Blood Oath (The Darkest Drae Book 1)(61)

I so wanted it to be Tyr.

A hooded figure loomed at the door, and he rattled the key in the lock. My insides clenched in anticipation, and I cursed the dim light. But when he stepped through the doorway, I recognized his broad shoulders, his sculpted lips, and his clean-shaven jawline. His lips parted, as if he would speak, and he reached a tentative hand toward me.

“Tyr,” I mouthed. With a small sob, I threw myself into his arms, burying my face in the folds of his cloak on his chest.

He locked me in a tight embrace, pressing his lips to my forehead, and then loosened his grip enough to stroke my hair. After two months, it was nearly down to my chin. Silver strands now that Mum wasn’t here to dye it.

His long fingers brushed my cheek. I have missed you.

My chest filled. “I’ve missed you, too. You couldn’t get up to my room?”

A frown appeared, and he shook his head. Still touching my cheek, he spoke in my mind, I would never be able to see you up there in the light.

Initially, I’d thought Tyr was Jotun’s cleaning lackey. Then I thought him a guard doing what he could against the king. I’d even wondered if he was part of the rebellion at one point. After that, I found out Irrik sent him to keep my Phaetyn powers secret. But I’d never really thought about how Tyr got in here with all the food and drink, or how he disappeared after with buckets of bloodied rags.

I tipped my head back to see into his hood. Black veiled his eyes like always. I inched my fingers up to the shadow, but though I could trace his face underneath, I could not see through the darkness. This had to be Drae magic. Ty had said that Druman tended to be violent beasts. Was Tyr the exception?

Was he Irrik’s son?

Tyr picked up my hand and rubbed gentle circles on the inside of my wrist. I tried not to show my reaction to his touch though heat flooded my cheeks.

I was able to get a message to Cal through your old friend, Dyter.

The floor fell away. Dyter was alive. He’d gone to Cal. “Y-you did?”

I couldn’t sit still, and I jumped up and strode to the door and back. Fevered hope filled me. I tasted freedom on my tongue. I reached for Tyr, holding his hand in both of mine. “Do you know what this means?”

The corner of his mouth pulled up in my favorite wry smile. He shrugged, and I eyed him in outrage before realizing he was teasing. He caught my hand before I could hit him on the shoulder. It means the rebels plan to ambush you in the fields soon. Very soon. It is set in motion.

I’d expected several more weeks spent in the fields, waiting for Arnik to get the message to Cal. But Tyr made it happen. “Like, days?”

Tyr nodded solemnly.

My breath caught. “I can’t leave Ty here.” Ty, who was probably listening to every word, was my friend. I stared up into the darkness, wishing I could see Tyr’s face. “Can you promise to get him out when the king’s army goes out to fight the rebels?”

Tyr didn’t move.

I whispered, “You’ll be coming too, right?” When he didn’t answer right away, I squeezed my eyes shut, fearful of the answer I would see in the set of his jaw, or the frown on his lips.

He sighed. I will do everything in my power to make it so.

I rested my forehead against his chest. “Why is it that you’re saying the right words but I don’t believe you?”

Arnik— Tyr ripped his hand away, but not before I caught the word in his thoughts.

My eyes narrowed. “What about Arnik?”

He avoided my gaze, extracting food and nectar from his cloak. A curious thought occurred to me. “Tyr? Are you jealous of Arnik?” I’d never openly acknowledged the growing depth of feeling between us before, and I held my breath as the question slipped from my lips.

His shoulders stiffened, and humor lit within me alongside a tight bundle of nerves in my stomach because Tyr felt jealous over me. I held back my wide smile, saying, “Arnik is a childhood friend.”

He set the flagon of nectar down and spun in a blur. He cupped my face with his strong hands, his thumbs stroking my cheeks.

My heart thumped in my chest as I stared up at Tyr. I traced my fingers over his lips, and he caught my finger between his teeth. Desire burned low in my belly.

I have wanted to kiss you . . . for so long.

Triumph at his words made me smile, and I stepped closer. “I want you to kiss me, too,” I whispered, rising onto my tiptoes. “I’ve wanted it—”

There was a flash of his white teeth before he crushed his lips to mine. His fingers threaded into my hair, and his other hand dropped to my waist to pull me tight against him.

I gripped his arms, drowning in him. His kiss turned tender, small brushes of his lips against mine, and then across my jaw line and down my neck. I tilted my head back, and I worked my hands up toward his hood. I wanted to run my fingers through his hair, and pull his head down to me. I wanted to wrap myself around him, and feel his heart beat. I wanted to be as close to Tyr as possible for as long as I could, for as long as he’d let me.

I whispered his name, and he pressed his lips to mine. The tender kisses turned desperate, my heart pounding with increased fervor. He nipped my lower lip, and I moaned.

Ryn.

I wasn’t a fool. He’d given me no promise he’d join me. If the rebels saved me, I may never see him again. A pounding pressure seized my heart, and I broke off the savage kiss, panting.