Shadow Wings_The Darkest Drae [Book 2]

by Raye Wagner

  I nodded at the wisdom the childlike rebel had shared. If we never found the other Phaetyn, Kamini would still make a great ruler.

  “Which is why,” Kamini continued, “I’d like to ask you to put up the barrier again.”

  “The gold one?” I asked, shaking my head. “I don’t know how to do that.”

  Kamini shrugged. “You have ancestral powers.”

  “And yet I still don’t know how,” I replied, arching a brow.

  Kamoi took his sister’s hand. “All we ask is that you try. We can control the rock barrier around the forest, that offers some protection, but the other barrier protects us from the sky, from Drae. If you can put it back up, Kamini can do her best to keep the barrier there, as my mother did before her.”

  Were they kidding? I grimaced and, shaking my head, asked, “You want to be bed-ridden your whole life, Kamini?”

  A ghost of a smile crossed her lips. “Once my older sister is found, I won’t need to be.”

  No pressure, Ryn. I sighed heavily. “Al’right, I’ll give it a go, but I’m warning you that it probably won’t work.”

  I walked back to the tree I’d been touching and rested my hands on its rough bark. Closing my eyes, I waited for the usual assault of images, but the only vision the trees provided was of the gold hovering above their tops. “Yes,” I muttered. “But how?”

  Queen Luna stood at the outskirts of the forest, her palms on a tree. A golden hue spread upward, coating the Zivost with a shimmering glow.

  “Great, that’s super helpful. Thanks,” I spoke to the tree. Looks like I was on my own.

  I squeezed my eyes, reaching for my Phaetyn power. The vibrant energy answered my call and rushed to my fingertips where I directed the flow into the forest, willing the energy to reach high, to embrace the trees and people within its midst, to keep all enemies outside, and to shine gold like the barrier before it. I poured everything into my hands and then cracked an eye open.

  “Have you done it yet?” Dyter asked.

  I scowled at him. There was no iridescent golden cover over Zivost. From what I could tell, nothing had happened. “No. It didn’t work.” I turned to Kamini. “I’m sorry.”

  She swallowed. “You tried. That’s all we asked for.”

  A guard a few feet away yelped and tumbled back as the ground exploded beneath him. We stared at the giant tree root which had appeared above ground.

  “How much energy did you put into the tree?” Kamoi whispered.

  I turned and blinked at the trunk which was expanding before our eyes, the tree’s limbs shooting into the sky. “Umm. A bit?”

  Kamini grinned. “I wonder how big it will get.”

  I gazed uneasily at the tree, hoping it didn’t destroy the whole forest.

  We watched for a full minute before it became apparent the tree wasn’t going to stop growing.

  Stepping farther from the monstrous tree, Kamoi studied me a moment before speaking. “Ryn, I heard what you said, but I hope you’ll come back one day.”

  Kamini’s gaze shifted from me and Kamoi to Dyter. “Send word when you go to battle. I’ll do what I can to aid you. I can’t promise all of our kind will help; I don’t know how the next weeks will go, but some of my kind are with you.”

  Dyter grinned, his ropey scar twisting his face to appear maniacal in the moonlight.

  “Our time is up,” Kamoi announced as the clang of metal sounded above the thundering growth of the tree behind us. He nodded to the guards behind him. “I’ll have my men lead those of the Phaetyn still loyal to my mother and father off. Good luck, Ryn.”

  He bent over me, and I realized he was going to kiss me a moment too late. His lips touched mine, and I immediately pulled back.

  A flash of hurt crossed his face.

  He literally had no right to be hurt. I’d been completely upfront. Forcing a smile I definitely didn’t feel, I reminded him, “Friends.”

  He recovered quickly, and with a wink, he said. “Now I remember.”

  Yeah, sure.

  Kamini waved me to her and wrapped her arms around me for a hug. “Be true to who you are. I hope our paths cross again soon.”

  “Thanks,” I murmured a moment after she pulled away. “Thanks for everything.”

  “I’ll see you at home,” Kamoi said to Kamini with a wink.

  The two Phaetyn royals turned their backs to us and marched into the forest, Kamoi leading his guards toward the noise and Kamini going in the opposite direction. They disappeared into the darkness.

