by Raye Wagner
“Uvijek sam te voljela,” he growled. I have always loved you.
His hands tangled in my skirt, and I grabbed either side of his torso, my mind clouded with a thick haze. Tyrrik backed me to the wall, only breaking our kiss to whisper in my ear. My entire body shivered with want for him.
“Mistress moons!” Dyter sputtered.
I screamed, jumping a meter off the ground.
“Oh my stars,” Dyter hollered as he stepped back out the open door. “My eyes. Oh stars. I can’t . . . I can’t unsee that.”
Tyrrik pulled away as I dropped my skirt which had apparently migrated during recent events. As I did so, I heard a series of clinks.
Drak!
35
Dyter and I froze and Tyrrik raised his eyebrows, a slow smile spreading as he looked at the three beautiful sapphires on the stone floor.
Dyter’s lips dipped into disapproving lines. “Please tell me you’re not stealing from our host, who is also a king.”
“I wouldn’t do that,” I protested weakly.
We all stared at the glinting gems again.
Tyrrik wrapped his hand around my waist, and my blush intensified due to Dyter’s presence as the Drae spoke. “Ryn is indulging in her instincts.”
I had a feeling I didn’t want to know anything about this, but I felt braver after our kiss. “What does it mean? This shiny obsession. Really mean. I want the full scoop this time.” Why had I already assumed I wouldn’t be able to crush them in my teeth and spit shiny daggers into my foe’s eyes?
“Your horde is for our family. By collecting precious objects and keeping them safe, you are showing me you would make a good mother to our children.”
My attention caught on good mother and children, and my mind blanked. I edged out of Tyrrik’s grip in a subtle movement no one probably noticed.
Dyter chuckled and mumbled something about family jewels. He straightened, grinning at my slack face, and said, “If you’re done using the facilities, may I?”
Tyrrik exited the restroom. I blinked, mouth open, and swooped to pick up my pretties and Tyrrik’s discarded carrot top. Collecting sapphires and rubies and gold stuff didn’t mean a thing. They were an investment. Carrying them was a smart business choice.
I trailed out of the bathroom, unresponsive to Dyter’s light pat on the shoulder.
“How many have you taken?” Tyrrik asked, plucking one of the jewels from my hand.
“That’s mine!” A fierce protective instinct gripped me. I whirled on him, throwing the carrot top at him.
“Ryn,” he said, his voice muffled with laughter. He held the gem out to me. “Please, forgive me.”
I grabbed my sapphire from his hand and sauntered past him. “Don’t take my jewels.”
Dyter came out of the bathroom, and his gaze went from Tyrrik to me. “Enough tomfoolery. We all need our rest. Tomorrow we need to search for the other Phaetyn girl. The emperor likely knows we are here, so we cannot linger before traveling to Azule.”
* * *
“I always knew you’d be powerful, my Khosana,” Tyrrik whispered to me, tracing his fingertip over my face.
Now I was his princess, was I? The Drae had boundary issues. I smiled as the last bit of sleepiness rolled away. I stretched and opened my eyes to see Tyrrik sitting beside me, his dark gaze fixed on my face.
“What do you mean?” I asked. “Me tackling you with the carrot greens?”
“Maybe, or perhaps I’m telling you that no one in this Realm can do what you do,” he said. “Let’s go have some breakfast and go to the garden.”
“I thought we were going to find Kamini’s twin. What time is it? How long did I sleep?”
“It’s late afternoon. But you needed your sleep. You’ve pushed yourself too hard for several . . . months. You needed the extra rest.”
“That’s true. Even after the castle, I had to build the tavern business up.” I yawned, stretching again.
Tyrrik stood, giving me space to get off the narrow bed. Maybe I should suggest pushing the beds together before we next slept; these beds were barely wide enough for one person, and falling asleep took several hours last night without Tyrrik next to me. Even knowing he was on the other side of the room wasn’t enough for my Drae to be comfortable though. Clearly, I was too exhausted to sleepwalk over there.
