Black Crown (Darkest Drae, #3)

Message received, he thought back in a strangled voice.

I jumped as Tyrrik’s talons drove through the pumpkin as though the shell were a pancake. The razor-sharp blades sung as they sliced all the way to the inside. Crossing my arms, I watched with a critical eye as the Drae created a curved door. When he’d finished, he plunged the talons from both claws into the middle and pulled the new exit free, throwing it aside in the gem-encrusted hall.

Holding my head high, I stepped out of the pumpkin and met Lord Tyrrik’s eyes with a dignified expression. Mum used to say, “People don’t remember the mistake itself; they remember the grace with which a person handled it.”

He reached for me, and I held my breath. But instead of pulling me in for a steamy kiss, he dragged a long, sloppy strand of pumpkin fiber from my silver hair.

I scowled at him as he pressed his lips firmly together. His eyes watered, and he tossed the stringy mess away.

“Not laughing doesn’t really work when you’re in hysterics in your head,” I scolded. Jabbing a finger at my head, I continued, “I can hear you.”

I stomped toward the garden exit, cheeks flaming.

He latched a hand around my wrist. “Forgive me, Khosana. You make me forget my worries is all.” … inside a pumpkin, he mentally continued, laughing through our bond. “You always surprise me.”

I appreciated his verbal effort, and truthfully, Tyrrik had so many worries and scars I was happy to help him forget his heartache for a moment. Even if it involved moderate levels of humiliation for me.

“It is the biggest pumpkin I’ve ever seen,” he added, glancing back, still not releasing his hold on my wrist.

I grinned at the pumpkin which completely filled the royal garden in the previously barren area. It was a big pumpkin. “Do you think it’s the biggest one ever?”

He nodded seriously. “Most definitely. And such a deep orange.”

I slid him a suspicious look, but his expression didn’t falter, and the bond didn’t tell me otherwise. “Thank you.” I smiled widely. “It is a nice color.”

Tyrrik shifted his grip and intertwined our fingers, sending a pulse of his admiration through our bond.

My heart skipped a beat. Holy pancakes.

We walked out of the gardens in the direction of the meeting room, and I tried to settle my erratic pulse from Tyrrik’s touch. A touch was simple to most people, but after everything in Irdelron’s dungeons, people in my personal space didn’t feel simple to me even if the person was Tyrrik.

He stroked the base of my palm with his thumb. “Dyter is not happy with you.”

“Have they made any decisions yet?” I asked, hopefully. I sucked in another shallow breath and focused my attention on the rubies and sapphires. His touch even distracted me from shiny objects. That was a feat in itself.

“No, they await your presence.”

“Drak. I’d hoped to show up when it was done.” There were big decisions to make with even bigger consequences. I was eighteen, not an expert in any of the areas being discussed, so why did my voice matter so much?

Tyrrik smiled and pushed back a few fallen strands of his black hair. I stared for a moment at his sculpted and perfect face before forcing my eyes away.

He spoke again. “You are an important player in the war against the emperor, Ryn. More than that, you connect many of the people in that room together.”

“You and Dyter,” I mumbled. I’d rather they just gave me a summary to sign off on afterward.

“And Lani,” he said.

Right. The potential, and rightful, Phaetyn queen. We’d saved her from a large army of Druman a week prior. I did feel a kinship with her, not only because I was part Phaetyn, but her mother, Queen Luna, had sacrificed herself to transfer her ancestral powers to me while I was still in the womb, ensuring I would live. My Phaetyn mojo knew Lani, and I felt super protective of her. I wasn’t her mother; in fact, Lani was nearly fifty, though because Phaetyn’s bodies matured slowly, she had the appearance of a child, and I felt a bit motherly toward her. Tyrrik was right: I did connect many of the people in that room.

I’d even saved the Gemondian king from starvation. Well him, his family, and his kingdom. He did seem pretty pleased about that. Understandably. Not everyone could do Phaetyn mojo and make things grow.

Tyrrik grinned at me.

“What’s funny?” I asked.

He shook his head. “Nothing in particular.”

Weird. “Okay.”

The gold-wearing guards ahead bowed as we approached. As one, they opened the gilded doors for our entrance.

“So nice of you to join us,” Dyter called, his voice filled with sarcastic bite.





2





The ceilings of the council chamber were low, like most in Gemond, and encrusted halfway up with priceless gems. The gems sparkled, spreading the minimal light so the room appeared bright despite being located several levels below the surface of the outside realm.

“No problem,” I replied to Dyter as I walked into the room. I wasn’t going to feel guilty for taking a minute for myself. Waving to the others as we approached the rectangular stone table, I couldn’t help smiling at Lani who nodded regally in return. I swear the queen stuff was in her veins. I hoped the other Phaetyn would accept her because she was every single thing they needed.

I sat and peeked up at the glowering Dyter.

“Keep your hair on,” I told the bald man. As the redness creeped over his scalp, I added, “Respectfully.”

He snorted, and his shoulders dropped. The redness disappeared, and I knew I was off the hook. The old coot believed in this whole rebellion pretty strongly and got his apron tied in knots about the entire situation. I was on board with overthrowing the emperor and definitely wanted us to win. I just also appreciated down time.

“Ryn the Most Powerful Drae,” King Zakai said from the top of the table, dipping his head. His son, Zarad, sat on the king’s right.

“Hey Zakai,” I replied.

“Ryn,” Dyter said with a shake of his head. He gave me a meaningful look, mouth pulled down.

Really? He was telling me off about that too? I hadn’t called Zakai king in ages—like never—and was pretty sure Dyter and I had already come to an understanding about kings and titles and such.

I turned to share my exasperation with Tyrrik and jumped slightly as he swept his hand over my shoulder in a movement that would be only a blur to the others. I squinted at the bit of pumpkin string now in his hand then turned my glare on Tyrrik. The Drae’s expression was smooth and impassive, a look I knew well. To everyone else, he looked like an impenetrable, terrifying monster right now. They couldn’t hear him slapping his stupid thigh in his stupid head.

“Al’right. What’s happening? What do we need to discuss?” I asked, ignoring their baffled looks.

Lani spoke, “I must go back to Phaetynville.”

I hadn’t the heart to tell her Phaetynville wasn’t actually what the Phaetyn called their home in the Zivost forest. I’d need to clear that up before she left.

“Yes, I agree,” I said. If that was the only decision to make, maybe this wouldn’t be as difficult as I—

“We left the Phaetyn in the midst of turmoil,” Dyter said, leaning forward over the table, meeting each of our gazes in turn. “Kamoi and Kamini planned to restore peace to the forest, but we have no confirmation that has occurred.”

“It would be foolish to send Lani into questionable conditions and hope for the best,” King Zakai added.

Dyter nodded.

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