by Raye Wagner
The King of Gemond picked up his knife and fork and began to eat.
* * *
“You handled that quite well, my girl,” Dyter said as we walked back through the sapphire-encrusted halls to our rooms. “The king’s eyes brightened when you touched him. Did you heal him?”
“I tried,” I said, my eyes drifting to the gems glinting behind Dyter. “I'm not sure how well my Phaetyn juice works on humans; it seems to work better on Tyrrik.”
I had a difficult time keeping my attention fixed on the old man. The sconces’ light made the valuable stones twinkle, teasing me with their preciousness. I really needed a few minutes alone with one of these walls.
My hand went to the billowy folds of the dress I wore and the knife concealed therein. I’d managed to borrow one of the golden utensils from supper and was counting down the minutes until I could pry one of the cut stones out. The sapphires were especially nice, and I liked their deep-blue coloration. Too bad there was no such thing as a black diamond; it might be nice to have a stone that looked like Tyrrik's scales.
As my thoughts went to the Drae, I quickened my pace. I told myself I was just excited to share with him the information I’d learned. That, and I held a small basket with the meager leftovers for him from our meal. Guilt prodded me as I reflected on how much food I’d consumed compared to how much Tyrrik would get. He needed a few . . .
“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” I said, shoving the basket toward Dyter. “Tell Tyrrik this is a snack and I’ll bring him more in a little bit.”
Dyter furrowed his brow, and then a slow smile spread across his face. “Of course. And, while you’re in their gardens, if they have strawberries, will you help them along, too?”
I waved my hand at him as I scurried down the hall, and then I came across a guard on the level below.
“Excuse me,” I asked the guard. “Could you direct me to the nearest garden?”
The gold-plated Gemondian bowed. “Certainly, Mistress. I will take you to them. Please, follow me.”
I trailed after the guard up level after level, increasingly grateful for his guidance as I became lost in the mountain labyrinth.
He stopped at the top of a set of stairs several minutes later and gestured down the hall. “You will find the royal gardens down the end of this passage, Mistress.”
I bent over, panting hard, not failing to notice the guard hadn’t even broken a sweat. “Thank you,” I gasped. “For your help.”
“It is my pleasure, Mistress. Do you require anything else?”
A new set of lungs? “No, that will be all.”
The guard bowed and then disappeared down the stairs as, clutching my side, I walked down the passage.
The royal gardens were like a sad memory. I could see once the stone columns and ancient trees had been grand. Now, the light pouring through large circular holes in the mountainside only illuminated the gnarled trunks, yellowed leaves, and crumbling rocky ground.
King Zakai crouched next to an empty garden bed, explaining to the gardener how to diffuse the blood in the water.
“You won’t need that here,” I said, cracking my knuckles. I let a sheepish smile escape. I thought for a moment about asking for something in return, but my mum’s words echoed in my mind, “A good deed isn’t a good deed if they pay you for it.” I wanted this to be a good deed.
I knelt on the ground beside the king and rested my hands on the rocky soil of the dark garden. I could feel the struggle of the vegetation through the barren dirt. I took a deep breath and thought of the vibrancy of Zivost. My awareness spread throughout the entire royal garden, and I greeted the various plants with a mental caress, recognizing them without effort. I wanted this garden to be as luscious and full of life as the Zivost. Pushing my Phaetyn mojo into the ground, I told the pumpkins, potatoes, carrots, beans, berries, parsnips, and fruit trees to grow. Like a ripple in the water, a wave of power swelled beneath my hands for a while before it undulated outward. I sent another surge directed at the potatoes.
People could always use more potatoes in my experience.
I opened my eyes and pointed where the scraggly potato plants had been a few minutes ago. The foliage was now thick and green. “If you dig those up now, they won’t be too big,” I said to King Zakai and the gardener. “In the morning, they’ll be the size of pumpkins. Will you have your cook roast one or two now and bring them up to Lord Tyrrik, please? He missed supper, and—”
“It would be my pleasure,” King Zakai said, his voice breaking. He reached for a hand trowel and then shuffled over to the patch and hacked at the dirt.
