Black Crown (Darkest Drae, #3)(89)

I hoped.

I took a deep breath, but my shifting attention snagged on the ring of Draedyn’s power as it began to pulse, the dark, emerald green contracting and expanding repetitively. But that wasn’t—

The sound of a chair scraping back brought my attention to the room, and I wrenched open my eyes to see the emperor on his feet, staring at me, his eyes wide. What the hay? I wasn’t doing anything. Drak, I hadn’t let something slip had I?

The barrier of power imprisoning my Drae energy steadily thinned and weakened. I doubled over as a wave of sadness and desperation flowed over me—my bond with Tyrrik hitting me for the umpteenth time that day.

I gasped, staring at my plate, but my attention was consumed by my need for my mate.

The doors of the dining room crashed open, and I glanced up to see Druman filing in. My eyes narrowed at the numbers, so many of them, and I planned to kill all of them, if possible, before they got a chance to attack the army of my friends.

My mind and soul were swallowed by rich, onyx black, my senses bathed in the color and scent of my mate’s Drae power. When it ebbed, the ring around my mind disappeared, and I slammed back in my chair as the connection to my blue tendrils pummeled me, thrashing through my body, laying its claim with full force. I growled, my eyes narrowing into slits, and my talons sliced through the table as I struggled to control the shift.

I pushed back, stumbling to my feet, and whirled away from the audience, nearly falling flat on my face as a gentle onyx tendril stroked my awareness.

Tyrrik, I called, my ache for him swelling. I sobbed at the pain of our trembling bond.

My love, he answered.

I felt him then. The surroundings, everyone and everything, were forgotten as the Druman pouring through the doorway parted, and darkness flowed into the room.

My darkness.

Joy, relief, and excitement, all tinged with horror, caught in my throat. My battling emotions competed to make a sound, but I couldn’t wait. My heart pounded, brought to life, and I launched myself at Tyrrik. He sliced through the last Druman to get to me, their bodies falling to the ground as Tyrrik stepped forward. I jumped and locked my legs and arms around him, pressing my body against his. Shaking. Babbling incoherently. Pressing my nose to his neck to inhale his familiar pine and smoke scent.

He stroked my silver hair, and I soaked in the warmth of his touch. The vibrations of his voice stirred my soul, and all I knew, for those few precious, flawless breaths, was the feel of his body, the smell of his skin, and the warmth of his love.

“Mine,” I growled.

I pulled back, or he nudged me, and then his mouth was on mine or mine on his. The flesh of his neck turned to scales under my hands as the ferocity of our reunion consumed us. One of his hands pressed on my back, the other underneath my thigh pulling me hard against him.

“Mate,” he managed to say when we separated for air.

I certainly planned to.

But the partial glimpse of a Druman over Tyrrik’s shoulder provided enough water to put out the burning hay field.

“Audience,” I murmured, kissing him again.

His lips moved against mine. I know.

He knew. Of course he knew.

I unhooked my ankles and slid down Tyrrik’s body until my feet touched the ground, the only distance either of us allowed. I blinked and began coiling my Drae powers around my mind, allowing the bubble of Phaetyn power I’d been hiding to flood my mind and coat inside my lapis lazuli energy. Time would tell if this combination was any more effective against Draedyn, but I had a good feeling about it. Compared to erecting my Phaetyn powers outside of my Drae powers, doing it the opposite way had taken the blink of an eye.

“Emperor Draedyn, I assume,” Tyrrik said, the embers of his voice reverberating through me.

I tensed. The palace was the last place I wanted Tyrrik to be. We were stronger and happier together, yes. But I’d just royally betrayed Draedyn, and he was yet to take his revenge.

What if he sought retribution through Tyrrik? My stomach seized with the thought.

Draedyn still stood, far more composed than when my mate had first begun to push him out of my head. Lips curling into a half-smile, my father said, “My daughter’s mate, I assume.”

Calling you daughter, already, huh? Tyrrik asked.

Tell me about it, I answered. Even Dyter doesn’t call me that, and he is like a father. I choked on the question I wanted to ask.

He’s not with the army. I’m sorry, love. We don’t know where Dyter is.

My stomach sank, but I forced the emotion away. I’d find out the truth and then deal with it.

I scanned the female Drae and caught them exchanging weighted glances. I couldn’t glean what they were thinking though. Their expressions could mean maybe Ryn did get a message to Tyrrik, or she has a mate and we don’t; let’s ruin her life in vengeance, or something else altogether. I didn’t know any of them well enough to get a solid read.

Draedyn moved, and I gripped Tyrrik’s arm, digging my nails in unintentionally. I would not let my father hurt my mate.

If he attacks, we fight our way to the balcony and escape. You’ll have to cover us with your Phaetyn veil, but it’ll work.

Kamoi is dead, but he still has Kamini. Once we leave, he’ll never let us return, I replied with utter certainty. No way.

Hopefully not.

I kept my face smooth. I guess it’s easier to take him out if we’re here.