Black Crown (The Darkest Drae Book 3)

by Kelly St Clare

  I shifted the talons on my right hand, driving them deep into my thigh, just like I’d done when I’d almost killed my aunt, and then I rotated my entire torso as I drove my talons back, slashing through my father’s tunic and deep into his chest.

  He stumbled to the ground and then straightened and shook his head. “I merely wanted to watch. Your lack of trust is disheartening. I had no choice but to incapacitate him to win, but that does not mean I want his death.”

  I glared at Draedyn. “Liar.”

  I waited for my Phaetyn blood to poison my father. Kamini was now unguarded, as was Dyter. Soon enough, Draedyn would succumb to my Phaetyn power while I stabilized Tyrrik. Soon.

  Draedyn shook his head, still upright. “Stand up.”

  I ignored him and sent another wave of power into Tyrrik, my chest swelling as he clung to life. Hang on, Tyrrik. Please don’t leave me here alone.

  “Have it your way,” Draedyn said calmly. “I think we have everyone here.”

  My flash of confidence waned. Why wasn’t Draedyn reacting to my blood? Maybe because of his age it would take longer to affect him, but I knew it was just a matter of time. Distraction . . . I could do that. I’d play along. “Everyone for what?”

  “Everyone you care about, heir-daughter,” he said and then laughed, a cruel grating sound. “Did you think your blood would affect me? Why do you think I made you poison your aunt? I had to know my risk. Now, Queen Lahr, if you will . . .”

  W-what? My mind reeled, and I struggled to process what that meant with the activity in front of me. Queen Lahr? The queen of Azule? There was no queen here . . . Someone moved, and I glanced at the Veraldian slave. Her makeup was smeared across her face, but her eyes gleamed. How had I ever thought she was a Veraldian slave? I blinked and remembered the woman standing next to Mily, just before Draedyn disemboweled the former queen. Queen Lahr yanked a blade from inside her tunic and stabbed Dyter.

  My world stopped.

  38

  The only man I’d ever considered a father gasped. Dyter’s hands rose to rest on the blade protruding from his chest. As his knees buckled, my vision blurred.

  “No,” I screamed, leaping at the Azule queen. I raked my talons not only across her body, but all the way through her. I blinked as her blood sprayed me and then spilled to the ground, mixing with Dyter’s, and her body dropped in large chunks to the dirt.

  I fell to Dyter’s side, shrieking for help. “Kamini!”

  The Phaetyn princess screamed as Dyter writhed on the ground. I reached for her as Draedyn sliced a short sword streaked with black Drae blood through Kamini’s leg. Blood gushed from the wound in her thigh, and she crawled toward me, her eyes wide with terror.

  “Kamini, please, you have to help him,” I begged. “You have to heal him—”

  Black lines webbed her face, and her movements slowed. “Ryn,” she whispered, her voice hoarse. “You need—”

  I choked on my emotions as a fresh wave of agony tore through me. “No!”

  I reeled to see my father, still alive, standing over my mate. The emperor held a long knife in his hand, dripping afresh with Kamini’s Phaetyn blood. He stood over Tyrrik and met my gaze.

  Emerald surrounded me, and I screamed as I scrambled for my powers. It was happening too quick, all at once, everything in a mess. Draedyn’s power pinned me.

  Ryn! Tyrrik shouted, his voice echoing from far away. Be ready!

  I blinked through the crushing weight of my father’s power and watched as he drove the blade through Tyrrik’s abdomen.

  “No!” I mouthed as Draedyn’s force flooded into me.

  Onyx strands chased the emerald green down; Tyrrik’s strength coursed through my veins. Tyrrik pushed his energy into my body, bolstering me on his deathbed. Tyrrik’s power slowed to a trickle, and I gasped, unable to even clutch my chest as I felt our bond wither. Tyrrik’s onyx bands turned to threads then tendrils, fading into wisps. Tears spilled down my cheeks, and my heart gushed with agony as I watched the wisps turn to smoke. Then the smoke floated up into the sky to be lost among the dust and ash.

  Tyrrik! I screamed, throwing up my defenses. Tyrrik!