  * * *

  Dyter and I blew out a breath at the same time. We peered down at Lord Tyrrik, and I sighed, saying, “I hope you appreciate this when you wake up.”

  Dyter chuckled beside me. “I’m sure he will. Come on now, let’s get him to safety.”

  “Then sleep.”

  “Then sleep,” he agreed. “I’m too old for this crap.”

  “You got your alliance though. In the end.” I grabbed Tyrrik’s arm and hoisted him over my shoulders.

  We crossed where the barrier had been, and as soon as we were off the path, the rocks thrust out of the ground and climbed into the sky.

  Our conversation dwindled as we continued into the mountains, and I spotted a copse of scraggly trees in the distance, silver in the moonlight.

  “Should we head over there?” I asked, pointing at the trees.

  Dyter looked at the trees and then pointed at a rocky overhang farther to our left. “Let’s go there. That way if it rains, or a Drae flies overhead . . .”

  Crossing to the overhang didn’t take long; thank the moons for small mercies. I laid Tyrrik down on a dark rock under the overhang and groaned as my muscles were unburdened. We’d passed near a stream five minutes back. “I need to get some water to make him nectar.”

  Dyter grimaced. “I’ll get water. You’d better deal with Tyrrik, Ryn. He started wheezing when we entered the mountains.”

  I leaned over Tyrrik and listened. “I don’t hear any wheezing.”

  Dyter tossed me the water skin. “Al’right. Your ears are better than mine any day. Just don’t be mad if you come back and he’s dead.”

  Dead? Mistress moons. I was not okay with that. Not after dragging him everywhere for the last few days. At least, that’s what I told myself.

  I propped Dyter’s cloak under Tyrrik’s head and ran my fingers through the limp strands of his hair. His breathing did seem shallow, but his skin had better color than in Zivost. Or was that just the way the moons were reflecting off his skin?

  I tossed Dyter the water skin and waited until I heard him climbing down the rocks.

  “You better not die on me,” I muttered. I traced Tyrrik’s mouth and sealed my lips to his. I gasped as pure heat flooded through my body, breaking the connection. “You’re not supposed to be enjoying this, Ryn,” I scolded myself. I closed the distance again, this time blocking out the feel of his mouth against mine.

  Tyrrik’s darkness was like a cloudy night sky when the moons and stars were hidden and the warmth of the day was trapped beneath the haze of moisture. But spotting the black canvas were several droplets of pale gold, nothing like before, but still there, where it shouldn’t be. Now that I knew what I was looking for, it was easy to pick off the Phaetyn poison from within the Drae and even easier to burn it out.

  I let myself sink into the darkness and saw deep within the Drae’s core a spark of blue dancing in the pitch. The lapis-colored flame reminded me of the blue that would pulse in Tyrrik’s scales sometimes. I pushed my energy into the flame, making it burn brighter, and together we obliterated every last speck of gold.

  I broke the connection and took a deep breath, pulling my energy into my lungs. I listened for Dyter, and when I didn’t hear him, I leaned over the Drae and pressed my lips to his again. I exhaled, passing more of my vibrant blue energy to the Drae, and his pale flame surged briefly.

  I grinned in triumph as I felt him shift on the ground, but I was careful not to break our
connection.

  One of his hands slid up my arm, and I squeaked in surprised. But Tyrrik’s touch was like fire, and as he cupped the back of my neck, his fingers threading into my hair, I melted into him. His other arm encircled my waist, tugging me down. I relaxed my body so my torso was flush with his, resting my hands on his smooth, warm chest.

  His tongue brushed against mine, and tingles burst and skittered across my skin and through my chest. Desire rose, but Tyrrik shuddered, his body heaved, and I pulled back just in time to watch him roll to the side and throw up.

  Ugh. I grimaced.

  He coughed and sputtered, bringing up more clear fluid that smelled sour and rank. I remembered the crystal fluid the guards had been pouring into his mouth. What was that? I should’ve asked Kamoi before we left.

  My anger flared at the Phaetyn once again, and I rested my hand on Tyrrik’s cheek. “Shh.”

  His eyes fluttered open, and he mumbled incoherently before passing out again.

