So lashing out here wouldn’t help me right now.
I sneered back at the Druman and had the satisfaction of witnessing a quiver of uncertainty momentarily unsettle his smirking façade. If the emperor wasn’t his father, the Druman wouldn’t stand a chance, and we both knew it.
Druman got off on violence at the best of times, but my father’s minions could be a real danger to me if they became vindictive like Jotun, jealous of Draedyn’s attention on me. While Irdelron had raised Tyrrik’s Druman to be violent, Jotun’s jealousy drove him to be excessively cruel. Though my half-bros couldn’t kill me, if they managed to pin or tie me down, I could be tortured for a long time, possibly eternity, if properly restrained.
My angst and frustration morphed to simmering anger as the Druman continued to loom around the outskirts of the room in silence, smirking, leering—grunting like animals, filthy and vile.
Instigating a fight wouldn’t help me right now, so clenching my fists, I stepped to go around the two blocking the door. After the day I’d had, if I couldn’t obliterate my father, I needed the privacy of my chamber. Or even just a plain ol’ empty corner would do.
The two Druman shifted, continuing to bar my way.
“Not a great idea,” I said, clenching my teeth. “If you don’t move, I’ll have to kill you.” If I hadn’t been itching to sink my talons into them, the extension of my father, I may have tried harder to restrain myself. I wanted to fight, to do anything I could to hurt him, and the Druman had fought for him and would again at his whim. Destroying a few now would be less to kill later. I leaned forward and whispered, “What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue? Or do you move as slow as you speak?”
Instigator? Yeah, just like my mum. Before my Drae transformation, I couldn’t fathom Jotun’s supernatural speed. Now, craving vengeance, my mind seemed to process their movements as if in slow motion. One raised his arm, lifting the end of his spear, and the other swung wide with his fist closed as I instinctively knew their trajectories. Aiming for my crotch and my face! Dirty move.
I wouldn’t have felt bad killing them before, but the talons were out now.
I crouched and stepped left, evading the strike, and grabbed the Druman’s spear. I yanked on the staff, and when he held fast, I jerked upward, snapping off a large piece. Spinning back toward the first mule, I plucked his dagger from his waist and sliced through the meaty part of my forearm. I turned the blade and sliced again and then dipped the jagged piece of wood into my blood before shoving it into the stomach of the Druman still holding the other end of the spear.
Kicking the now seizing mule to the side, I faced the rest of my foes with a grim smile. I had no idea how my instincts had improved, but I knew they had. Not only could I do this, I would.
Several of the other Druman drew weapons, and others tensed, but I had no time to analyze their hesitation.
To my left, the one who’d thrown the first punch reached for me, and I slid closer, taking advantage of the proximity to slit his throat.
He screamed, a gutteral bellow, and doubled over before slumping to the ground. Bent to retrieve the shortened spear, I dragged it over the closing wound and buried it in another Druman’s solar plexus.
My rage flared, and I ducked under a heavy swing and thrust the knife into the Druman’s armpit.
The sound of weapons being drawn made me smile because it indicated their admission to the fray of death. I yanked the blade from the dying Druman and sliced through my arm again. I would kill them all, every single one of them. For me, for the female Drae, the captured Phaetyns in this palace, and for the whole realm. These dark creatures had no place here.
I threw my head back and roared, a combination of challenge issued and accepted as the thrill of the fight burst through me. I yanked the broken spear from the Druman’s stomach, dipped it in my oozing wound, and then I spun and hurled the poisoned weapon. The wooden weapon grazed a mule before bouncing off the far wall. Not perfect, but death was death.
I was done waiting for them to come to me, done taking them one by one, so I moved. Twisting and spinning, I wound between the Druman, grunting when one of their hits connected, but my adrenaline sang with singular focus as I drew the dagger across their skin, poisoning them with my blood.
Phaetyn blood.
It would kill their Drae side. Some would die from their wounds now, but those that weren’t lucky would live, like Jotun, to be torn apart by those they’d abused. Justice.