  No, there still had to be time. My soul, my very being couldn’t accept anything else.

  I filled my mind with my moss-green power as Draedyn pummeled his emerald tendrils against my mind. And an epiphany blasted through me.

  Draedyn shouldn’t have ever been able to get through my veil. He shouldn’t be standing before me now after I’d stabbed him. Drae repelled Phaetyn and vice versa, but he’d never had too much of a problem with me after my Drae transformation. I stared at my moss-green powers as though seeing them for the first time. I’d always seen my powers as different entities, my green Phaetyn power totally different than my lapis lazuli Drae. But Phaetyn powers were gold, not green. Whatever I possessed once, before my Drae transformation, had changed. I no longer had pure Phaetyn power. Blue and gold . . . made green. My Phaetyn power was a mixture, tainted by my Drae nature. That’s what he’d meant.

  Just like I couldn’t kill Tyrrik with my blood because of our bond, my blood hadn’t killed my father. Draedyn was my kin, which meant we had a bond. Whoever I was bonded with had some immunity to my Phaetyn blood.

  I needed . . .

  I writhed with the force of Draedyn’s energy. He left the blade pinning my mate to the ground and walked to me.

  “I knew your mother had lied, and when the Phaetyn queen died, I knew you would live. But I was content to bide my time. I’ve bided my time since the very beginning. Baeyn refused to see it, but Drae were never meant to serve. I was meant to rule. I was always meant to rule them all, Ryn. And you will help me.”

  I shook my head. “You’re wrong. It’s why your brother wouldn’t give you help in your sick pursuit.”

  “Aedyn?” He laughed and then bent down to look me in the eye as he spoke his next words. “I am Aedyn. I don’t know what story of our history you’ve heard, but let me tell you the truth. I left the Drae. After millenium, I found there was a difference between peace and pleasure. A difference between strength and power. I left. Baeyn and I disagreed, so I left.”

  I clutched my head as his anger beat against me.

  “And when there is no one else, daughter,” Draedyn continued in his calm voice, “you will turn to me. I will be all you have left. And you will be all I need.”

  I couldn’t access my powers. He had me trapped.

  “The interesting thing when you’re the oldest of a mostly extinct species, you can say whatever you want about your kind, and there’s no one wise enough to refute it. You can create the history you want, the very world you want. You just have to be patient. And I am very patient.” He nudged Tyrrik’s body. “I’ll tell you a secret, heir-daughter . . . you won’t die when your mate does. I didn’t die, though at the time, I wished I had. You’ll get over it and be stronger alone, just like I am.”

  I wasn’t stronger alone. I didn’t want to be stronger alone. I wanted Tyrrik by my side, his strength and his kindness, his humor and his patience. I wanted his arms around me and his love inside me. Without my mate, I felt like half the person I was meant to be. I tried to move, but I couldn’t break through. Tyrrik, I sobbed. Tyrrik . . .

  Draedyn crouched next to me. “One day, you’ll become everything I want you to be. I will make you into an indestructible weapon. No one will stand in my way ever again.”

  Hatred burned deep within me, and I stoked the flame as I struggled against the slithering green. I needed to find a break, just a small one. But only two things had ever been able to break Draedyn’s powerful hold.

  “I bet your mate begged for death just to be away from you,” I whispered to Draedyn, wielding the first. Distraction.

  He blinked, and I barely processed that despite his words, he still loved his mate. I focused, gathering the onyx power Tyrrik had given me, the second. My mate’s power. I shoved through the oily green force pinning me down.


  I grabbed the blade at my waist and twisted as I drove the blood-coated knife from the Phaetyn in the dungeon deep into Draedyn’s heart. “My blood may not work,” I said through gritted teeth, “but I’m not the only Phaetyn. And they all hate you.”

  The emperor reeled back, falling to the ground.

  I leaped to my feet only to kneel on his chest as I pushed the blade deep. I followed the receding emerald power into Draedyn’s core while I pulled my energy, not separated but coiled about each other, blue and moss-green, and then I shrieked, blasting all of it at Draedyn’s core.

