pretending the entire army hadn’t left the Gemond Mountains and neither Tyrrik nor I noticed because we’d had our clothes off.

  King Zakai nodded, graciously playing along. “I’m glad to see familiar faces. The sky had been worrying me. I’m afraid we are easy targets out here.”

  They are, Tyrrik said.

  I hummed in agreement. “You are vulnerable from the sky. Tyrrik and I can help if the emperor attacks, but I don’t want to rely on that.”

  Phaetyn veil.

  I wasn’t sure if the thought was mine or my mate’s—it didn’t matter.

  The army was huge, not as big as Zivost, but I’d need to create a veil, larger than any I’d made before, and definitely larger than I was capable of holding for any length of time. Just more mind-muscle work.

  “You have a solution?” Zakai asked, rubbing a hand over his shorn scalp. He looked younger without the long, stringy hair he’d had when I first met him.

  “Your Phaetyn veil?” Dyter said, joining us. He was quick on the uptake as always.

  Walking beside the king, I replied, “I’m not making promises, but I should be able to cover some of the army if we’re attacked by Druman or Draedyn.”