Shadow Wings (The Darkest Drae Book 2)(71)

Tyrrik caught my arm as I passed him, halting me. He frowned as he studied me, and his thumb caressed my arm. “You know I’ll protect you, Ryn.”

Oh sure. Now he’d speak to me and act like I was the unreasonable one. I yanked my arm free and started down the rocky hill. I resisted the urge to kick at the patches of scrub on the way down, muttering to myself about stupid old men and stupid Drae.

The sun had only peeked over the horizon in the last hour, and its rays were still tentative as they stretched into day. Rain had fallen overnight, and the once-packed dirt between the rocks and shrubs was mud and puddles of clear water. I reached the bottom of the hill, realized I didn’t know where I was going, and turned to wait for Dyter and him.

Dyter lifted a brow and pointed right.

I rolled my eyes and waited for them, inhaling the strong pine smell with the undercurrent of charred wood from our meager fires that must’ve settled in the valley of trees. When Dyter took the lead, I asked him, “How long until we get to Gemond?”

“On foot, two weeks. If we were flying, a day.”

“Then why aren’t we flying?”

I picked after Dyter through the forest. Only the trickle of a stream disturbed the silence, a reminder of what Tyrrik and I were from the absence of animal sound. Of course, the creatures of the forest sensed our presence, and they knew to make themselves scarce.

That’s how I felt about the emperor, but I still preferred to risk flying to Gemond. Besides the speed of travel, I wanted to scout the area. Kamini’s sister could be right under our noses.

“Tyrrik is not strong enough to carry me,” Dyter replied. “And he thought you might not feel comfortable flying with me.”

The Drae was right, but I wasn’t going to admit it. Instead of answering, I remained mute, which still felt like an admission. Drak.

We continued picking our way through the underbrush, and I became painfully aware of Tyrrik walking behind me. What was he looking at? As we began to climb the next mountain, I was convinced he was staring at my butt. As I pushed up and over a large boulder, I glanced back.

Totally staring at my butt.

He smirked when he caught my gaze, and I turned up my nose, facing the front. Didn’t our argument two days prior bother him? I couldn’t think of anything else. What had he meant with his parting remark? Not knowing was driving me mad.

I panted as we climbed, but it wasn’t because I was out of shape. “I hate corsets,” I said. “I’m pretty sure I dreamed of aketons last night.” An aketon and my usual ankle-length skirt or trousers. I’d even take an aketon without pants at this point. “Dyter, why didn’t you pack another aketon?”

Dyter turned and said, “If you remember, we were in a bit of a hurry when we left Zivost. I’m sure we can find you other clothing in Gemond.”

I thought of the mountains we’d have to climb between now and then. “I’ll die before we get there.”

“Then take it off,” Dyter snapped without looking back.

A menacing growl rippled over my head before I’d fully processed Dyter’s response.

“She’s not taking anything off,” Tyrrik snarled.

I ignored the big lizard stalking behind me. I already knew his aketon was in a bunch. “What’s blocking your pipe, Dyter?”

He threw a scowl over his shoulder, taking a moment to let his disapproval settle first on me and then the Drae behind me. “You two have frayed my last nerve.”

My brief flash of good humor disappeared. “It’s Tyrrik’s fault. He’s sulking.”

“I’m not sulking,” the one-hundred-and-nine-year old said.

“Mmm-hmm, sure.”

Dyter exploded. “Enough!” He whirled on us, stomping back to wave a finger in my face. “If you can’t say anything nice, don’t speak at all.”

“That’s what we were doing before,” I huffed. “You said it made you cranky.” By this point, I was needling the old man, but I craved an outlet for my frustration, and he’d offered one.

“Not cranky . . . irritable.” He sighed, his anger draining away as he looked at me.

“So you’re not cranky, and Tyrrik’s not sulking,” I said, nodding as I doubled down on my own stupidity.

“Ryn?” Dyter offered me a weary half-smile.

“Yes?”

“I love you. But shut up.” He marched ahead to lead the way again.





28





I pushed aside a branch, smiling as I let it fling back. It probably wasn’t high enough to hit Tyrrik’s face, but I grinned at his grunt when the branch thwacked against him. A quick peek told me he still found my rear end far too interesting. I wonder how many branches I could catch him with between now and Gemond.

Which reminded me. “Why are we going to Gemond? The king lets his people eat each other.”

“Did you listen to nothing I told you about King Zakai?” the old man groaned.

I pushed aside another branch and then let it go. The thin tree limb flicked back, and I smirked as Tyrrik grunted again.

“Yeah, I listened,” I answered, jumping a small creek, my wispy skirt bouncing around my thighs. “But I didn’t believe you.”

“You don’t believe a man you’ve known most of your life?” Tyrrik asked, speaking for the first time in a while.