  “That was so not how I thought kissing you would go,” I muttered. I ripped off one of the wispy panels from my skirt and dried Tyrrik’s mouth. “I finally contemplate forgiving you, and you throw up. That’s not allowed. You owe me a real kiss.”

  I tensed at the sound of rocks scattering behind me.

  “About time,” Dyter said from the entrance with a chuckle, swinging the water skin as he shifted farther into the large cave.

  I glowered at him. “Time for what?”

  “That you acknowledge what’s between you.”

  My cheeks flushed. “What are you talking about?”

  Dyter lifted a brow. “Come on, Ryn. You’re his mate”—he pointed back and forth between the two of us—“and he’s yours.”

  I fell mute, my gaze fixed on Tyrrik. In my peripheral vision, I saw Dyter rest the water skin beside me, and then he circled around and sat on the other side of the Drae, opposite where I crouched. Dyter was staring at me, I could feel his gaze on my face, but I couldn’t meet his eyes. I swallowed hard and stammered, “Y-you don’t know that.”

  “You think Tyrrik would’ve done the things he has for anything less? He’s been enslaved for one hundred years. According to you, he’s an expert manipulator, and he’d have to be to save his own skin for an entire century. Think of all he’s done for you—no one but the two of you know all of it—and tell me if there is any other explanation that makes sense.”

  Several seconds passed, but I wasn’t racking my brain. There was another reason, and it had haunted me ever since I found out what I was. “I was the only other Drae in Verald.”

  “No, you weren’t,” Dyter corrected. “He stood by while your mother sacrificed herself to let you get away. If it was a kinship thing, he wouldn’t have allowed that.”

  Right. I scowled at the old man, who was now massaging his stump. “You’ve got it all figured out, haven’t you?”

  He stopped, the ropey scar on his slack face darkening, and said, “Come now, my girl. You have it figured out, too. That’s why you’re running so hard.”

  “I’m crouching,” I corrected.

  “Don’t be immature.”

  I rolled my eyes, but my heart was pounding. I had known there was something. I wasn’t an idiot, but I was scared of what having that connection with another meant. Terrified really.

  I snatched up the water skin and uncorked it. Tipping my head back, I gulped half of the water.

  “You see the color of your scales in his,” Dyter said.

  I choked on the water in my mouth, backwashing a little into the flagon. Hmm. Served Tyrrik right for throwing up on me.

  Putting my finger in the remaining water, I thought of Tyrrik and how I needed the water to be nectar so I could heal him. Conjuring up that desire was all too easy. Right now, that only made me grit my teeth. I didn’t like that in only a couple of weeks, my barriers had fallen so much. My heart knew I wanted Tyrrik alive, and making nectar for him was effortless. It shouldn’t be so easy already.

  I held the container to his lips, and a mixture of relief and sick satisfaction swept through me when he drank the remainder of the water. I glanced up at Dyter and asked, “You’re really going to press the issue?”

  “Denial never did anyone any good,” he said with a frown.

  As if that was enough to convince me. “Seems to be working pretty well, so far.”

  Dyter shook his head. “You’re better than that, Ryn. I’m not saying life has been easy for you the last few months; I know it hasn’t. But you chose to come on this journey. You’ve chosen to join the war against the emperor—”

  Picked up on that, did he? “I had to after making such a big deal of Phaetyn sticking their heads in the dirt and ignoring the realm. They were being stupid.”

  Dyter shifted on the rocky ground, reclining against the wall of the cave. He exhaled slowly, as if bracing himself, and then whispered, “You’re doing the same thing with Tyrrik.”

  Ouch. How could he say that?

  “It’s a little different, Dyter,” I said sarcastically. At least, I meant my tone to be sarcastic. What came out seemed more along the lines of bitterness. “No one is dying because of my choice.”

  “Drae have one mate, Rynnie. Only one. Ever.”

  I tossed the empty container to the side and exploded to my feet. “What are you saying? I should forget everything that’s happened to me? That because he might be my mate I just decide, ‘oh what the hay, I guess we better get together for life?’”

  Dyter frowned, but I was just warming up.

