Blood Oath (Darkest Drae #1)(42)

“I commend you for keeping your enemies,” Irdelron waved first at Jotun and then at me while continuing to talk to the Drae, “close.”

Irrik took a deep breath, as if resigning himself to something distasteful. “You misunderstand—”

“No, I think not.” King Irdelron chuckled again. His gaze came to rest on me, and he reached to the vial of Phaetyn blood around his neck, touching the glass fleetingly as he watched me. “Jotun, you are dismissed. Irrik, the Phaetyn is now your charge. She is the most precious resource we have, and you will make sure you keep her alive and safe while she works the land. I bind you to this by your oath. Tomorrow, she will start in the potato fields, and we shall see just what our Phaetyn girl can do.”

A terrifying and unruly sound burst from Irrik’s chest. “Sire—”

“It wasn’t a question,” Irdelron snapped. “Now get out of here before I decide to punish your disloyalty. Take her back to the dungeon.”

Irrik barely made a sound as he appeared at my elbow, cold-faced, and grabbed my arm. His fingers wrapped around so tightly pins and needles filled my hand. Just like Jotun. Perhaps they had required training on how to grip people and maximize discomfort. Maybe they got a medal when they successfully demonstrated mastery. I bet Irrik taught a class on it.

Irrik led me from the throne room, easing the brutal pace once we’d left the rows of guards behind us. His grip lessened, too, and he sighed long and hard, sounding weary. With a veiled look toward me, he guided me back to the stairs that led to the dungeon.

As we marched down the steps, I tried to process what had happened. My mind was drowning in information, and I didn’t even know where to start categorizing. Jotun hated Irrik, and vice-versa. Irrik hated the king, and vice-versa. Irrik hated me, and vice-versa. Conclusion: Irrik was an A-hole.

“I could really kill you?” I asked with anticipation for ideas that would surely come to mind. I had no idea how my blood was lethal to him, but if it was, I’d happily spare however much it took to destroy him.

“Just try it,” he said, not even deigning to look my way. His jaw clenched, and his pulse feathered in his neck.

The scales I’d seen on his arm earlier were gone, but there was an entire patch of black reptilian skin on his shoulder. The scales disappeared under his sleeveless black aketon and then reappeared on his neck.

“Whoa, are you losing it? Are you going to shift?” I asked, reaching up with my free hand to touch his scales. My fingers brushed the small black semi-circles covering his shoulder, and I could feel his anger and hatred.

“Don’t,” he snapped, pushing me away.

I stumbled more from shock than the force of his shove. Had he not held my arm, I would’ve toppled down the stairs.

“Do that again and you’ll regret it,” he snarled, black scales covering both arms now.

I followed alongside the Drae-man mutely, reeling. I hadn’t just felt his anger and hatred. I had heard him speak, too. Like I did with Tyr.

I’d heard the words kill her.





18





As soon as I heard the outer door close, I counted to twenty. That would be plenty of time for Irrik to disappear up the stairs. If he flew, it probably took less time, like three seconds. Stupid Drae.

When he chose, Irrik seemed to be able to work around the king’s oath, which told me I’d better do my best not to incur the Drae’s wrath, especially when it was only me and him and the potatoes. Whatever power I had over him was lost to me until I understood how to use it. Whatever power he had over me was already being set in motion.

He lacked none of this knowledge.

Which meant I needed help.

I wiped my face on my tattered shift and turned to my best source of information. The wall of knowledge.

“Ty,” I called. He hadn’t answered me in what felt like days. I couldn’t handle another blow today, and terror at him being dead briefly froze me on the spot. I stood at the corner of my cell, holding onto the bars as I called to him again. Please be alive. Stretching my arm through, I tried to reach his cell, but my hand met only rough stone. “Ty, are you there?”

“Ryn?” he croaked. “Drak, what happened? I saw Jotun drag you out of your cell two hours ago.” His already hoarse voice was even raspier. “What’s going on? Are you al’right?”

Just hearing the compassion in his voice made tears spring to my eyes. My throat constricted with emotion, with feeling, for the man next door to me, who cared.

“I’m al’right. I . . . I just . . .” How could I even tell him without sounding mad? “Where have you been?”

Ty sighed, and I heard him shifting closer. “Unconscious for the most part. Jotun was worked up well and good this time.”

I rested my head against the bars. “It’s my fault he’s doing that to you, Ty. I’m so sorry.”

“He does it because nothing makes him feel pleasure, except pain. I don’t regret a thing. In fact, I may’ve mentioned that to him once or twice. He didn’t seem to appreciate it.”

“You didn’t!” I gasped. “No wonder he did a number on you.”

“Not my smartest idea, I’ll admit.” He slid down to the spot by the bars on his side. “So, how’ve you been? Made any new friends?”