Shadow Wings (The Darkest Drae Book 2)(78)

The sun had dipped below the mountains during our chat, and soon after, the sky darkened. The sister moons were continuing their monthly merging, and I pointed at the double-circle shape while still nestled by Dyter’s side. “I’ll always remember how I got the best relationship advice ever while sitting underneath a moon that looked like a butt.”

Dyter chuckled. “How does that look like a butt to you? It looks like a fat peanut to me.”

I tilted my head. “I guess it could be that too.”

“You’re twisted. Let’s go to sleep, my girl. I’m too tired to stay up and share any more wisdom.”

He stood and extended his arm, but I waved him off.

“I’ll be there in a minute. I’m going to have that think you encouraged.”

He leaned over and kissed my hair again. “Don’t stay up too late.” He looked up at the sky and then smiled his scar-pulling grin. “You know, as kids we used to say if you slept under a butt-moon, you were destined to get crapped on.”

I quirked a brow, waiting for the good part.

Dyter’s grin widened. “Right then. Good night.”

I glared at his retreating back and then peered suspiciously at the butt-moon and stars above. I muttered up at the sky, “Do not crap on me.”

In my opinion, I’d been crapped on more than enough already.



The scent of searing meat awoke me, but the pleasant low murmur of voices kept me in sleep’s embrace. I had no idea how long Tyrrik and Dyter had been awake, but it was long enough for the space next to me, where Tyrrik should have been, to have grown cold. Dyter’s cloak was draped over me, but my super-amazing Drae senses failed to alert me then. When I had some spare time, I needed to work on activating each of my senses. Not having them when I wanted was a serious pain. Tyrrik had said I’d be able to control a partial shift; that had to mean my eyes and ears, right?

“She was not raised Drae; you can’t expect her to accept your customs and culture without guidance and time,” Dyter whispered. “And even then, you need to be open to accepting some of hers. A little patience would go a long way—”

“It is not in my nature to be patient,” Tyrrik said. “It’s not in the nature of any male Drae.”

I mentally rolled my eyes. Male schmale.

“To be so close without bonding with her is nearly unbearable—,”

I froze.

“—She wants me to court her, I know, and if our mating meant less, I could. But my soul knows her, and my Drae craves her. My control is not infinite. I fear harming her or you if I continue to deny my instincts. I’m fighting the very nature of our species.”

Dyter said nothing at first, and in my mind, I could see the furrow he would wear while contemplating his answer.

“I’m surprised to hear that,” he said slowly. Small pieces of rock scrabbled to the ground as he got to his feet. “I don’t know much about Drae instincts or nature, but I would think a century of waiting would’ve taught you patience.”

Ouch. Harsh. I knew Dyter was taking my side, but I couldn’t help the smolder of injustice for Tyrrik churning underneath my ribs. I couldn’t imagine waiting a hundred years for anything. And just how hard was it for Tyrrik to deny these instincts? When he’d said he didn’t want to know me better, I’d thought he meant I was annoying or something, not that he was in physical pain around me.

“Are you up, Ryn?” Dyter called as he crossed from the clearing into the small thicket of trees. “We should start our descent soon so we can be up the other side before it gets dark.”

Ugh, we’re walking again? I grumbled as I sat up, my gaze going to Tyrrik to let him know he was the source of my bad mood. His back was to me, and he leaned over the fire to turn the spit roast, rabbit by the looks of it.

He stretched his arms up, his borrowed aketon rising to mid-muscly-thigh.

Attraction for the Drae was not part of my current problems. Fire flared low in my belly, and I eyed the bottom of the aketon, willing it to inch up a little more. Show me some more toned Drae leg.

Tyrrik froze, and I blushed though he couldn’t see me where I peeked over the rocks. Dyter, however, did. He glanced back at Tyrrik and faced me with a chuckle.

“Like the view?” the old man asked.

I narrowed my eyes. “Nah, I’ve seen better.” I stood and folded up his cloak. Handing it back to Dyter, I said, “Thanks for keeping me warm.”

He shook his head and pointed at Tyrrik who was now casually cutting the spit roast into edible pieces with his talon. “Thank him; he’s the one who covered you.”

Of course he did. Great.

Dyter shoved the cloak in his pack. I couldn’t explain my nervousness, but it was there, crawling through my body at an unreasonable pace.

I shifted from foot to foot, asking, “What’s for breakfast?”

“Tyrrik caught three rabbits. He saved one for you.”

Whoever said the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach was clearly raised in Verald—I thought the saying pertained more accurately to women. Either way, my heart melted just a little as I watched Tyrrik finish slicing the roast. “A whole rabbit? For me?”

Dyter looked up from the pack and nodded. “Hurry up. As soon as you’re done, we’re leaving.”