  Thunder rolled overhead, and Draedyn bellowed in pain, his hands scrabbling for purchase on the blade. Smiling maniacally, I knocked his hands away, shoving the blade in farther, driving the weapon all the way in to its hilt.

  He gasped, eyes wide, and I soaked up his demise, vindicated by knowing that his death was right. I would never tire of seeing the life drain from the man who had hurt so many.

  “You will never take from anyone again,” I snarled. I hurled another blast of power at the monster who’d ruled Draeconia for centuries. Over and over again, I pummeled him, and Draedyn’s emerald core splintered and then shattered, and I nearly fell forward as it evaporated, giving me unfettered access to his mind.

  “Daughter,” he choked.

  I wanted no part of him. Especially not his sick mind. “I am no daughter of yours.”

  I collected everything left of myself and Tyrrik, and for us and all of those I loved, I blasted my power into Draedyn, wave after wave, not stopping even when his body numbed and his thoughts ceased. I continued to beat him even when his mind was void and his soul had departed to whatever black abyss it might belong. I didn’t stop my assault until every last spark within me knew he was gone.

  I rose, my legs trembling, and stood, staring down at the man who’d ruled in terror, his eyes glassy, forever fixed unseeing at the sky overhead. Yet there was no triumph, only a hollow ache in my chest, a void nothing would ever fill.

  Turning, I looked at the still form of my mate. My soul reached for him with trembling fingers, searching over and through his body and soul for any wisp of onyx energy remaining. My hunt started tentatively, afraid to confirm, desperate to negate.

  Chaos moved around me, sliding through my awareness. Lani dropping to Kamini’s side, a small group of Phaetyn sprinting to Dyter, rings of Gemondians, Veraldians, men, women, kings, and queens gathering in silent circles to stare upon the emperor’s body.

  And to witness my grief.

  A wracking sob worked up my throat as I stumbled to my mate. Another cry followed the first as I fell to my knees by his side. I ran my hands over his body, my heart rending when my palms rested on his still chest. His silent heart. I threw back my head and screamed in agony. I screamed until my throat was torn raw.

  I would scream until my last day in this cold, hard realm.

  Tyrrik was gone.

  The intensity with which the Drae studied me cocooned us, and the rest of the world disappeared.

  “You can see me.” Tyrrik studied me, his gaze intense and penetrating. In a low voice, almost to himself, he murmured, “It can’t be.”

  I blinked and then glanced around, smiling as I realized our location. We were in Verald, in the courtyard inside Harvest Zone Seven. This was the exact place where we’d first met.

  I lifted a hand to my mate’s face. “Of course I can see you. And you can see me.”

  He brought his hand up in tiny increments, his expression rapt as he circled the back of my neck. His warm palm connected with my clammy skin, and fire licked where we touched, the warmth spreading from where his hand tangled in my hair, sending tendrils of pulsing energy all over me.

  I closed my eyes, basking in his onyx power. I sighed as his dark bands slid and danced over my lapis lazuli swirls, our energies twisting and binding with one another. This was right. This was how we should be. Together. I fell into him, pressing my body against his length.

  He ripped his hand back and stepped away, glaring at his palm with a look of betrayal as I fell to my knees.

  “Tyrrik?” I said in confusion, getting back to my feet.

  He swore long and hard again in the guttural Drae language, shock tinging his voice. But he knew me. He knew me, and I knew him.

  I squeezed my eyes closed. “What’s happening, my love?”

  “Where are you going right now?” he asked in a different tone. Gone was the shock. Something very different took its place in his expression. His gaze darted behind him, and then he turned toward the fountain, scanning the dry space.

  “Where am I going?” I asked, completely confused. “Don’t you mean where are we going?”

  I blinked and the memory disappeared, swallowed in a heavy gloom, and Tyrrik pinned me with his dark gaze. He shook his head, his lips turning down in a sad look of pity.

  I rubbed my chest, trying to rid myself of a hollow ache spreading through me.

  “I know where I am,” my mate said.

  My love. I reached for the bottom of his black aketon, fingers shaking. Why was he talking like this? “You’re here with me,” I whispered urgently. “You’re right here.”

  He untangled my fingers, brushing gentle caresses over my skin as he removed my hold on him. I reached frantically for him. “Please.”

