Black Crown (Darkest Drae, #3)(86)

I glared at him.

“Do it,” my aunt coughed on the ground.

I tore my gaze from the emperor and closed my eyes, sliding my talons into her chest cavity like a hot knife into butter.

Draedyn released her, and her body slid from my talons and crumpled to the stone. I squeezed my eyes shut, listening to the drip of her blood from the end of my talon. I choked on a sob and coughed, opening my eyes to see one of the Druman plunge a dagger, slick with Phaetyn blood, into my aunt’s chest.

“A bit too slow,” my father said with a frown. “I’ll leave a contingency of Druman to make sure you’ve learned your lesson. You will stay with her until she’s dead.”

“No,” I gasped as Draedyn whirled on the spot and left the balcony.

I blinked, disconnected from the scene around me. The Druman moved, time didn’t stop, yet I existed in a muted bubble. There was my vomit. There was my aunt, the woman I was named after, her broken body trembling as her life bled from her. As black cracks marred her face, reacting to the Phaetyn poison in her bloodstream.

Twilight descended, and the air cooled. The Druman retreated into the dining room, leaving me and my aunt on the graphite platform.

My breaths came in rapid, shallow gulps, and I crawled over to the female Drae, my kin. My real kin.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered again. I wanted Tyrrik here.

I wanted someone to make this better.

I didn’t want to have my aunt’s blood on my . . . I swallowed, stunned with the craziness of the idea that flitted through my mind. I looked inward, covering my thoughts with my Phaetyn veil and double-checking my Drae-thread.

Aunt Ryn’s power was completely unsullied by Draedyn’s slick green energy. He’d pulled his power back at some point, leaving me a perfect opportunity. I stretched the mossy web over my aunt slowly, first covering the vibrant turquoise still around her heart and then pulling the power of invisibility over her entire body. I hunched over and whispered, “Please work.”

I’d healed Tyrrik. Ryn was my aunt, so I could totally do this. Couldn’t I? I pushed my healing-mojo into her. I imagined the edges of her skin knitting together, the Phaetyn poison burning away like Drae fire, her blood multiplying, replacing what she’d lost, and her heart pumping her power back through her. I watched the mossy green, turquoise, and lapis lazuli dance and tangle and play like old friends.

When I felt her stir beneath my hand, I opened my eyes wide and shook my head as I pressed one hand to her mouth and the other to my own, indicating we couldn’t talk. I pulled my Phaetyn net over her energy and whispered in her ear, “Don’t move.”

I pulled her body toward the ledge, doing my best to pretend to be sobbing while I huffed for air. Turning her so her feet dangled over the edge, I knelt down and focused on the bubble in my mind, whispering to her again. “I’m going to push you off the edge. I’ve got your body invisible right now, so as soon as you fall, shift and fly to Azule. Find Tyrrik.”

Her eyes widened, and she mouthed, “I can’t.”

“You have to or you’ll die. Give Tyrrik information. He knows.”

She swallowed, pain-filled eyes set on my face, a flicker of regret in their midst.

“I’ll hold the veil as long as I can,” I breathed into her bloodied, torn ear. “Please live.”

And then I shoved my aunt off the ledge of Draedyn’s palace.





34





I stumbled back into the dining room, my hands bloodied and mind still reeling with the acute memories of my aunt’s shredded body. The Druman lined the interior walls of the dining room they waited in to ensure the job was done.

“I pushed her body off the side, like Draedyn did. Is that good enough?” Unless they sent someone to check if my aunt’s body had landed below, my subterfuge would work. I glared at the mules, and when no one answered, I wondered if they were mute like in Irdelron’s castle. “Do you animals speak?”

“Done yet?” one asked, his voice rough.

I don’t know why I found it creepier that Draedyn left his Druman with their tongues, but somehow I did.

I narrowed my eyes, disturbed by how normal he looked. They all wore tunics like mine only bigger, but most of the bastards were filthy and grimy, their long hair matted with unkempt beards and broken nails. But the one who spoke had his hair pulled back, and his clean-shaven face set him apart from the others. That and his apparent language skills. “Yes,” I replied. “All done.”

“Wait,” he said and then ducked out of the door.

Was he kidding? Wait for what?

I stepped toward the doorway, and two of them closed ranks, their wide smirks only slightly less disturbing than the sadistic gleam in their eyes. Nice to see them taking after my father . . . Ew. Our father. That thought and their hulking bodies stopped me in my tracks.

My lip curled, and as I scanned the Druman, I realized I was no longer afraid of them. I wasn’t intimidated by their strength, speed, and violent tendencies. Somewhere along the line, I’d stopped reacting as a human.

I studied the sneering mule, his cruel grin matching his brother’s next to him. I glanced around the room, seeing the same expression on nearly all of the other Druman. How easy it would be to end their sadistic existence, especially with the violent energy coursing through me, begging for any outlet—to run, fight, to lash out. I could destroy them, but really I wanted to hurt the person who’d caused my aunt’s anguish. Only, I couldn’t. Not yet.