“Our bond feels stronger,” I blurted as realization hit me. “When we kissed in the bathroom yesterday, that intensified the bond, didn’t it?”
I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. Tyrrik certainly hadn’t forced the kiss to happen; I’d practically jumped him. No, I wasn’t mad. I felt like I should be mad, but I . . . wasn’t. I was just, still, scared.
I gazed up at Tyrrik and saw worry cross his face before he smoothed his features. But he couldn’t hide what he felt through our bond. Not now that the gates were open, and everything seemed to have focused since last night. I could feel his panic, though the panic didn’t seem in response to my reaction but over the intensity itself.
He took a deep breath, and after his measured exhale, he said, “It will intensify every time we are intimate.”
I tilted my head, studying the Drae. Something about that felt right, even if part of my rational mind screamed I couldn’t handle much more intensity. I knew he wanted me to be his mate, but something was off. I puzzled for a moment before asking, “Does that scare you? Our bond growing stronger?”
His fear pulsed through our bond, and I waited for him to explain though I could already guess at what bothered him. Considering his past with a blood oath, and what he’d confessed so far, it seemed reasonable for him to be afraid.
Tyrrik stiffened, his gaze dipping to the floor. Several moments of silence passed before he sat on the edge of the bed again. He scooped my hands in his, bringing them to his lap. With his other hand, he traced the back of mine as he spoke, “I am not afraid of our bond.”
Well, there went my guess. I thought he’d been scared of our bond feeling like a binding promise he had no control over.
He met my gaze, his features open, vulnerable. “My fear is you will see I am not worthy of you and that you will refuse to be my mate.”
“Why would you . . .” I already knew why. I’d screamed my hatred of him not so long ago, right in his face; and perhaps it hadn’t been anything he hadn’t deserved for manipulating me, but I’d been too hurt at the time to admit he couldn’t have acted any other way. He’d hurt me, yes, however he’d also risked everything to save me. I knew now that manipulating my feelings, knowing he would hurt me eventually and if the plan succeeded I may never speak to him again, all of that hurt him just as much as it hurt me. If there had been another way, he would have taken it.
He’d made mistakes, horrible, gruesome, terrible ones. And so had I.
I leaned over and kissed his cheek.
“I know you don’t want to take it slowly; that you want my acceptance today, right now,” I whispered.
He pursed his lips and his eyes widened, but he said nothing to deny what I’d accused. He’d been sincere and direct with me, and he deserved the same.
“I’m afraid, too,” I admitted.
I couldn’t tell him that I wanted to cling to the remnants of the person I’d been when my mother was alive. Perhaps he didn’t need me to verbalize my fear with our strengthened bond because he didn’t push. He just nodded and raised my hand to his lips, placing a gentle kiss there before releasing his hold.
“If you want to take it slow, we’ll take it slow,” he said, mostly ungrudgingly “When . . .” He stopped and ground out, “If you decide you want me . . . I will honor whatever decision you make.”
The tightness coiled in my chest, loosened, and then flitted away. I stared at Tyrrik, a fluttering, slightly bewildered sensation making me give him a shy smile.
Tyrrik squeezed my hand and then released it before standing. “Come now, my Princess. Let’s go see what you can do with your powers. Then, we’ll find the Pointy.”
I stood and, after a moment of hesitation, slipped my hand into his. Together we started toward the door.
A moment later, Dyter burst into the room.
I screeched and dropped Tyrrik’s hand like it was a hot potato.
“There’s smoke coming from the eastern range,” Dyter said, his eyes bright. “King Zakai’s scouts just came in with the report.”
Tyrrik reached over and threaded his fingers back with mine. “And?”
“Smoke?” I asked at the same time.
“Druman,” Dyter replied. “The scouting parties we saw on the way here. They’re lighting fires out there on the mountains.”
“How do you know it’s Druman?” Tyrrik asked.
Dyter gave him a pointed look. “Who else would it be?”
My mind caught up to Dyter’s. The Druman had been gathered around the areas of growth, likely searching for someone, especially after Tyrrik torched the search party a couple days ago.
