Black Crown (Darkest Drae, #3)(88)

Several of my bones were still broken, and I sagged in his grip. The coppery tang of my blood made me spit through my busted lip, but I lifted my gaze to meet my father’s and sucked in a breath at the endless rage still burning inside of them. My glib sorry, not sorry retort died on my lips.

“I got angry,” I said instead. Vague, but maybe it would work?

“You betrayed me,” Draedyn snarled. “You killed my Druman.”

Eek, maybe not. I’d pull on his heartstrings instead. “I don’t like Druman. They used to torture me.”

He shook me, his face still contorted with rage. “They made you stronger.”

“Yeah?” I scoffed, trying to ignore the bruising pressure of his fingertips digging into the bony protrusions of my neck. “What if I’d rather be untortured and weaker?”

Fury hung upon the emperor like a thin coat, like he’d washed with soap that had irritated his skin. Whatever my reasons for killing approximately two-dozen of his Druman, he would try to make me regret it. Not going to happen.

I hoped.

Draedyn didn’t lower me, continuing to stare into my watering eyes. “I had thought, my daughter, your ignorance may fade with time. Had hoped you would see we are not enemies, and yet . . . You just killed a sizeable number of my elite fighting force.”

“A sizeable number? How many are we talking?” Oops, too happy, Ryn. Pull back on the happiness.

Draedyn’s face screwed up, and no sooner had I felt relief from the release of his punishing grip than that small pain was replaced by the crushing impact against the far wall.

Wheezing, I rolled away from the wall but stayed on the ground. If he wanted to throw me again, he’d have to come pick me up.

“I am displeased, daughter.” His volume increased with his nearing footsteps. “I find myself wondering if it is not better to neutralize you until the—”

I flopped my head to the side to squint up at him, wondering why he’d cut off mid-sentence. The emperor had shifted, half turned toward the balcony, and his body tensed. In the next moment, Draedyn blurred outside.

What was he looking at?

With a groan, I pushed my still-healing body upright. Best case, if he threw me from the cliff, I could disappear before I shifted Drae. Bolstered by this confidence—what with recent developments of private bubbles and the like, I hobbled after him.

Draedyn faced west toward Azule. I didn’t know what he could hear, but my insides burst with joy with what I could see.

Lani’s golden net covered a massive army. Men spread over the entrance to his personal lands, covering the valley, a stunning beacon of armor, fluttering banners, and glinting spearheads.

The battering from my close encounters with recent walls did nothing to stop a wide grin from stretching across my face. Elation rose within me, forcing me to clamp my Phaetyn veil over the emotion as I struggled to hold back a shout of joy. They were here. My friends were here to fight.

The sight burned into my mind, and I blinked the tears from my eyes. A fist tightened in the area beneath my ribs; the fierce determination to see the battle through to the end grew and became a calling unlike any I’d felt before. The resolution flooded through me, filling my mind and body. I’d be fighting with them. Maybe not beside them, but I’d do whatever it took to help them.

My attention returned to the room’s only other occupant to see Draedyn’s gaze was no longer on the valley but on my face.

I raised my chin although my grin faded at the impassive expression before me.

“We are back to the start, daughter,” he said, his gaze narrowing.

I frowned despite myself, having fully expected to be flying off the edge of the cliff sans wings.

A cruel smile curved his lips. “I see I am not being persuasive enough.”





When I drank an entire bottle of honey syrup one time, I expected the backlash. I knew my mother would find the bottle eventually unless the world was upturned in the interim. I understood there would be repercussions, but the sweet taste, all to myself, was worth it.

When I’d killed my father’s Druman several hours ago, I’d known the act of defiance wouldn’t go unpunished.

And yet it had. The room had been cleared of bodies and scrubbed clean, although that didn’t completely remove the slight rustic tang of Druman blood in the air.

I cut into the morsel of roasted chicken on my plate after everyone was served, struggling to ignore the fierce glares aimed at me by the other female Drae. To them, my aunt and Draelyn were dead and gone. Two women they’d known for at least one hundred years. And while they were wrong about the former, they were right about Draelyn. Considering, I could handle a few glares. With how they were feeling, angry dark looks were pretty justified.

In fact, their attention was the least of my concerns. I was frantically working to figure out Draedyn’s next move. He’d killed Kamoi because he’d betrayed me and the Phaetyn. He’d nearly torn Aunt Ryn apart because she’d acted against him. How much of my betrayal was he aware of?

I wasn’t lured into false hope by the delay between the deed and the reaction, but the dragging time slowly chipped away at my forced nonchalance. My sleep had been restless, and despite the time in my chamber, I still didn’t feel collected.

I closed my eyes against the Draes’ glares and studied the ring of my father’s power around my mind. My private bubble was there, the wisp of my Drae power safe within. I still had these things. I didn’t wish to use any of these untested defenses against Draedyn yet, but if whatever payback he was cooking up was more than I could bear, I had something.