Black Crown (Darkest Drae, #3)(6)
3
“You fear becoming dependent. You think dependency makes you weak.”
We sat in our room on his bed talking. I was supposed to be packing, and when he offered to help, I’d hoped that was code for kissing. But no. Instead, Tyrrik did this. Talking.
I rolled my eyes at his comment. He used to call me out in a subtle way: a look, a veiled comment. Now, he just came right out with it. I hated it. I hated that he was right even more.
And why did we need to talk about my feelings—I’d much prefer to discuss a random stranger’s. “Aren’t men supposed to not like chinwags? I’m sure there’s a book on that. Why are you mushy inside?”
Tyrrik raised his brow. “I had a lot of time on my hands. I spent a fair amount of it studying humans’ behavior.”
“I’m not human,” I said, crossing my arms.
Tyrrik chuckled, a low sound that rumbled in his chest and bounced around in my head before settling in the deep cavity underneath the left side of my ribs, which I strongly suspected was my heart. Or possibly a terminal disease.
“You were raised to think like a human. Like a mortal. That is part of why you’re having a hard time with accepting the mate-bond even though you carry my mate mark on your neck.”
I froze, blinking at him before remembering to keep up my cool facade. There he went with the M-word again. And the double M-word. I had a small onyx mark on the side of my neck where Tyrrik first touched me. It showed up after I’d accepted him as my mate a week ago when we saved Lani. Like I belonged to him.
“Think of our sister moons,” he said. “What is the purpose of our moons?”
Was this a lesson? I shrugged. “They light up the night.”
Surprisingly, Tyrrik nodded at my answer. “Does the brightness of one moon take away from the other?”
“No.” This was stupid. “I see where you’re going. But we’re not sisters, and we’re not moons.” He needed to get better examples if we were going to be a M-thing.
“You’re right; we’re Drae, and we are mates. Being mates does not make either of us less than we were. It just is.”
Ouch. The cavity under my ribs panged again. I thought I’d been doing the whole mate thing pretty well. At least well enough that Tyrrik didn’t suspect my lingering fears. Clearly, I’d failed.
His face softened. “When you’re in Zivost, please keep yourself safe. It is painful to my heart and mind for us to be apart, but if this is what you need to appreciate what being a mate means, I will do it. For you, not because those pointy-eared idiots need a leader.”
That terminal disease spot in my chest panged again. Maybe there was something wrong with me. I wasn’t sure what to say, so I peered around the chamber I shared with Dyter and Tyrrik, hoping the Drae would break the heavy silence.
I wanted this; I needed the time and space away from Tyrrik, enough so that I knew what I felt for him wasn’t just attraction or instinct or the mate bond or whatever. I wanted my heart, my head, and my body to be on the same page because I chose it, not because of a black mark on my neck.
Deciding to grow a pair of potatoes, I forced my eyes to meet his. Tyrrik studied my face as though memorizing every curve, and then leaned forward, brushing his lips against mine. His scent swirled around me, smoke and pine, just long enough to make my head spin before he pulled away.
That’s it? I threw his way. I’m going away for days, and you’re going to give me a little peck? I thought you said I meant something to you.
This time, I met him halfway, scooting closer when our lips met. My mouth melded against his, and I sighed, clutching his shoulders.
The bed covers bunched between us, and I growled, swiping them aside to crawl onto my knees and bring us closer still.
Tyrrik’s lips were firm and warm. No one else knew that but me. Everyone else thought he was cold and hard, but I knew better. When his arm circled my waist to pull me closer, I grinned, peeking up at him as I bit my lip. He nipped at the spot when I released it, and I opened my mouth to him again. His tongue brushed and then tangled with mine, tasting of the sweetest nectar. His heat seemed to stroke me, luring me flush against him. The colors bouncing in the gem-encrusted room were augmented by the glow of our bond. The air around us crackled, and the steady smoulder in my belly exploded into something far more frantic. Tyrrik pulled me onto his lap, and I circled my arms around his neck, running my fingers through his midnight hair. My midnight.
Tyrrik’s hands dropped to my waist, and I sucked in a breath, my hands twisting in his aketon. Heat and passion swirled between us. Right now, I couldn’t feel what was mine and what was his.
I love you, Ryn.
His words hit my heart. The rawness within them brought me back to reality with a resounding boom. That was why I was going. I wanted to be able to say those words to him. I wanted to be able to assure him that I felt as strongly for him as he did for me, but I wouldn’t say the words until I was absolutely certain of their truth.
Want and need were not the same thing.
A knock at the door interrupted us, and Tyrrik groaned as I scrambled off his lap.
“You’re not the one who could be caught by your pretty-much dad,” I reminded him then winced and said, “Again.”
“I need to see Ryn,” Lani said in her childlike voice, but the undercurrent tone wasn’t childlike at all. “We need to practice something before we leave.”