Blood Oath (The Darkest Drae Book 1)(14)
Mum didn’t budge.
“How. . . ?” he said, staring at my mother as though looking at a specter. “How can you be here?” He reached forward as if to touch her but stopped before making contact. “I was told you all died.”
His voice radiated fury, and it was the simplest of self-preservation instincts that had me backing away toward my mother.
Mum ignored him, tapped her index finger to her lips, and began to pace.
I looked between them. Did my mother know who this was? She couldn’t, based on her inappropriate lack of fear. And how did Irrik know her? Why was he asking questions that didn’t make sense instead of killing us?
Mum’s shoulders were tense, halfway up to her ears, a sure sign she was stressed. Stressed but not afraid of Lord Irrik, which made no sense. Slowly, her shoulders dropped, dropped past the point of normalcy into defeat.
I’d been so busy watching this happen and keeping one eye on Lord Irrik, who now contemplated me with an intensity that made me want to jump out the window he’d just come in, I missed the moment my mother started crying.
Her eyes were filled and spilling over as she knelt in front of me.
I’d never seen my mother cry, and I ached to make it stop. I winced at her pain, and my apologies spilled incoherently from my lips. I sat before her, trying to dry her tears as I babbled.
“You must go,” she said, cutting me off. “You’re running out of time. You need to go.”
I inhaled shallow breaths. This wasn’t what I expected or wanted to hear. I didn’t know what I expected or wanted; actually, nothing about this made sense. And didn’t she mean we must go? “There’s a Drae in my bedroom.”
The only response to my crazed mutterings was Mum stroking my cheek.
“It should’ve never happened, but I’m so glad it did, Rynnie,” my mother sobbed. “Please know that.”
Her heart was breaking. Why was her heart breaking? “Know what?”
“I have no regrets. You’re a miracle, my miracle, and every minute with you has been the air in my lungs and the blood in my heart.” She pulled me into a hug and kissed my head.
“Mum.” I wet my lips. “You’re scaring me. Why are you saying this? What’s going on?”
She cupped my face in her hands and stared into my eyes, her own eyes taking on a fierce look as she said, “No matter what happens, don’t come back here. Go straight to Dyter’s, and I’ll come get you when I can.”
Her words made no sense, but her panic drenched the room and filled me. Her alarm was so raw, it overrode the terror induced by the predator not three steps from where I trembled. I knelt there, struck dumb. Was I missing something obvious? Lord Irrik seemed to know more than I did, and he’d just met my mother. Didn’t he? I’d known her my whole life, but I didn’t understand. If I did, I’d know why she was saying these terrible things about miracles and . . . I swallowed, struggling to translate the warning my mind was screaming at me.
Mum pushed me toward the window. “Hurry, Ryn. You mustn’t be caught.”
The rest of her words were lost to the pounding in my ears. We were already caught—Lord Irrik was here, but mother clearly wasn’t worried about him. She hardly spared him a glance.
“What about you?” I looked at Lord Irrik and asked in an almost foreign voice, “What are you going to do to her? What’s happening?”
He shook his head, but his baffled gaze told me he was still reeling from whatever shock seeing Mum meant to him. His dignified bearing didn’t wear shock comfortably, and my stomach twisted as I felt a spark of kinship. My entire world was upside down, and the Drae was just as disturbed.
His gaze darted from me to mother and back to me. Stepping up next to Mum, he pointed to the window and, in a low, hoarse voice, said, “You must go. Now. If they find you here, I won’t be able to stop what happens.”
He’d said the same thing to me mere hours before. We should have left straightaway.
The screaming cut off, and we muted.
A door slammed. The sounds of a scuffle floated in the window, and while not uncommon on our street, the disturbance was nearer than any I’d heard before.
“Ryn,” my mother warned, wiping a tear from her smooth face. “Please, you must go now.”
The fact she begged shocked me to my senses. She’d never begged me for anything. Ever. My mother was strong, efficient, direct, not. . .
“I misdirected them, but they’ll be here soon,” Lord Irrik said, eyes fixed on the door of my room.
I scooted back to the ledge and slung my leg over. “You’ll come get me, Mum? When it’s safe, you’ll come?”
“You need to go, baby. I love you. I’ll come get you . . .” She blinked, her vibrant-blue eyes filling with fresh tears. She waved at me, both a shooing motion and a farewell.
Another scream, closer, propelled me out the window. I grappled with the stalks as I slid and fell to the dirt below.
Mum wanted me to hide from the soldiers.
They were after me, so it made sense I had to be gone. A faraway voice nudged me about the presence of another in the room, but my mind zeroed in with tunnel vision on hiding to protect my mother.
I ran, dodging in and out of buildings, in and out of shadows.
I might not be able to go back for months or more. Where would I go?