Tyrrik squeezed my hand and followed my train of thought. “They’re looking for us, even if they don’t know it’s us.”
I began pacing. “But they weren’t burning stuff when we saw them before. Why—”
Horror dawned on me, and I spun to look at Dyter.
He nodded. “I think they’ve found her. Or, at least, suspect she’s close. I can’t think of any other reason why they’re burning the areas of growth.”
Tyrrik’s face hardened. “They’re trying to flush her out of hiding.” He glanced over at me. “The Phaetyn need her, and we need the Phaetyn. I’ve got to risk going out there to find her.”
“We,” I corrected, rounding on the Drae. “We risk it.”
“We don’t have time to argue.”
“No, we don’t, so stop. This thing goes two ways. I’ll either go with you now, or I follow you later.” I gritted my teeth and waited. If he said no, I was going to be so pissed.
His eyes glinted.
“We don’t know that they’ve found her,” Dyter interjected. “But at the very least, you need to go out and make sure. We need to scout it out.”
Both Tyrrik and I ignored the older man, locked in our own battle of wills.
“If you go out there, I do too,” I pressed, taking a predatory step toward him.
Several tense moments of silence passed, but I wasn’t about to give in on this. Whatever protection ignorance provided wasn’t worth it. Not anymore. Never again.
Tyrrik finally said, “I don’t like it, but I understand.”
I opened my mouth to protest, and then his words registered. I tried to play my gaping mouth off as a smile, but he wasn’t the least bit fooled. Still, he was kind enough not to say anything.
Ryn: 1 Tyrrik: 1
I liked that kind of score.
* * *
The dark gray smoke billowed into the sky, making everything smell like singed wood. The blackened expanse stretched past where the Phaetyn’s flourishing foliage had once been and into the scraggly trees and brush. Twisted and charred trunks jutted into the air from the scorched earth, their appearance far too similar to the rocks outside Zivost.
Anything?
Tyrrik asked his question casually, but I could feel his worry seeping through our tentative bond. Worry was only slightly better than anger, but baby steps were good. But we’d seen no Druman on the ground since leaving Gemond. Not that I’d expected to see lots of them, but we’d been flying for almost an hour, and there were none.
Let’s get closer to the fire. The crackling and chomping of the roaring flames lay just ahead, and the heat and smoke spread into the sky.
Druman, Tyrrik said.
I can’t smell them. I couldn’t smell anything besides the acrid smoke. It burned my eyes and singed my nose. But as we lifted over the final range between us and the fire, I saw them.
Dozens of the emperor’s spawn crawling over the rocks and through the low-lying trees. Their unwashed stench wafted into the air, wet leather and body odor, making my stomach churn. In their wake, another fire raged just below, the orange-and-red flames devouring the small copse of plant life. The men shouted and waved at one another in a cut up version of the Drae language I could only understand a few words of. The Druman must have created their own dialect.
They’re headed toward the next mountain range.
You can understand that? Obviously. Is the emperor here? I asked nervously, looking back over my shoulder.
Draedyn’s not here. At least, not anywhere close, or I’d feel him. You probably would, too, now. Besides, personally coming doesn’t seem to be his style. He’s been using his Druman first.
We flew over the Druman, my insides going cold as we passed. That’s way more than just a Phaetyn search party. You don’t think they’re here for us . . . do you?
They probably all came together when they picked up on her scent. But we shouldn’t discount that this force was likely meant for us too. He’s testing the strength of his enemies.
Yes, I remembered. A solid tactical plan: Test the enemy’s strength to know how much force will be required to crush them. Even this high up, being near the Druman made my heart race and my chest tighten in panic. I pushed back the fear, but I couldn’t make it go away.
They won’t be looking up, Princess. And the smoke will keep us hidden.
I pressed forward, determined not to let my fear dictate my actions.
The narrow valley was rocky with little visible vegetation. We flew through the mountains, scanning for evidence of habitation.
