Black Crown (Darkest Drae, #3)(30)

I blinked at him, struggling to understand the emotions assailing me through our bond. But this made no sense, the guilt he felt. “I asked you to remain behind.”

“And I knew better,” he growled, clenching his hands. “I should have followed you.”

I took a step closer, needing to soothe him. I shook my head, protesting his supposition. “Then you would have gone against my wishes.”

“Then so be it,” he snarled, tilting his face to the night sky. “I would rather you hated me again than to feel your helplessness when Draedyn controlled you.”

My mouth opened. And closed. My mind stuttering as it processed his words. “I . . . I thought we were getting better at this.”

He shuddered and hunched away from me, scales climbing the sides of his neck. His emotional turmoil wracked him, and I ached to make it go away, but what could I say? I kept still as he controlled the instinct to shift.

Tyrrik stopped shaking but didn’t turn back. When he spoke, his voice was weary. “Ryn, you know I have tried. And I don’t plan to stop trying.”

I waited. There was a definite but on the end of his sentence.

He blurred forward and took my hands. “Please, my love. Promise me you will never ask me to be parted from you again. You know I would move the world itself to make you happy. But please, please do not ask me to leave you unprotected again.”

My heart lodged in my throat. My Drae, my mate, was begging. A man who had held strong through one hundred years of enslavement was now pleading. And yet, though my heart ached as his heart ached, and my soul burned as his soul burned, could I lie to both of us and grant his request?

We were immortal. To promise such a thing for one year, for two, seemed honest. To promise to never be out of reach of my mate for eternity didn’t seem possible.

I understood his fear was raw. I understood he’d been terrified. Hadn’t we both been clinging to each other for strength a moment before?

But I couldn’t lie. Not to him, and not to myself.

“Tyrrik,” I whispered. “I promise to never leave your side . . . unless I believe I have to. Unless it’s life or death.”

His harsh exhales were accusations in the silky darkness. “But you would leave my side again?” he asked, his condemning gaze drilling into mine. “After I have begged you not to, you still would go?”

I swallowed. Did he think I wanted to? “You can’t protect me from everything, Tyrrik. That is not a burden I want you to carry. No one should have to.”

“It is who I am!” he roared. “I am a Drae. You are mine to protect. It is my privilege and my purpose.”

“I am yours,” I said, drawing myself up. “Just as you are mine.” I reached for him, waving him to come back to me, and my voice dropped to an earnest whisper. “But I will not lie to you, and I will not let you take responsibility for my actions. I’m not going to abandon you, but I—”

Tyrrik brushed away my reaching hands.

“Tyrrik,” I said. “Please understand.” My heart ached to make this right, but I had no idea how. I couldn’t compromise on what I knew was right. “I won’t ask permission for everything I do.”

He’d turned to leave but stopped, looking over his shoulder. His profile showed his fangs had lengthened, and scales covered his arms and neck. “I understand you will do what you believe to be right.”

I sighed in relief.

“Just as I will do what I believe to be right,” he finished.

I stayed rooted to the spot, as Tyrrik stalked away from the elm without another backward glance.





I awoke early. Even curled against Tyrrik, my sleep had been restless. Not just because our argument hung heavy between us, but today the Phaetyn would start their march toward Gemond.

“Khosana,” Tyrrik murmured, pulling my back against the length of his body.

The warmth of his presence only made my heart hurt more. I rested my head against his arm, reviewing the words I’d rehearsed in the dark. “I’m sorry I hurt your feelings last night.”

I held my breath, waiting for his answer.

“And I am sorry to have hurt yours.” He pressed his lips on top of my hair.

What we hadn’t said seemed to speak louder—but I refused to retract what I’d said.

Yet I loved him. There was so much chaos surrounding us that having contention between us didn’t seem right. I rolled to face him, seeing my conflict reflected in his gaze as we stared, unspeaking, at each other. We didn’t have to agree on everything to be together. I knew that. And he knew that. Searching his face, I wiggled my arm free and rested my hand against his cheek. His whiskers were rough on my skin, and his heat trickled into me. Biting my lip, I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his.

Searing heat pulsed between us, and the urge for more thrummed through me. Tyrrik growled, nipping at my lip, and his hands gripped my waist and pulled me closer. Our tongues brushed against each other, and I arched, instinctively pressing my body tighter to his, gasping when he trailed hot kisses down my neck, stopping to suck the sensitive skin. Our bodies were tugged closer together as though a rope had been jerked tight about our middles. My feet found purchase on his calves, pushing me up on their own accord. My thoughts clouded with want, and I pressed harder into Tyrrik, aching for more. Tyrrik’s hands seemed to be everywhere, my waist, my thigh, then higher on my torso, his thumb grazing the underside of my breast.