  “All that abuse? No worries. We’re mates. It’s fine. Oh, and you don’t tell me what’s happening? That’s al’right; we’re mates, so I don’t need to know.” My chest heaved as I screamed my frustration at the pathetic reality Dyter was proposing I accept. “And don’t worry about telling me anything, ever, not even about myself; I totally trust you because we’re mates!”

  Dyter’s eyes were wide, and he stared at me wordlessly.

  I took several breaths, forcing myself to calm down. But the emotion hadn’t disappeared; I was just barely controlling it when I spoke. “I’m eighteen years old. I’m not meant to make decisions about mates and permanent promises. Not yet.” Whirling away, I crossed to the edge of the cave and stood looking out over the hillside before I spoke the truth of my heart. “I don’t want to make fake choices that are already chosen for me. I want a real choice.”

  Dyter cleared his throat and said, “You had a choice with Kamoi.”

  I stiffened, my arms locking where I’d folded them across my chest.

  “Why didn’t you pick Kamoi?” Dyter asked.

  Dyter had never been cruel or malicious, but his words were an arrow that pierced my heart.

  26

  Ice coiled in my stomach, its freezing tendrils spreading into my chest. I bit my tongue to prevent the painful truth or vitriolic anger from spewing out. I didn’t want either to escape. Instead of replying to Dyter, I stared out over the treetops, watching as the overcast sky leaked and drizzled its moisture. Fat drops began to form and drip from the rocky overhang we camped beneath.

  “I want you to be happy,” Dyter said. “When I’m gone, I want you to be protected.”

  “I just squished the Phaetyn queen and tore her guards to bits.” I sniffed in disdain, but my stomach churned with the acknowledgement of what I’d done. I’d feel terrible later. Their deaths might even give me nightmares. But in this moment, I wasn’t the least bit sorry. “Pretty sure I can protect myself.”

  He chuckled, and my shoulders relaxed as the tension between us dissipated.

  “I can’t believe you left me dragging Lord Tyrrik away on a blanket while you fought off the Phaetyn army,” Dyter said, his laughter swelling. “There you were, stomping around, and I’m hobbling off afraid you were going to breathe fire on the lot of us. Drak, I almost wet myself.”

  I snickered as I turned to Dyter. Seeing his red face and hearing his guffaws made me laugh, and as he chortled
on, I laughed harder. Soon, tears were streaming down our faces.

  He clutched his stomach, hooting. “Do you know how hard it is to drag a blanket with one arm? A blanket with a Drae on it?”

  I doubled up, imagining Dyter dragging Tyrrik through the forest, but after a few seconds, something happened to my laughter, and soon the choking sound coming out of my mouth didn’t resemble laughter at all.

  Dyter got to his feet and crossed to me. He’d stopped chuckling, like me, but he wasn’t crying or gasping for breath. I sniffed as he pulled me into his embrace, inhaling his familiar smell.

  “You’ll be okay, Rynnie,” he said, rocking me.

  I wasn’t okay, and I wasn’t sure I ever would be. I certainly hadn’t been okay so far. I’d been hurt. So badly. I choked on my words, trying to tell him of my uncertainty.

  Dyter didn’t acknowledge my incoherent answer, still rocking me as he repeated, “You’ll do okay.”

  An overwhelming pressure rose through my throat, a darkness I’d suppressed for weeks. I struggled to reign it in, but I was too exhausted, too hungry, too emotionally drained to battle it back. The low wail escaped, and the dam burst.

  A terrible mourning keen drove up from my injured soul, tearing through my chest, searing my throat as it ravaged me. My abrupt introduction to evil escalated to horror I’d never imagined possible. For three months, I’d been tortured, controlled, intimidated, abused, and manipulated. I’d lost my innocence, almost like the girl who’d been protected so well by her mother never existed.

  I’d lost my naivety and ignorance, and I wanted that back.

  I didn’t want to know nightmares existed. I didn’t want to know I could die. Before, I’d known both of these things, but before, I hadn’t understood them. In the dungeons, I’d become not only acquainted with nightmares but intimately familiar with their terror. Death was rapidly becoming my devoted companion, and I seemed impotent to put either of them aside. Why couldn’t I put my fear for these things aside?

  I grieved, shedding tears for the death of the girl I’d been before entering that foul castle.