In his rush to dig up a potato, he was going to gouge them. I scooted after him. “Here. When you dig them up, the trick is to go at it softly so you don’t tear the skin.”
I unearthed a potato, and when I followed the tuber to its edges, I found the little spuds were the size of a watermelon already. Yeah, those were definitely mine. Apparently, my mojo was a little stronger now.
I deposited the potato into the gardener’s outstretched hand and brushed off my own. Ignoring the king’s gaping mouth, I said, “I’m off. Please be sure to round up something hearty for Tyrrik to eat. Drae get very cranky when they’re hungry.”
The king recovered enough to chuckle weakly, but the soldier’s mouth remained open.
“I’ll be sure to send up some of the potato to him when it’s roasted. Please give my best to him and Lord Dyter. And thank you, Ryn.”
I brushed off his apology and stooped to pluck a carrot and a couple strawberries the size of apples from the ground, and then I left the walled-off garden.
I strode down several empty halls before I realized I was alone. Alone. With my knife. And a bajillion precious jewels. Conditions were perfect.
34
I glanced up and down the hall. The coast was clear. I studied the wall, twirling my golden knife absently.
The stone masons had used a dark cement to adhere the gems to the walls, and I wiggled the tip of the blade into the mortar, gritting my teeth at the grating sound it created. Mistress Moons, that sounded worse than Dyter’s singing. But I was Ryn the Persistent, and within a few minutes, I’d freed not one but three stunning uncut stones the size of my palm. Saliva filled my mouth, and my fingers itched to get a few more out to add to my horde, but I suppressed the urge. I wasn’t greedy. What I was taking was reasonable. Besides, the gaps I’d left weren’t that noticeable, but if I took too many, someone would inevitably notice the holes. I wanted my collection to be balanced, not just full of one type of shiny.
I placed the three sapphires in my pockets, along with the golden knife, its tip now bent, and returned to our rooms.
“Here’s your strawberries, Dyter,” I said as I opened the door, dropping my voice as his soft snores registered.
My gaze went from his supine form to the other two beds in our room, and my heart dropped. Both of them were empty. I sucked in a ragged breath, a scream balanced on the edge of my lips. I managed to swallow it back and scanned the room for evidence of a struggle, anything that would give me an indication if Tyrrik left on his own accord or—
“Ryn?” Tyrrik whispered from the open door of the bathroom.
He stood bare-chested, and water ran in rivulets down his skin. A towel was wrapped around his tapered waist.
A new sense of angst replaced my previous panic as heat flooded my cheeks.
“Sorry,” I mumbled. He must’ve felt my fear through the bond. “I thought they’d taken you.” I was probably irrationally apprehensive, but my ability to be calm over things like that was shattered.
He took a deep breath, and I stared at his chest muscles. Had he already healed? Because it looked like he was filling back out. I crossed the room, choosing not to ignore the low pull in my abdomen to be near him.
“How are you feeling?” I forced my gaze upward, my heart flipping when I saw the same intensity reflected in his eyes. “You look good.”
I did not jus
t say that out loud. Trying to salvage my blunder, I blurted, “Like, not dead.”
A low chuckle rumbled from his lips. “You look good, too. Although I liked the way your other dress bounced when you jumped from rock to rock.”
I might’ve hit him if I wasn’t still holding the produce. I decided the wall to one side of him was a good place to look. “I knew you were looking at my butt.”
Tyrrik reached forward and grabbed my wrist. He reeled me in and tugged me into the bathroom. “There was only one side for me to look at,” he said with a lop-sided smile. Tyrrik pointed at the strawberries and carrot. “Did you bring those for me?”
“You can have the carrot and one strawberry. The other strawberry is for Dyter,” I said.
I put some space between us, trying to steady my breathing. I went to the wash-basin to clean the dirt off my produce. I set one berry on the countertop, my gaze crossing over the gold-flecked granite, and thought of my new treasures. I smiled. I couldn’t wait to set up some kind of dark warm cave with all my objects.
