He did not just say mating. Drak, no. I backed away from him, suddenly needing distance. It hit me. “You knew I was Drae? This whole time? Was it my itchy arms?”
Irrik exhaled. “No, that’s when I knew your transformation was close. I knew you were Drae the first time I touched you. I recognized you as my kind. But I first knew you were both Phaetyn and Drae when your mother told me, before . . .”
She killed herself. “My mother was Drae,” I said in a daze. I’d suspected it once before, long ago, believing if she was that would mean I wasn’t actually her daughter. But my mother had been Drae, and I was her daughter. That was something, it was outweighed by everything else at the moment, but it was something.
“The Phaetyn blade that killed her . . .” I had to know but couldn’t actually ask.
Irrik’s eyes flashed black, and his fangs lengthened. He trembled for a long moment before answering. “Yours.”
I closed my eyes as a dead weight landed in my stomach. It shouldn’t mean anything. I hadn’t been the one to put the blood on there or shove it into my mother . . . but my blood had killed her.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked, hugging myself.
My question fell flat. I knew the answer before he parted his lips. Shaking my head, I answered my own question. “Because you couldn’t trust me.”
“Ryn, I—”
“No.” I held up my hand to stop his excuse. I didn’t want to hear him say it. My heart couldn’t take anymore. “It’s fine. You couldn’t risk it in case Jotun got it out of me, or I screwed up in front of the king. I get it. Truly.” I’d made that mistake with Ty. Arnik had been broken. Everyone cracked under the right pressure. My mind understood that.
Dyter’s arms closed around me, tugging me to him. “My girl,” he whispered in my hair. “What have you been through?”
So much. Too much. I couldn’t even feel anything anymore and didn’t know when I would. I turned to my friend, my mentor, and buried my face in his chest. A low grieving sound came from deep in my chest, but my eyes remained dry as my mind spun to take in all that had happened and all I had learned.
“You’re al’right now,” Dyter shushed, rocking me.
My eyes were drawn to where Tyr’s head still lay facing me on the ground. I wasn’t okay. I wouldn’t be. I was a Phaetyn and a Drae. I wasn’t stupid. I knew that would make me highly valuable, or highly threatening.
I returned Dyter’s hug, my heart swelling. “Dyter, I’m so glad you’re okay.”
He choked. “I’m so sorry about your mother.”
“No, please,” I stopped him in an emotionless tone. “It’s not your fault. It’s not anyone’s fault, except that man’s.” I pulled away and studied the king’s body.
He was dead. But I didn’t believe it yet.
Cal crossed to his father’s body and pried the crown from Irdelron’s head. The prince studied it, tipping the golden circlet side to side, and I wondered what he was thinking. Sighing, he held it out to Irrik and said, “This belongs to you. You slayed him, so his possessions shift to you, including control of the Druman. You are their alpha once more.”
Irrik’s nostrils flared, and he clenched his teeth. “If you held a Phaetyn blade to my throat, I would not take anything from the house of Ir.”
I glanced over at him. That’s right. Phaetyn blood didn’t work on him, or at least mine hadn’t. Yet it had killed my mother. I’d thought that I could only kill the Drae side in drumans, but if my blood killed my mum this wasn’t true. So, why was Irrik immune to Phaetyn blood? Clearly, he wanted to keep this hidden from Cal and Dyter. I’d be getting to the bottom of that as soon as they were out of earshot. I was done with secrets.
“You will take the Druman, too. I concede my control over them to you. I hate the very sight of them. Plus, not all were mine. You’ll need their protection once the emperor’s Druman report back to him. He’ll send others to attack if he knows you’re vulnerable,” Irrik said. “You must be the king the people of Verald need. You will need to become a king the entire realm needs.”
Cal’s face sobered as he accepted the weight of rule. “I intend to see this battle through to the end. The very end.”
Irrik’s eyes flooded black. “I would expect no less from the infamous Cal. And I intend to hold you to your word.” His lip curled, and he snarled, “If you ever take your position for granted, I’ll be back, and I will make you pay.”
The prince tilted his chin. “I am not my father. In fact, I’ll gladly renounce his name. The house of Ir no longer exists. I’ll be Caltevyn of House Cal, my mother’s house.”
With a gleam in his eyes, Lord Irrik leaned over the fair young man and said, “A pretty speech, but I look forward to you proving the truth of it by uniting the three kingdoms against the emperor.”
Whoa. My heart skipped a beat as I contemplated the meaning of the Drae’s plan. Now he was free from Irdelron, he was pushing for the empire to be purged of its abusive Drae ruler.
Caltevyn pursed his lips and stared at the crown as if contemplating Irrik’s challenge. After several moments, the prince squared his shoulders and looked up to the Drae. “I will need your help.”
Irrik dipped his head. “You shall have it, King Caltevyn. As long as I agree with your decisions.”
I was sure our king understood the underlying threat. But I agreed with Irrik. Someone needed to help maintain the balance of power. Mum’s stories weren’t just stories after all.
Cal frowned at the crown for a long moment before he placed it on his head. This was the man who had ordered potato stew from me at The Crane’s Nest. I’d known there was something strange about him, something different, back then. But that he was a prince, never. Now he was king. The crown suited him, but I silently added to Irrik’s threat. If Caltevyn or Irtevyn, or whatever his name was, abused his power, I would come back to end him myself. A deep sense of protectiveness bubbled up from within, and I felt compelled to remind him, “The people need you. Don’t let them down.”
King Caltevyn nodded, a grim look of determination on his face. “I will not fail them.”
Dyter chuckled behind me. Placing his hand on my shoulder, he did his best to reassure me. “I’ve known Cal for more than ten years, Ryn. I believe in him.”
Once, that might have been enough for me to believe in him, too.
Cal crossed the stone floor and knelt before me. Taking my hand in his, he bowed and brushed his lips over the back of my hand. He looked up into my eyes and said, “My lady, I hope you will come to believe in me, too, over time. These are trying times, and I must put the needs of my people before all else. I would implore you to consider their plight. Please, will you help us, too?”
My help? “With growing more food?”
I’m sure there would be more healing of the land that would need to take place, but I could teach them how to do it, and I had a few ideas so I wouldn’t have to always be around for spitting in the pail.