Blood Oath (Darkest Drae #1)(57)

Holy-freaking-Drae.

The water swished and droplets poured from Irrik as he climbed out. I patted the ground, feeling for the aketon he’d mentioned, my skin prickling with energy.

“Here,” he said, his gravelly voice a whisper on my neck.

Blushing, I straightened, and he pulled the garment over my head.

Drak. What was wrong with me? Yes, he was hotness with wings, but he was the Drae. I delivered a major reality check to myself as I wrapped the ties of the aketon as tightly as possible. The stupid thing was so big I practically swam in it. “What about my clothes?”

He snorted. “They’re ruined.”

Of course they were. I patted the thin fabric to my body, letting the cloth wick the moisture from my skin, then pulled the bottom hem up to my head.

“What are you doing?” he asked, clearing his throat.

“Drying my hair,” I said, words muffled between the folds of fabric. “It’s cool in here, and my wet hair is making it worse.”

I did the best I could, but my hair was still damp. With a sigh, I let the aketon fall to my knees and turned to the left. “What’s next? Did I get my work done? Are we staying here for a while?”

“I’m over here,” he said from my right with a low chuckle. “We’re going back to Seven. It’s only afternoon, and you have several hours of work to finish before we return to the castle at sundown.”

I took a deep breath, wishing there was some way to not have to go back. I never wanted to see the damage, the ruination, of Harvest Zone Seven ever again. With Seven gone, there was no hope of ever getting a message to Cal, because I had no idea where Dyter would now be or if he was even alive. Which meant Ty’s plan was no longer an option. All my hopes for escape had gone up in smoke with those I loved and their homes. I dropped my chin to my chest, sucking in air as I fully grasped the king’s blow. He’d swiped away my home and unknowingly destroyed my hope, just like that. I glared into the darkness as determination pulsed through me. I was not going to let him destroy my land, my home, and my family and not pay for it.

“Irrik?” I asked. “Did . . . anyone live?”

He paused. “Most got out.” His tone was foreboding, and I knew not to press him further. I didn’t need to. Most got out. My heart tripped with hope at his words. Maybe Arnik and Dyter had escaped. Perhaps they were still okay.

The time in the pool of nectar had healed my body and rejuvenated me. The news from Irrik regarding the inhabitants of Seven still being alive made me giddy. The darkness offered enough anonymity that I braved a question I’d long wondered. “Is it true about your oath to the king?”

If I could understand this, maybe I could understand Irrik. Here in his lair, I dared to ask him, and in my mind I dared him to answer.

He stood in front of me now. I felt him, his strong presence, the warmth radiating from his chest, reeling me closer. He rested his hands on my shoulders, and I looked up. But I was blind in the darkness. He could’ve stuck his tongue out at me and I wouldn’t know. I chuckled with the ridiculousness of the thought. Warm tingles of energy spread from where his hands were, and my thoughts went to another time when his mouth had been on mine. My heart quickened, and yearned to close the distance, even as warning bells chimed in my head.

“Whatever ideas you have for escape, forget them,” he said, his voice husky. He stepped closer, pushing his body to mine as one arm encircled my waist, holding me flush. “Whatever traitorous aspirations you’re hoping for, let them go. More than anything, don’t trust anyone.”

We were playing a game of chicken with our words, and he was pushing me with his body. I swallowed my nervousness and pressed back. My hands slid up his chest, and I smirked when he sucked in a breath. “What about you?” I whispered, playing with the tendrils of hair at the nape of his neck. “Should I trust you?”

Despite the playfulness of my question, it was in earnest. I wasn’t ignorant that Lord Irrik had helped me more than once. But his motivation eluded me. Certainly, his game with the king wasn’t that twisted. Was it?

The Drae’s chest rose and fell against mine. He circled the back of my neck with his hands, setting every nerve ending in my body on fire. He lowered his head, his breath caressing my skin with the sweet smell of the nectar, and I licked my lips and inhaled. Irrik kneaded my neck with his fingertips and spread his hands over my back. With a gentle touch, he massaged my shoulders, working out knots I didn’t even know I had. I moaned, and he kneaded harder, down my back, and when his hands fell to my waist, he pulled me to him.

“Especially not me,” he said with an exhale.

A stupor blanketed the warning voice in my mind, and I pushed closer, threading my fingers into his damp hair.

Black scales appeared at the top of his chest, the centers pulsing blue. His nose skimmed the soft skin of my neck, tracing under my jaw to my ear. He pushed his lips to my neck in soft kisses. He nipped, and I threw my head back to give him better access.

My mind clouded with desire and want, and the voice of warning faded. I forgot everything else except my need for him. Gripping his shoulders, I begged, “Please.”

He growled, a low sound of lustful hunger that called for me to feed him.

“Please,” I whispered, standing up on my tiptoes, pushing my body to his as I pulled him to me.

He crushed his mouth to mine.