I spun and cut, dipping the blade into my blood before striking at a Druman. Over and over. I sprinted around the room, knowing time was short, knowing I had to get to as many as possible before . . .
A roar shook the foundation of the palace.
Those still standing, including me, froze. The floor was littered with spasming Druman, black webs spreading beneath their skin as my Phaetyn blood poisoned them. Only three remained, and I leapt to finish them.
Pain exploded all down my right side, and bright lights burst behind my eyes. The momentary reprieve of being pushed through the room ended as I collided with a wall. Draedyn was my first and only thought as I crashed faster and harder into the graphite wall on the opposite side of the room. My mind couldn’t fathom the speed, and had a human watched, I doubted they would have seen anything until I fell from the wall to the ground in a crumpled, albeit smiling, heap.
Dad wasn’t happy with me. He picked me up by the back of my neck like a kitten.
Several of my bones were still broken, and I sagged in his grip. The coppery tang of my blood made me spit through my busted lip, but I lifted my gaze to meet my father’s and sucked in a breath at the endless rage still burning inside of them. My glib sorry, not sorry retort died on my lips.
“I got angry,” I said instead. Vague, but maybe it would work?
“You betrayed me,” Draedyn snarled. “You killed my Druman.”
Eek, maybe not. I’d pull on his heartstrings instead. “I don’t like Druman. They used to torture me.”
He shook me, his face still contorted with rage. “They made you stronger.”
“Yeah?” I scoffed, trying to ignore the bruising pressure of his fingertips digging into the bony protrusions of my neck. “What if I’d rather be untortured and weaker?”
Fury hung upon the emperor like a thin coat, like he’d washed with soap that had irritated his skin. Whatever my reasons for killing approximately two-dozen of his Druman, he would try to make me regret it. Not going to happen.
I hoped.
Draedyn didn’t lower me, continuing to stare into my watering eyes. “I had thought, my daughter, your ignorance may fade with time. Had hoped you would see we are not enemies, and yet . . . You just killed a sizeable number of my elite fighting force.”
“A sizeable number? How many are we talking?” Oops, too happy, Ryn. Pull back on the happiness.
Draedyn’s face screwed up, and no sooner had I felt relief from the release of his punishing grip than that small pain was replaced by the crushing impact against the far wall.
Wheezing, I rolled away from the wall but stayed on the ground. If he wanted to throw me again, he’d have to come pick me up.
“I am displeased, daughter.” His volume increased with his nearing footsteps. “I find myself wondering if it is not better to neutralize you until the—”
I flopped my head to the side to squint up at him, wondering why he’d cut off mid-sentence. The emperor had shifted, half turned toward the balcony, and his body tensed. In the next moment, Draedyn blurred outside.
What was he looking at?
With a groan, I pushed my still-healing body upright. Best case, if he threw me from the cliff, I could disappear before I shifted Drae. Bolstered by this confidence—what with recent developments of private bubbles and the like, I hobbled after him.
Draedyn faced west toward Azule. I didn’t know what he could hear, but my insides burst with joy with what I could see.
Lani’s golden net covered a massive arm
y. Men spread over the entrance to his personal lands, covering the valley, a stunning beacon of armor, fluttering banners, and glinting spearheads.
The battering from my close encounters with recent walls did nothing to stop a wide grin from stretching across my face. Elation rose within me, forcing me to clamp my Phaetyn veil over the emotion as I struggled to hold back a shout of joy. They were here. My friends were here to fight.
The sight burned into my mind, and I blinked the tears from my eyes. A fist tightened in the area beneath my ribs; the fierce determination to see the battle through to the end grew and became a calling unlike any I’d felt before. The resolution flooded through me, filling my mind and body. I’d be fighting with them. Maybe not beside them, but I’d do whatever it took to help them.
My attention returned to the room’s only other occupant to see Draedyn’s gaze was no longer on the valley but on my face.