“They’re bringing up some potatoes for you,” I said then snickered. “I know how much you love potatoes.”
I turned to offer him the berry, but he’d dropped the towel and was slipping back into the large tub. My mouth dried up, and I averted my gaze.
Holy Drae Babies.
“What are you doing?” I whisper-screamed. I stole another peek, unsure whether to be relieved or disappointed he was submerged in the water. Tyrrik watched me with dark, magnetic eyes.
“Do you want to join me?” he asked, a hint of Drae in his voice.
Yes. “No,” I blurted. “I—” Was it just me, or was the room getting smaller? “I should probably leave.”
No probably about it. I should leave, but I didn’t want to go out into our room and listen to Dyter snore. Because that’s a really solid reason not to leave a bathroom containing a naked Drae? Totally solid.
“Then stay,” Tyrrik said, slipping down deeper in the water. “I won’t pull you in; I promise. Not unless you ask me to.”
I rolled my eyes, but part of me wanted to ask. Jerking my thumb at the strawberries and carrot, I asked, “Do you want either of these?”
“Yes, please,” he said, his gaze still fixed on me.
I stared at him, and he stared back. The temperature rose a million degrees. Were we both thinking about the moment I’d have to pass him the fruit?
“Which one?” I ground out.
“Either.” His gaze dropped to my hands. “Both.” He frowned. “What do you have in your pockets?”
My hands went to my skirt, and then I forced them behind me, acting as natural as I could when the gems clinked together. “Nothing.”
I grabbed the carrot and one of the berries and threw them at him. In a blur of movement, he caught one right after the other, thankfully while keeping his lower half submerged. Obviously, I hadn’t thought that through.
He ate the massive strawberry in a few bites and started in on the carrot.
“So, King Zakai isn’t as bad as I thought,” I said, trying to alleviate some of the extreme awkwardness—not that Tyrrik would care. “Did Dyter tell you Gemond will fight with us?”
“Yes,” he answered between bites. “Do you think his people will be strong enough to be a force when the time comes?”
He made a good point. If all of Gemond looked like their king, there was no way they could fight soon.
“So what’s our other option?”
“We have no other option.” He took another crunching bite of the carrot, his dark gaze resting on me once more. He heaved a long breath and closed his eyes as he reclined in the tub, resting his head on the edge.
The water steamed, and I was reminded of a time not that long ago when he’d warmed my bath water in his tower. I fanned myself quickly while he wasn’t looking.
“May I ask you something?” I asked, glancing around the space for a chair. I settled for a towel on the stone floor. The only other space was on the edge of the bath, and that was asking for trouble.
“Will you tell me about the Drae?” I asked.
Tyrrik’s face smoothed. He volleyed, “What do you want to know?”
“About our powers. Like you can breathe fire; somehow you warm up the bathwater. You can read my mind. You’re stronger than me—”
“You’re faster, remember?” he said with a smile.
“Yes, which is probably the most important skill,” I grumbled. “But what else? You can pull the shadows to you and become invisible. Can I do that?”
He shook his head. “Probably not. The male acquires all of the skills necessary to protect. In our culture”—he paused at my outraged growl—“that has always been the way.”
“What if the male dies and the female is alone?”
“That never used to happen. Most mates die when their other half passes on, so that is a moot point.”
I shrugged. “The emperor has female Drae who were mated, doesn’t he?”
Tyrrik shook his head, his expression darkening. “Only the ones who were single survived the trip to Azule.”
“Well, I think everyone needs the ability to protect themselves,” I said.
“You will not need for protection with me here.”
“You won’t need my foot up your butt, but it could still happen.” Somehow, I knew pointing out to Tyrrik that I’d literally been protecting him for most of a week was a bad idea. “I’m only good for giving you an energy boost? That’s it? My magical Drae power?”
