Blood Oath (The Darkest Drae Book 1)(78)

Shivers exploded down my arms.

“Irdelron had been well informed. He sent the emperor the females, and I was the only Drae left with him, so there was never any danger of the oath being broken, before now. I’ve always been the only Drae in Verald.”

“What are you saying?” I whispered.

Irrik opened his eyes, human once more, and faced me. He slid back the sleeves of my shift.

“Drae cannot kill each other. I cannot physically kill one of my own. It is not magically possible. To tell me to do so would shatter the blood oath and allow me the freedom to protect my fellow Drae.” He glanced down and, frowning in confusion, I did the same.

I gasped at the sight of the lapis lazuli gems stuck to my skin. Except . . . I stepped away from Irrik. They weren’t gems. I swallowed. I thought I was Phaetyn? I sucked in a breath. “What . . . am I?”

His answer didn’t come quickly enough.

“What am I?” I screamed at him.

He tried to get closer, but I shifted away to keep distance between us. His eyes went inky again, and when he spoke, his menacing Drae voice rumbled through the throne room. “You are Drae.”

My legs folded underneath me, and I sank to the ground, staring at my arms. My blue-scaled arms. “I can’t be,” I said. “I’m Phaetyn.”

“You are Drae, too,” Irrik said.

Dyter’s voice was incredulous. “How is that possible?”

“The emperor’s experiments,” Irrik answered tersely.

Cal and Dyter looked at each other in confusion. I’m glad I wasn’t the only one.

“A female Drae can only breed with her mate,” Irrik snapped. “What he was trying to do is unnatural.” Scales rippled over his skin, and he trembled to maintain his human form.

“Do not shift on me right now,” I yelled at him, climbing to my feet. I was pushed far beyond my coping level and unable to feel fear. I grabbed his arms and shook him, though he didn’t even budge.

Irrik closed his eyes, and his black scales smoothed to skin. He rested his hands on my shoulders and took slow, deep breaths.

My breath was ragged. “So what? I’m Phaetyn and Drae?” I swallowed, and my voice shook when I said, “Apart from the scales, I don’t seem very Drae. I don’t shift. I don’t . . .”

I didn’t even know what other powers Drae had, but I didn’t have anything else besides my Phaetyn powers. And those twinkling bumps.

“When is your eighteenth birthday?” Cal asked.

Irrik asked me that same question not long ago. I had no idea how much time I’d lost recovering from my injuries, so I took a guess. “A few days. Maybe?”

“A Drae does not come into their powers until adolescence,” Irrik said. “Males come into them earlier, at age twelve.” He fidgeted then met my quelling gaze and said in a strained voice, “Females later, usually around eighteen, when they are of mating age.”

He did not just say mating. Drak, no. I backed away from him, suddenly needing distance. It hit me. “You knew I was Drae? This whole time? Was it my itchy arms?”

Irrik exhaled. “No, that’s when I knew your transformation was close. I knew you were Drae the first time I touched you. I recognized you as my kind. But I first knew you were both Phaetyn and Drae when your mother told me, before . . .”

She killed herself. “My mother was Drae,” I said in a daze. I’d suspected it once before, long ago, believing if she was that would mean I wasn’t actually her daughter. But my mother had been Drae, and I was her daughter. That was something, it was outweighed by everything else at the moment, but it was something.

“The Phaetyn blade that killed her . . .” I had to know but couldn’t actually ask.

Irrik’s eyes flashed black, and his fangs lengthened. He trembled for a long moment before answering. “Yours.”

I closed my eyes as a dead weight landed in my stomach. It shouldn’t mean anything. I hadn’t been the one to put the blood on there or shove it into my mother . . . but my blood had killed her.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked, hugging myself.

My question fell flat. I knew the answer before he parted his lips. Shaking my head, I answered my own question. “Because you couldn’t trust me.”

“Ryn, I—”

“No.” I held up my hand to stop his excuse. I didn’t want to hear him say it. My heart couldn’t take anymore. “It’s fine. You couldn’t risk it in case Jotun got it out of me, or I screwed up in front of the king. I get it. Truly.” I’d made that mistake with Ty. Arnik had been broken. Everyone cracked under the right pressure. My mind understood that.

Dyter’s arms closed around me, tugging me to him. “My girl,” he whispered in my hair. “What have you been through?”

So much. Too much. I couldn’t even feel anything anymore and didn’t know when I would. I turned to my friend, my mentor, and buried my face in his chest. A low grieving sound came from deep in my chest, but my eyes remained dry as my mind spun to take in all that had happened and all I had learned.

“You’re al’right now,” Dyter shushed, rocking me.

My eyes were drawn to where Tyr’s head still lay facing me on the ground. I wasn’t okay. I wouldn’t be. I was a Phaetyn and a Drae. I wasn’t stupid. I knew that would make me highly valuable, or highly threatening.