Black Crown (Darkest Drae, #3)(99)

And yet, Tyrrik was dying.

I pulled up when the Druman inched the blade over Dyter’s neck, and he cried out. I couldn’t make sense of my thoughts. Instinct screamed at me, and my mind was desperately, furiously, attempting to figure this out. Or maybe my mind knew there was no solution.

I circled wide, and the Druman released his pressure on the blade. Keeping Dyter in my line of sight and Tyrrik in my periphery, I angled to the left and landed. Swinging my tail wide once again, I cleared the area around me.

Empty space surrounded me for a heartbeat, and then the crowd converged on me. I roared and whipped my tail in figure-of-eights, the mace-like weapon plowing into the Druman and humans alike. Screams rent the air, and the tang of blood increased as the spikes tore into my attackers. Crimson warmth splattered as I raked my talons through a group of humans foolish enough to attack now, when my mate was breathing his last breath and my true father was at knife point. I’d kill them all!

Weapons bounced off my vibrant-blue scales, impenetrable without the aid of Phaetyn blood. I lashed through the foolish and stubborn mortals, ending their existence without remorse. I turned my pain and anguish upon them; they’d been complicit in Draedyn’s reign.

A sharp sting pinched my back, followed by a bolster of energy. I reeled to see who was so foolish and couldn’t stop my broad smile as I faced several dozen of my father’s mules. I charged.

Lunging forward, I snapped my jaws through two of the men and rose up on my hind legs to toss their bodies wide. I roared again and swung my forelegs in an arc, letting my talons carve through those who remained. I brought my front legs back to the ground as a group of Druman moved as a pack toward me. Wielding my head as a weapon, I reared back and then hurtled down. The horns atop my thick skull hit the group, impaling three of them and sending two more airborne.

I stomped the ground and bellowed, challenging anyone. Everyone. I would not stop until I reached my loved ones’ sides.

I could feel my mate as I shifted back to my Phaetyn form. I couldn’t see him, but he was still alive, his pain consuming. His vitality was draining rapidly. I tried to burn out the golden Phaetyn blood, but with the number of distractions to still deal with, I couldn’t give him the singular focus needed. I sent waves of my healing power to him during the brief silence as additional enemies sprinted to attack, but they were too far away to stop me. I shoved more power at him and pleaded, Hold on, Tyrrik. Hold on . . .

I had to kill Draedyn. Only then would this madness stop. I stepped in the direction of his emerald power, my fangs and talons lengthening on their own accord as I prepared to fight.

My father stood in the center of the clearing. I froze as the scene before me bludgeoned my chest; my breath completely stolen. To Draedyn’s right were Kamini and the two dead Phaetyn; to his left Dyter stood with the Veraldian woman, a Druman behind him with the knife.

And in front of my father was my mate. Tyrrik lay face down, unmoving.

“No,” I cried. My heart shattered, and I screamed, “No.”

“Ryn?” Dyter moved his head slightly to the right and flinched. His face was covered in bruises and dried blood. The Druman pressed the blade tight against Dyter’s throat, and he froze. His split lip oozed fresh crimson horror to mix with all the other evidence of pain he’d had to endure. Next to Dyter, the servant from Verald wept incoherent pleas for assistance. Behind the Druman holding a knife to Dyter stood a row of Azulis, their weapons aimed at the Druman.

I blinked, trying to understand . . . Was this a stand off? If so, why were the Azuli’s turning on the Druman?

My gaze returned to Dyter again and saw what I had not seen before. The gore smeared over Dyter’s face was merely the remains of his now-empty eye sockets. I growled and swung my attention back to my father.

His talons lengthened, and I screamed.

The Azulis released their arrows into the Druman, and the Veraldian woman pulled Dyter into the dirt as the mules fell behind them. I had no idea why the Azulis were helping, but Dyter was out of immediate danger.

Draedyn turned, his neck elongated, and his head morphed as he opened his mouth and blew a stream of molten flame at the archers. The men disappeared, and their ash gusted, rising and falling on the breeze as the wind swirled around us. Eerie silence fell as the powdery residue of the men settled.

Then there were the six of us. At the end, Draedyn, Kamini, Dyter, and the Veraldian servant, me, and my dying mate.

Draedyn grinned. “Hello, heir-daughter.”

I couldn’t answer. My voice was twisted and hiding in the mess that was my heart, and I couldn’t be bothered to find it for him.

“I did my best to save your mate.” Draedyn kicked the assassin’s body back with his foot and waved me forward. “You better heal him.”

Was this another trap? Probably, but it didn’t matter. The compulsion to heal Tyrrik was overwhelming. My body trembled with the need to go to him. I dropped to my knees and pulled the blades out of his back, letting the Phaetyn blood buoy my own power. As I started to burn the golden power out, I gasped as Tyrrik pressed images into my mind. Draedyn shredding the Phaetyn children’s bodies with the small daggers before giving them to his Druman to finish Tyrrik. Even now, Draedyn was trying to keep me at his side with his lies. Rage swelled within me. He’d hurt my mate.

I shifted the talons on my right hand, driving them deep into my thigh, just like I’d done when I’d almost killed my aunt, and then I rotated my entire torso as I drove my talons back, slashing through my father’s tunic and deep into his chest.