I raised my chin although my grin faded at the impassive expression before me.
“We are back to the start, daughter,” he said, his gaze narrowing.
I frowned despite myself, having fully expected to be flying off the edge of the cliff sans wings.
A cruel smile curved his lips. “I see I am not being persuasive enough.”
When I drank an entire bottle of honey syrup one time, I expected the backlash. I knew my mother would find the bottle eventually unless the world was upturned in the interim. I understood there would be repercussions, but the sweet taste, all to myself, was worth it.
When I’d killed my father’s Druman several hours ago, I’d known the act of defiance wouldn’t go unpunished.
And yet it had. The room had been cleared of bodies and scrubbed clean, although that didn’t completely remove the slight rustic tang of Druman blood in the air.
I cut into the morsel of roasted chicken on my plate after everyone was served, struggling to ignore the fierce glares aimed at me by the other female Drae. To them, my aunt and Draelyn were dead and gone. Two women they’d known for at least one hundred years. And while they were wrong about the former, they were right about Draelyn. Considering, I could handle a few glares. With how they were feeling, angry dark looks were pretty justified.
In fact, their attention was the least of my concerns. I was frantically working to figure out Draedyn’s next move. He’d killed Kamoi because he’d betrayed me and the Phaetyn. He’d nearly torn Aunt Ryn apart because she’d acted against him. How much of my betrayal was he aware of?
I wasn’t lured into false hope by the delay between the deed and the reaction, but the dragging time slowly chipped away at my forced nonchalance. My sleep had been restless, and despite the time in my chamber, I still didn’t feel collected.
I closed my eyes against the Draes’ glares and studied the ring of my father’s power around my mind. My private bubble was there, the wisp of my Drae power safe within. I still had these things. I didn’t wish to use any of these untested defenses against Draedyn yet, but if whatever payback he was cooking up was more than I could bear, I had something.
I hoped.
I took a deep breath, but my shifting attention snagged on the ring of Draedyn’s power as it began to pulse, the dark, emerald green contracting and expanding repetitively. But that wasn’t—
The sound of a chair scraping back brought my attention to the room, and I wrenched open my eyes to see the emperor on his feet, staring at me, his eyes wide. What the hay? I wasn’t doing anything. Drak, I hadn’t let something slip had I?
The barrier of power imprisoning my Drae energy steadily thinned and weakened. I doubled over as a wave of sadness and desperation flowed over me—my bond with Tyrrik hitting me for the umpteenth time that day.
I gasped, staring at my plate, but my attention was consumed by my need for my mate.
The doors of the dining room crashed open, and I glanced up to see Druman filing in. My eyes narrowed at the numbers, so many of them, and I planned to kill all of them, if possible, before they got a chance to attack the army of my friends.
My mind and soul were swallowed by rich, onyx black, my senses bathed in the color and scent of my mate’s Drae power. When it ebbed, the ring around my mind disappeared, and I slammed back in my chair as the connection to my blue tendrils pummeled me, thrashing through my body, laying its claim with full force. I growled, my eyes narrowing into slits, and my talons sliced through the table as I struggled to control the shift.
I pushed back, stumbling to my feet, and whirled away from the audience, nearly falling flat on my face as a gentle onyx tendril stroked my awareness.
Tyrrik, I called, my ache for him swelling. I sobbed at the pain of our trembling bond.
My love, he answered.
I felt him then. The surroundings, everyone and everything, were forgotten as the Druman pouring through the doorway parted, and darkness flowed into the room.
My darkness.
Joy, relief, and excitement, all tinged with horror, caught in my throat. My battling emotions competed to make a sound, but I couldn’t wait. My heart pounded, brought to life, and I launched myself at Tyrrik. He sliced through the last Druman to get to me, their bodies falling to the ground as Tyrrik stepped forward. I jumped and locked my legs and arms around him, pressing my body against his. Shaking. Babbling incoherently. Pressing my nose to his neck to inhale his familiar pine and smoke scent.
