Black Crown (Darkest Drae, #3)(27)

“Lani,” I said, shaking my head. “This isn’t your fault. You saw what I—” I swallowed hard. “You saw what I did.”

“But you know, Draedyn is Ryn’s father,” Tyrrik said darkly. “He was controlling her actions.”

Lani swallowed. The Phaetyn queen scrubbed her tears away and crossed to a cushioned futon, perching on the gilded edge. “I knew Ryn would never hand Kamini over of her own volition. But”—her gaze went from Tyrrik to me—“How was he able to do that?”

I tilted my head back to look up at my mate. I didn’t want to voice my guess out loud.

He avoided my gaze, and I frowned at the uncharacteristic gesture, recalling his comment about the attack being his fault.

“Draedyn is the alpha of our kind,” he answered. “This makes Drae susceptible to his will. But Ryn also shares a familial bond with him. Influencing her”—a low growl slipped through Tyrrik’s lengthening teeth as he fought to control his Drae—“controlling her will be easier because of this bond.”

“That would’ve been nice to know beforehand,” snapped Lani.

I blinked at her uncharacteristic outburst, but my mind replayed Tyrrik’s words.

The Phaetyn sighed, rubbing her temples. “I’m sorry. I know that’s not helping.”

“No, you’re right,” I said, chest tightening again. “I-I knew he’d be able to impose his will. Tyrrik had told me. I just didn’t realize his control could overpower my own. I should have taken it more seriously.” But what could I have done against him, really? How could I possibly fight against such power?

“We’ll work on your defenses,” Tyrrik said, squeezing my waist.

I stared around the glistening quartz room. The chamber appeared to have everything, but really it was empty aside from the few bits of furniture which made it functional. The room and I had a lot in common.

“I felt something similar in Gemond,” I said, straightening. “When Draedyn was flying overhead. I had this weird moment where I wanted him to find us.”

“Really?” Lani dropped her hands. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t think anything of it,” I said numbly. “I didn’t realize the thoughts weren’t mine; in the same way I don’t notice I’m breathing all day. It just happened, and then it was gone right when you put up your gold veil. It must have kept him out.”

“You were in your Phaetyn form too,” she replied. “Maybe that helped.”

“And I was closer to Tyrrik,” I added. The events of the night played over in my mind again. “I regained slightly more control as Tyrrik drew near. The closer he got to the forest tonight . . .” The truth hit me, and I looked at my mate and said, “My resistance to Draedyn is stronger when you’re close.”

A heavy silence followed my words, and Tyrrik cleared his throat, breaking the stupor. He turned his attention to the Phaetyn, an impassive mask falling over his features, leaving me chilled.

“Queen Lani,” he said. “Your people need direction. You need to pull yourself together.”

My people, she mouthed, and then she exploded. “On my first night of rule, I get so drunk I can’t complete the barrier, and Draedyn slaughters fifty of my people, taking the prince and princess and at least two more.” Her eyes shifted to me. “I come to ‘my people’ with a Phaetyn-Drae who gives the princess over to our enemy.”

I froze, anguish slamming into me.

Lani rushed to add. “That’s merely what the Phaetyn are thinking, Ryn. You must see how they’ll mistrust you even when I explain what happened. You both must see how wary this will make them.”

Knowing her words were true did nothing to lessen the hurt as she spoke them.

A menacing rumble filled Tyrrik’s chest, and I could feel his ire rising on my behalf. “Watch what you say, Phaetyn.”

“Do not forget yourself,” Lani whipped back with a glare, shooting to her feet.

A menacing smile curved his lips, and his skin rippled as scales climbed up his neck. “And do not make the mistake of forgetting who I am.”

“You’re right,” I whispered, releasing my pride. Tyrrik’s arm tightened around my waist, and I held up my hand wearily before he could reassure me. “No, I’m serious. This isn’t a pity party. This isn’t a blame game. I screwed up. I should’ve been working harder on my defenses. Maybe I should’ve realized what the emperor was doing or what he was capable of, but now that I know . . . I’ll shovel dung uphill to work on overcoming that weakness.” No one controls me.

I met Lani’s eyes across the room. “And you need to get the barrier up. Then we need to save Kamini and Kamoi—”

“How do you know they’re even alive?” Lani asked harshly, her grip tightening on the crown she still held. “How do you know he hasn’t killed them?”

Tyrrik answered, “Why would he kill them when they are the perfect hostages?”

A glint of hope entered the Phaetyn’s violet eyes, but she deflated again as her gaze fell on the crown. She curled into herself and bowed her head. “I can’t put up the barrier. I’m not strong enough.” She sucked in a strangled breath and added, “I couldn’t even do it as my people burned.” She dropped the crown to the quartz floor, watching the ornate circlet rattle around and eventually settle. “I’m not Queen.”