There are enough down there to take out a small army. Mistress moons, Tyrrik! They’re focused on that next range. Look, the ones at the front are running. A shiver ran down the long length of my spine. They’ve found her.
Both of us pumped our wings and flattened our necks, streamlining our bodies to gain speed. I narrowed my eyes to try and see through the smoke. Failing that, I tuned in my ears. The thump-thump of heavy boots on the packed ground and crackling of the blaze below overrode everything else.
She’s over the other side, Tyrrik said. All the way through the pass.
How can you tell?
I’ve had longer to practice my fine tuning. She just gasped, and even though she’s running, her step is light. I can’t see her though.
We swept over the next range, and I furiously scanned the area. The smoke was slowly funneling through the pass, but the air was still fairly clear on this side.
A small scraggly thicket of trees with a narrow stream on one side took up most of the valley; the gray cedars butted up against the rocky slope. A golden web was visible in the trees, and a wisp of movement was all that gave away the Phaetyn’s location.
Even with her hiding and using her ancestral powers, the Druman were nearly upon her. The Phaetyn was so small in comparison to the muscled frames of the emperor’s mules. They surged through the pass and spilled into the valley. The distance separating the two enemy species shrunk, and trepidation crawled through my Drae.
Tyrrik swore, already descending. We’ll not get her out without a fight, Ryn. I’m going down—
Tyrrik, no! There’s too many of them.
I’ll hold them off. You can do this. Get in, pick up the Phaetyn, and get out. It’s the only way, Princess. If you want to save her, we’ll need to do it this way.
He was right. We had only seconds before the Druman caught up with her, a minute at most. He was right, but . . . Can you fight that many? I could come down with you. I—
Not yet, he said, continuing his descent. Promise me you won’t come down until it’s possible to get away with her safely.
For a moment all I could process was Tyrrik’s panic. I stared at the ground, revulsion’s sour taste on the back of my tongue and burning the back of my throat. There had to be close to one hundred Druman down there, and Tyrrik was going to fight them.
He flattened himself, angling his body almost vertically above the front line of Druman.
Promise me, he pressed, still thinking
more of me than the foe he was about to fight. I won’t be able to concentrate if you’re down there.
I could feel the truth of his words through our bond, but I hesitated, realizing what that promise might mean.
Could I really stay up here if the tide turned against Tyrrik?
36
He was nearly upon them. Please, stay up there, Princess. Be my eyes. Promise me.
I beat my wings, neck twisting frantically. He’d asked, no begged, for my word three times, and I was desperate to calm him before he started fighting. I promise, I threw at him, the words registering only after I’d said them. I hurried to add, but please, promise me you’ll stay alive.
He didn’t answer as he let out an almighty roar. He pulled his front half up as he landed in the valley with a deep boom that echoed through the range. Without pause, he ripped through the front line of Druman with his talons, severing several bodies in half and fatally wounding many more. Blood spilled over the rocky terrain, and Tyrrik advanced.
One Druman flung himself at Tyrrik, at my mate, and I instinctively screamed in fury. The ease with which Tyrrik batted the Druman away did nothing to settle my panic. There was the better part of a hundred Druman down there, and they had swarmed into the valley.
My mind went crazy as I watched. Tyrrik may be a near invincible Drae, but he could be overrun, he could be hurt badly enough to weaken him. He could be taken, imprisoned, tortured, and killed. My thoughts made me sick. The emperor surely had access to Phaetyn blood.
Tyrrik still had weaknesses.
He stamped below me and inhaled. Molten red appeared between the scales in his chest a scant moment before he extended his neck and spewed jets of flame through the small valley toward the pass. The fire licked the trees, and the crackle of its frenzied appetite sizzled in the air. Warmth billowed up, caressing my underbelly. Only the Druman nearest Tyrrik were caught by the flames, and while their screams of agony were short lived, the emperor’s Druman had clearly expected the fire. Many of them scaled the rock walls, dodging the flames altogether. These crossbreeds were fast like Jotun had been, faster for having the emperor’s lineage.