“Everything you do is magical,” he murmured in a rough voice. “Drae were the protectors of the realm. We only fought to preserve the peace for the humans. Drae are naturally a peaceful species. You do not possess the weapons I have because you are pure . . . you are beauty . . . you are worth dying for. The females of our kind are revered; they are more precious than any treasure, which is why the males spend years collecting a stash to give to their mates. We do not give it to her because this will make her rich. We collect and give her these things because this fulfills a need she has and makes her happy—because we know doing so will settle an instinct within her.” He pinned me with his heated gaze. “You are my reason for being, my purpose, my world. I would do anything for you. Anything.”
I couldn’t look away. I couldn’t believe he’d said all of those raw, honest things. My breath hitched as my stomach erupted into butterflies. I laughed nervously and tore my gaze from his. I couldn’t handle so much emotion when I’d only just decided to let him in my head. I hadn’t said I’d mate with him yet. These were courting words, words he wanted me to return. “Where do you come up with these lines?”
He frowned. “You don’t like what I say to you?”
“No. I mean, yes, kinda. Also, no.” I was being stupid, and it didn’t help that Tyrrik was sitting up, distracting me with his naked chest again. “Here,” I said, standing up. I grabbed the towel and shoved it at him. “I can’t think straight with you in the tub.”
“If you joined me, you wouldn’t need to worry about whether to join me or not.”
I gave him a withering glare and shook the towel. “Not going to happen today. Tyrrik, I know I said you can be in my head, but this might be too fast. I haven’t decided . . .” I trailed off helplessly.
He tossed the carrot top to the ground and grabbed the towel. I know, Khosana. But you did ask.
You could’ve told me a story about how the first Drae was created from mortar and horse dung under the twin moons. I spun my back to him, the water splashing and moving as he stood. A moment later, I felt him behind me.
“You really don’t like my compliments?” he asked, his breath warm on my neck.
“It’s like you’re trying . . .” To pressure me. But that wasn’t really it. Everything he said sounded perfect, effortless, but . . . “I don’t know what to say back to things like that.”
He trailed his hand down my arm, and his heat licked my skin. I froze. My breath hitched. The gates be
tween our minds were wide open, and his yearning pulsed through me until I couldn’t tell if the emotion was his or mine.
“I love when you blush,” he said, brushing his fingertips up my neck. “It drives me near madness.”
I arched to give him better access.
“I love when your skin touches mine,” he continued, his thumb stroking the skin above my collarbone. “It is a sensual gift.” He stepped closer, his body fitting to mine.
“I love when your desire pulls me to you,” he said, brushing his lips to my neck. “Your smell changes, deepens; like flowers and sunshine.”
I said silently what I was too scared to say aloud. Is that just the mate bond doing that to me? He pulled me closer, and I shut my eyes as I fought to gain control of the desire. I didn’t want to be with him because of some stupid bond. I wanted our emotions to be real, but how could I even know what was real when this was all I felt when I was near him?
“What we share is real, Khosana,” he murmured. “There is nothing that makes more sense than what lies between us. If I could choose anyone, I would choose you. I would pick you out of a crowd of thousands. Your Drae calls to me. Please, my love, please . . .” He reached a hand around and rested it at the base of my throat, spanning his fingers above my breasts.
“Tyrrik,” I gasped.
He turned me, and I had no thought to resist as his arms circled my waist and pulled me flush to him. I pressed my hands to his chest. His heart was racing, beating in the same erratic rhythm as mine. I slid my arms up until my hands were around his neck and guided him to my mouth.
“I love when you whisper my name. My real name,” he said, and he crushed his lips to mine.
Whatever this mate bond forced upon us, there was no doubt in my mind of Tyrrik’s desire for me or his joy when we touched.
Heat pulsed between us. Our lips and bodies tangled with a frantic edge I’d never felt before. His lips were soft and warm, and he tasted of nectar. The nectar I’d made for him. He coaxed my lips open and brushed his tongue against mine, pulling me closer. I threaded my hands through his dark hair and stood on my tiptoes to meet his hunger with my own. He pulled away suddenly and I made a sound of protest until his lips pressed to my neck. I arched again as he trailed kisses from my ear to my chest.
