Blood Oath (Darkest Drae #1)(73)

Except when his lips parted in front of mine, I forgot to will anything and a wave of emotion rushed over me. I lowered with a gasp.

“Ryn,” he murmured, touching his forehead to mine, warm breath caressing my face. “What was that? I’ve . . . I’ve never felt anything like that before.”

I stared at him, having no idea myself, but understanding on some deep level that we’d just shared something beautiful.

His dark eyes were vibrant and pulsing with energy. He was focused on me in a gaze of what could only be called reverence. His skin was smooth and almost glowing with health. His arms held me close, protectively.

“Do you feel better?” I asked breathlessly.

He nodded, blinking as he clenched his fists and moved his head. “Yes, Khosana.”

An ache in my chest lightened. “Good.”

Lord Irrik took a deep breath, and grim determination took over. “Do you trust me?”

His question caught me off guard, and I hesitated. Did I trust him? Not like I trusted Tyr. How could you fully trust someone who was controlled by another?

“Never mind,” he said. “Just . . . If you get out of here, someday, make sure you go to the Zivost Forest. Go out through Zone Two into the mountains. Don’t stop until you reach the woods. Perhaps there are still Phaetyn there. They are powerful enough to withstand me if the king finds a way to send me after you through the oath. I . . . I won’t be able to hunt you there, and the Phaetyn will train you.”

I smiled at him, a sad acknowledgment of my grim reality. “Thank you. That is kind of you, but we both know I won’t be leaving.”

I walked into my cell and sat cross-legged on the bed. The words escaped before I could stop them. “Is Tyr still alive?”

The Drae pursed his lips and gave a curt nod. “Toliko vam volim kraljicu.”

This time I snorted. “I have no idea what that means,” I said with a yawn.

But there was one good thing to happen in this never-ending nightmare, at least.

Tyr was alive.





30





The click of a key in a lock awoke me. I sat, disoriented, my sluggish mind dredging up awful images of Arnik’s death and a lingering nightmare of Irrik burning me with his terrible fire. But there were other images, too—like me kissing Irrik—that brought confusion. What was I thinking?

My thoughts dissipated when a hooded figure entered my cell.

“Tyr?” I whispered, certain I was still dreaming.

Instead of rushing to me, he waved me to the door, staying outside.

I crossed my cell, and he reached for me, pulling me to him, the bars between us. As soon as our skin touched, I heard his thoughts.

I’ve been so worried. He brushed his lips to my forehead. I have no time to explain. Please listen. When I said nothing, he continued. My love, you must escape.

My heart stuttered and I blinked several times. “You love me?”

I have loved you from the first moment I laid eyes on you.

“In the torture room?”

He pressed a whisper of a kiss to my lips. Before that.

Tyr loved me. A fierce joy bubbled inside me, and a grin spread across my face despite my attempts to control it. I peeked up at him and lifted a hand to stroke his jaw.

“I love you, too, Tyr.” We shared an intense, desperate love born of the constant threat to our lives. My heart was full of this man, and my soul knew him. I sighed. “I’m not leaving without you.”

How was it possible that Irrik told me to leave and then maybe a dozen hours later Tyr showed up to let me out? Even in my exhausted stupor I knew they must be working together. “What about you and Irrik?”

Tyr stilled. What?

“You heard me. When are you and Irrik going to escape? And what about Ty? Or was he the one who betrayed me?”

Tension rolled off Tyr in waves. When he pulled me to him, I went willingly, though seeing the walls of his secrets more clearly than ever before. Putting my hand to his cheek, I pushed my thoughts at him. Do you know who betrayed the rebels?

He nodded, slowly. A clank down the hall made us both jump. Tyr let go of me, set the key on the floor, and kicked it to me.

I stared at the glinting object.

Holy-freaking-Drae. I had a key.

When I looked up, Tyr was gone.



I sat in the dark and counted to one hundred at least a dozen times. By then, I felt ready to crawl out of my skin.

I fumbled with the key in the lock for a minute before I heard it click open, and I let out a shaking breath when I stepped through the doorway. I passed Ty’s cell, a rumpled blanket on a mattress was the only evidence he’d been there. Curiosity seized me, and I stopped to see if the key would work on his cell.

It did. The door creaked as I swung it open, and I moved into my prison buddy’s abandoned space. There was no way to know how long he’d been gone.

I lifted the blanket and discovered a heap of rumpled fabric underneath. I reached down, pulled up the loose fabric, and stared at it in stunned silence. It was a navy aketon.

A Druman aketon.

Ty told me Jotun had poured acid down his throat, and that was why he rasped. But that wasn’t why at all. How much of his Druman throat was damaged? Which of the king’s Druman had played me the fool? Had he gone back to his Druman buddies and laughed over me pouring my heart out to him about my mother?