  Tyrrik stepped back, and I followed. But every time, I made to close the distance between us, he moved away again, just out of my reach. Why couldn’t I reach him?

  “Tyrrik,” I said, my voice rising as panic clawed up my throat. “Tyrrik, come back with me.”

  “Oh, my love. I cannot. You know I cannot. I am here, and you are there.” Tears trekked down over the planes of his features.

  My eyes burned, tears spilling over the brim, and I dashed at them if only to see him better. “What are you saying?” I asked, clutching my head. “Stop saying such things.”

  “Move on, Ryn.”

  “Stop!” I screamed.

  “I’m already gone.”

  I fell to my knees, raking my nails through the stone. “Stop,” I pleaded. “Stop!” I repeated my chant without break, rocking back and forth as I wept. “I won’t let you leave me. I won’t let you go.”

  He reached for me, dropping to the ground to pull me into his arms.

  Is that what it took for him to touch me? If so, I’d gladly repeat my anguish until my last breath.

  He held tight, his long fingers encircling the entire width of my bicep as he pulled back to look me in the eye.

  “Do you want to die?” he whispered. He leaned forward and traced his nose up the side of my face as he inhaled me. He pressed his lips to my ear and said, “You are not meant for death, my love.”

  Shivers erupted then, and a fierce desire took the place of my shaking sobs.

  “You need to be gone. Right now.”

  “I’ll never leave you,” I swore. “Never.” I stared into his face that not so long ago, in this very harvest zone, I’d seen as stone-cold. But now I knew better. The wild edge to his eyes was fear. For me. Always for me.

  My mate had always thought of me.

  “Please, Tyrrik? I’ll . . .” I stared up into his face, tracing his skin with my fingers, my heart expanding. I had no quip. Nothing but raw honesty would do here. “I love you. There is no one else, and there never will be. I need you with me. I want you . . . Please?”

  My throat clogged as he pulled away, my hands falling to my lap. But as I bowed my head in defeat, a thread of onyx power brushed against my palm. I closed my fist around the wisp of midnight, hope tickling within my chest, and I tenderly wove my lapis Drae power around the onyx strand and opened my heart to my mate.

  The warm darkness swallowed us both.

  “You’ve already left me,” my mate whispered.

  And then fire erupted, encasing my body. As the blaze raged, consuming me, I wept. More painful than the physical burn was the realization that his flame was a myriad of yellows, oranges, and reds.


  A normal flame.

  Not the lapis lazuli blue that he’d always breathed in my presence.

  Not our flame.

  Yet I wouldn’t release the onyx tendril and let him leave me forever.

  39

  I flailed, fighting off invisible flame as I wrenched upright, sending black sand flying everywhere. The sand was hot, like Drae fire. Too hot.

  Drak, I rubbed a hand over my stinging eyes and then reached for my nearby waterskin—a must in the desert at the very southern point of the realm. After a year here, I’d learned the wisdom at having one handy. I squeezed the remaining liquid into my mouth, swallowing painfully, one foot still inside the horrible remnants of my nightmare.

  I sighed and got to my feet then hobbled to the top of a black dune. Looking out over the endless desert, my gaze fell over the tents spattering the area beneath me. The bohemian material was strung out to provide shelter from the beating sun, but all in all, the Drae liked minimizing the layer between them and the twin moons, especially at night.

  I didn’t blame them.

  I scoured over the area, and my attention snagged on a lithe Drae as he pulled off his aketon.

  He leaned over and returned to his effort, digging what appeared to be a massive hole in the ground. His tall frame was all lean muscle, and his skin, the color of Mum’s burnt sugar, smoothed when he stretched. Although currently, he dug through the sand and rock with his talons. Sweat glistened and beaded, rolling down his back, disappearing into the top of his black trousers.

  He was perfection.

  Having a good look? Tyrrik asked.

  I grinned, not the slightest bit ashamed of being caught. Well, if you’re going to put on a show . . .

  Tyrrik wiggled his hips slightly, and I snorted, his antics chasing away the last remnants of my bad dream—as he’d no doubt intended.

  Same nightmare? he asked even though he already knew the answer.