Shadow Wings (The Darkest Drae Book 2)(58)

With no weapon, I was very aware I had no chance against fighters of this caliber, but I didn’t feel truly in danger; I couldn’t really be killed by their blades. Did that mean I wanted to cope with a few punches or a cut or two? No. Not at all.

I did the only thing I could think of . . . I dropped to my hands and knees and crawled away through the melee. I aimed for where I remembered the royal table to be, hoping Dyter would still be there.

Above me, the ring of metal overwhelmed everything but the cacophony of men shouting and women screaming. Phaetyn were running, their sprinting legs visible from my crawling position under the table. Why were they fighting? They were Phaetyn. They were going to heal from their wounds and end up being pissed with each other forever.

The end of this table was close, and the legs of the royal table sat ahead. I froze, seeing that only the queen still sat there, surrounded by guards. Dyter had gone.

I looked around and caught sight of the ash tree between the legs of the fighting Phaetyn. The area around the tree was clear. Maybe I’d be able to see Dyter from there.

I shifted direction, crawling between the tables, wincing as a Phaetyn stepped on my hands. I continued my dash until I reached the table closest to the ash tree. Checking for royal guards, I crawled under the railing of the newly constructed barrier and sprinted around to the back of the tree. Breathing hard, placing my hands on the trunk, I peered out from behind the ash.

Flashes of colors sparked behind my eyes, fading into blobs of muted shades before solidifying. Kaelan and Alani huddled outside the Pink House in the dark. The twin moons were at opposite stages, one a sliver just beginning to fill out, the other emptying its remaining light into its sister to reach a crescent phase.

A hooded figure approached through the trees, carrying a squirming wrapped bundle. Kaelan pursed his lips, and Alani nudged him with her elbow before plastering a smile on her face.

Luna’s hood fell back, and the Phaetyn queen beamed as she drew close, running the last few steps. The sisters embraced and Luna chatted excitedly, passing over the squirming bundle, completely missing the unveiled glare from her former mate.

Why was Kaelan glaring when he was clearly in love with Alani and not with Luna? Did he begrudge her for ending things? Surely when he and Alani had Kamoi together, Kaelan couldn’t have expected anything else. Maybe the loss of his status as king bothered him.

Another image emerged. Luna and Alani sitting outside the Pink House while a baby lay on a blanket, playing with a ball of water. A baby in a pink tunic.

Mistress Moons. A sense of dread filled me as the image faded. Because somewhere in my mind, I knew what that meant. Luna had given Alani and Kaelan her child. The images flittered in and out.

Kamini as a toddler running to the Pink House, silver hair streaming behind her. The smile she wore stretched across her face, and she held a bouquet of the pale-green flowers. Kamoi and his parents sat on the porch; a much younger Kamoi glanced back and forth between his parents. Kaelan was frowning and Alani crying. Kamini extended the bouquet toward Alani, and Kaelan pushed her away. Kamoi jumped up and snapped something at his father, wrapping Kamini in a hug as he guided her off the porch.

I pulled back from the tree, chest heaving. Kamini was Luna’s daughter? Which would mean Kamini should have ancestral powers too . . . I lowered my hand and stared out at the clearing where the Phaetyn fought—

A body fell to the ground in the archway, startling me back to the present. The Phaetyn on the ground was one of the rebels I’d seen earlier today, the stocky one who barely spoke during the conversation in the lean-to. I blinked as his chest jerked in time to the gurgles of his labored inhales. I watched as his eyes grew glassy and as his chest stilled. He looked dead.

But, he couldn’t be dead because that was impossible.

A small trickle of green oozed from his mouth. I peered down his body, and my gaze halted on the knife protruding from his side. The silvery fabric of his aketon was torn, and the skin around the wound was visible through the tear. His pale skin had lost its luster, probably typical for death, but that wasn’t what made my heart stop.

The skin surrounding the knife wound wasn’t the same color as everywhere else. The Phaetyn’s blood was silvery iridescent and oozed from the wound, but even that didn’t hide the dark streaks of black. Black.

I swallowed, and my mind whirled. There was only one thing I could think of that would cause that. But it was impossible because that meant this fight was a real fight where Phaetyn were dying. And there was only one way to kill Phaetyn.

My heart pounded to life as rage filled me. I sucked in a deep breath and stood. I’d better be wrong. I’d bloody better be wrong.

I ducked under the railing and shoved a royal Phaetyn guard out of my way, my arms moving in a blur. I charged toward the quartz house. Scales covered my chest and my arms, my talons shifted out, and my vision sharpened as my eyes changed. I was barely holding it together; only the hope that I was wrong kept me from going full Drae.

Phaetyn stepped in my path, but I flung them aside like flies. A sting pricked my back. I whirled and grabbed at the offending guard, my talons shredding his tunic and slicing into his skin. He bellowed in pain as his skin darkened around the wound, and I roared.

I stepped over his writhing body.

I screamed in rage, and several Phaetyn scampered out of my path as I broke into a run.

The fighting idiots blurred, and I charged up the steps and through the door of the Pink House. I sprinted down the hall, fear squeezing my chest. What if I was too late?