He stroked my silver hair, and I soaked in the warmth of his touch. The vibrations of his voice stirred my soul, and all I knew, for those few precious, flawless breaths, was the feel of his body, the smell of his skin, and the warmth of his love.
“Mine,” I growled.
I pulled back, or he nudged me, and then his mouth was on mine or mine on his. The flesh of his neck turned to scales under my hands as the ferocity of our reunion consumed us. One of his hands pressed on my back, the other underneath my thigh pulling me hard against him.
“Mate,” he managed to say when we separated for air.
I certainly planned to.
But the partial glimpse of a Druman over Tyrrik’s shoulder provided enough water to put out the burning hay field.
“Audience,” I murmured, kissing him again.
His lips moved against mine. I know.
He knew. Of course he knew.
I unhooked my ankles and slid down Tyrrik’s body until my feet touched the ground, the only distance either of us allowed. I blinked and began coiling my Drae powers around my mind, allowing the bubble of Phaetyn power I’d been hiding to flood my mind and coat inside my lapis lazuli energy. Time would tell if this combination was any more effective against Draedyn, but I had a good feeling about it. Compared to erecting my Phaetyn powers outside of my Drae powers, doing it the opposite way had taken the blink of an eye.
“Emperor Draedyn, I assume,” Tyrrik said, the embers of his voice reverberating through me.
I tensed. The palace was the last place I wanted Tyrrik to be. We were stronger and happier together, yes. But I’d just royally betrayed Draedyn, and he was yet to take his revenge.
What if he sought retribution through Tyrrik? My stomach seized with the thought.
Draedyn still stood, far more composed than when my mate had first begun to push him out of my head. Lips curling into a half-smile, my father said, “My daughter’s mate, I assume.”
Calling you daughter, already, huh? Tyrrik asked.
Tell me about it, I answered. Even Dyter doesn’t call me that, and he is like a father. I choked on the question I wanted to ask.
He’s not with the army. I’m sorry, love. We don’t know where Dyter is.
My stomach sank, but I forced the emotion away. I’d find out the truth and then deal with it.
I scanned the female Drae and caught them exchanging weighted glances. I couldn’t glean what they were thinking though. Their expressions could mean maybe Ryn did get a message to Tyrrik, or she has a mate and we don’t; let’s ruin her life in vengeance, or something else altogether. I didn’t k
now any of them well enough to get a solid read.
Draedyn moved, and I gripped Tyrrik’s arm, digging my nails in unintentionally. I would not let my father hurt my mate.
If he attacks, we fight our way to the balcony and escape. You’ll have to cover us with your Phaetyn veil, but it’ll work.
Kamoi is dead, but he still has Kamini. Once we leave, he’ll never let us return, I replied with utter certainty. No way.
Hopefully not.
I kept my face smooth. I guess it’s easier to take him out if we’re here.
Yes, Tyrrik replied. And while we’re here, he’ll be less likely to attack the army.
You hope.
Draedyn rounded the table. “I have not seen mated Drae in over one hundred years. I confess, despite myself, my heart is glad to see the sight once more.”
Right. Where is he going with this?
“I’ll not be parted from my mate,” Tyrrik said, his growl rumbling long after his words.
Phew, going in early with the demands. Not that I felt any less strongly, but there were almost two dozen Drae in the room and at least that many Druman, and all of them answered to my father’s call except for the two of us. The energy in the room was all-but crackling and sparking.
“You will stay then?” the emperor asked, stopping before us. He extended his hands, palms up.
A tiny warning growl slipped through my teeth at his proximity, and Tyrrik sent a pulse of comforting warmth to me through our bond.
Draedyn observed us for so long without blinking that I was nearly tempted to relax my fighting stance.
“You misunderstand, heir-daughter,” he said mildly. “I find absence has softened my memories of the mating bond, and I beg your pardon. How could you have been happy here without your mate? His presence is of paramount importance. I no longer wonder at your joy upon seeing the army.”
Black Crown Page 27