Black Crown (Darkest Drae, #3)(91)

I trembled as I fumbled blindly with the ties of his aketon.

The remaining shreds of my clothes fell to the floor as well as his aketon. Apparently, I could multitask.

Ryn. Please, he begged. I need you.

Yes, I breathed. My own need to feel him just as strong. Mate. Now we were both monosyllabic.

His hands slid under my thighs, and then he lifted me.

The world, and all of the problems in it, disappeared. The bands of our bonds danced together, entwined, melding as our passion and bodies became one.

Time ceased to have meaning.

We lay staring at each other in the aftermath, sheet drawn up to our hips, our legs tangled together beneath it.

I felt so strong when Tyrrik was by my side.

I was not made to be parted from you, Ryn. He shuddered with the words, his desperate relief echoing through to me.

Hush now, love. I traced my fingertips over his exposed chest which shined from our recent love-making. He captured my hand and held it to his lips.

A moment later, he tugged me closer, tucking me under his arm so I was pressed against his side. I wrapped my arm around him, and emboldened by the lingering fear I felt in him, I climbed on top of him. Trailing kisses from his abdomen to his neck, I sent small pulses of healing energy through our bond to buoy him, replenishing him in every way that I could.

He responded, and his frantic movements quickened my own.

This time, after we’d both shuddered with release, his eyes closed and a small smile played at the corners of his mouth. He whispered, I love you.

I pressed close, our chests together as I sent him another burst of healing power with my kiss. I love you too. You rest. Before he could protest, I pressed my fingers to his lips. We need it, you more than me, just for an hour or two. Then we’ll plan.

Al’right, he said, making me grin. Tyrrik's breathing soon evened into a slow rhythm.

I was not such a fool to believe my father had changed his intentions. But I didn’t know his plan either. With another kiss for Tyrrik, I rolled out of bed. I pulled a clean sack tunic on and grabbed a second one, intent on a short bath if the halls were clear.

Lucky for me, they were. I checked my powers, grinning as I saw my lapis lazuli happily entangled with Tyrrik’s onyx energy, and there was my Phaetyn web. No oily green nastiness in sight. Good, good.

A Druman stopped me before I reached the stairs, his eyes narrowing in a glare. I returned the look and said, “Don’t mess with me. I have no problem severing your head from your neck if you get between me and my bath. I’m not aiming for trouble, so go back and report to Daddykins.”

The smart mule stepped aside. In a blur, I grabbed his knife as I passed. Not that I needed it, but I didn’t want him to have it either. I ducked into the dark stairwell and started down. If I put on the Phaetyn veil, I was afraid Draedyn would come looking for me, and I hadn’t lied. My intent had been a bath, but as I approached the sulfurous pools, I thought I heard someone behind me and turned. I studied the dark, shifting enough to bring my Drae eyes forward. There was a Druman standing there. Why?

As soon as he turned away, I decided to take the risk. I put up my Phaetyn veil and snuck after him. He’d disappeared into an alcove in the corner, and I creeped to it on silent feet.

I waited another couple of minutes, reaching my Drae power through to feel Tyrrik’s peace through our bonds, and with assurance of his current safety, I darted to the alcove, pursing my lips at the narrow stairwell. Even with my Drae vision, I couldn’t see to the bottom, and my gut churned a gentle warning. What was down there? Decision made, I ran down the stairs.

At the bottom of the stairwell, a long hall extended into the mountain of graphite. There was no light, and even with my Drae vision, the misty darkness made it difficult to see. The smell of sulfur hung heavy in the moist air, and I rotated my arms to trail my fingers along the walls on either side. Only a couple dozen feet down the hall, a gap opened up on my right. I peeked through the doorway and froze when I saw the bars. Cold iron rods, just like in Irdelron’s dungeons, made my stomach roil. I blinked, but the vision didn’t change. These were Draedyn’s dungeons.

The Druman was here, inspecting each cell, and I stood back, safe in my veil as he finished and walked back up the stairs to the top.

I inched forward to see the occupant in the closest cell.

My heart tripped as I looked into the lavender eyes of an emaciated Phaetyn curled in the back corner of the cell. Vivid images from my past assailed me, and I reached a hand up to touch my forehead where a sunflower had once woken me in a dungeon much like this.

I reached out another Drae tendril to my mate for reassurance.

Ryn?

I’m al’right. Just a bad memory. I was outside the cage, at least for now, anyway.

Do you want me to come to you?

No. I’ll be back in a few minutes. Let me take a bath.

I could join you.

I snorted in my mind. Then I wouldn’t bathe. Let me be.

“Who are you?” the Phaetyn asked, the high pitch of her voice declaring her a female.

Right, she would be able to see through my veil.

I stretched the mossy-green webbing over, covering her and our conversation from the Druman above.

“Ryn,” I whispered. “Who are you?”

“Ash. Are you here to drain me?” When I shook my head, she sagged, smiling slightly, or maybe that was a grimace. “I haven’t seen a female Drae for probably twenty years.”