I flicked my gaze over the rest of our kind. All but two of the females in Draedyn’s harem were here as were five males Tyrrik had found in the emperor’s dungeon before blowing it up.
Draedyn had told me I was only meeting most of our family when I met the female Drae, and I’d never put two and two together—even after he told me the extinction of our species had never been his design. On some level, underneath all of the cruelty and depravity, he’d still possessed some loyalty to our kind. I was grateful for that, no matter what elitist belief his loyalty had stemmed from.
Three of the males found their mates in the group of female Drae and were making a shockingly rapid recovery. The other two males were coming along, just not as fast. Starvation and dehydration might not kill the Drae or Phaetyn, but it could still weaken us. I was grateful Tyrrik found them and they’d been strong enough to get out before the mountain blew.
All in all, we had the makings of a nice little family although I was finding my Drae kin were a bit more serious than I was accustomed. I was one hundred and ten percent certain all of them thought I was six short of a dozen, but I’d killed Draedyn, so they accepted my eccentricities even if many still kept their distance. We had time. Lots of it.
The area under the left side of my ribcage pained with a blossoming ache of loneliness. More and more, I missed my friends, human and Phaetyn alike.
I was the Most Powerful Drae. But after a year here in the realm of the Drae, I wasn’t sure what that meant.
Do you want to talk about it, my love? Tyrrik asked.
I tilted my head back to the sun and took a cleansing breath. I’m fine, I said, both to assure Tyrrik and because it was the truth. The battle just comes back to me at the weirdest times.
I wasn’t sure I’d ever get over the feeling of staring at my mate and believing him dead. Nor would I forget the anguished search and soul-crushing confirmation of his passing. I’d knelt at his side, despite the void I’d felt in Tyrrik and the panic in me, and scoured him for any hint of life that I could cling to and use to drag him back into being.
In another existence, whether in my head or a spiritual realm only mates could access, I’d found an onyx wisp of life, or maybe it found me. I’d latched onto that strand—not knowing if it was real—and I’d refused to let go. I’d poured everything into my mate, even more than when I’d obliterated Draedyn, for Tyrrik’s life was more meaningful than even my own.
If he hadn’t come back, I’d still be there now—wherever there was—with him. I can’t believe I found the last trace of life in your little toe.
Everyone you tell that story to is aware you’re making it up.
I bit back a smile. When the scholars write our history, they’ll say little toe. Because that’s what happened.
Tyrrik continued his laborious digging. We won’t be in any history books. At least not that part.
No, we wouldn’t. Only a handful of people knew the truth.
To the rest of the realm, Tyrrik and I had died in each other’s arms. That was the decision Tyrrik and I had made, our hearts sick of the conflict, desperate to just be with each other. In the aftermath of the war, I’d known with single-minded surety I wanted a life with my mate. No more banquets, politics, platitudes, and discussions about what everyone else needed. Our duty was done; the realm was saved. We’d sacrificed so much, and now it was time for us.
A year ago, that decision felt so easy.
It’s a bit hard to turn pages with talons anyway, I joked halfheartedly.
I’d been so focused on removing the emperor from the throne I hadn’t really thought of what happened after the war was won. I mean, I’m sure the leaders of each realm did in the back of their minds. They might have even discussed it amongst themselves. But I’d never thought beyond Draedyn’s death. When I came through the darkness of death with my barely-alive mate on the ground and the stench of fresh blood saturating the air, my path forward had been clear.
What was most important? Draedyn hadn’t known. He’d never gotten past the ‘necessary’ part. He'd never gotten to see that living a necessary life, void of life’s pleasures, was not a life at all. Draedyn had never learned that merely surviving was just death dressed up.
I planned to live. I planned to do more than what was necessary.
And yet here I was in the southern desert.
Are you getting anywhere? I asked Tyrrik, watching the sweat bead on his back. Really, I almost couldn’t appreciate his body any more than I did. Because mine. But also . . . just hot. A lot of hot.
Soon, my mate will have an underground cavern fit for all her treasures. Even big sapphires or rubies.
I grumbled, but his thoughtfulness made my heart soar. Even though I didn’t enjoy how long it was taking to expand his current treasure trove in the Draeconia Desert. I was waiting until Tyrrik was finished before undertaking a stealth mission to dig up my pillbox and gems from the Gemond palace.
Just inside the passageway here, there is a staircase down, he continued. Shelves will line all the way down for display pieces. I can’t wait for you to see what I’ve done.
Neither could I. Tyrrik had kept vigilant about not showing me anything until the cavern was complete. Likely another Drae custom or maybe instinct meant to drive the female crazy. Like his other question game or even watching him sweat in the desert. Once he was done with our lair, I could move everything here to where I’d eventually have our children in a bajillion years or so. Then I would have all my treasures in one spot.
You look very animalistic digging like that, I told him. Like a wee doggie who can’t reach his bone.
Sand erupted as Tyrrik blurred up the dune to stand before me. I pursed my lips, trying to hold back the smile as I waited.
He leaned over me, his onyx gaze studying my face. I felt his inhale as he took in my scent just as I was soaking in his pine and smoke smell.
“You want to rethink that statement?” he asked, his voice low and menacing.
My heart skipped a beat at the sound, but I stood on my toes and reached up, using a finger on each hand to press down the tops of his ears so they stuck out. “Nope,” I replied, raising my eyebrows as I shook my head. “Just like a wee doggie.” I inched closer to him and said, “Arf.”
Tyrrik chuckled, his joy threading through our bond. Grinning, he leaned in to kiss me. Just like the first time, fire licked my skin with his touch, and with the bonds between us, our blue-and-onyx energy danced around us. His mouth moved over mine, and my tongue met his stroke for stroke. I gripped his arms to drag him closer, and he wrapped me in his embrace.
“Mine,” he growled, breathing hard as he rested his forehead to mine.
I inched back and brushed my thumb over his bottom lip. “Mine.”
He squeezed my waist and then tugged my hand. Sit with me.
We sat in the sand and watched the Drae below in content silence, our observations of their happy faces and strong bodies bouncing between us so quickly it was hard to tell which thought originated with who or who was finishing it.
Do you think they’ll be okay now? I asked.
“My love, they’ll be fine. The Druman are gone, Draedyn is gone, Azule isn’t a threat anymore.”
Azule. The country had received the dawn rooster wake up of their life. Queen Lahr’s position had been filled by one of our own. After the war, the Azulis were made to live a time in Gemond and Verald so that they could see how their fellow human beings had suffered. They heard the young men speak of the horrors experienced at the overseas war. They listened to tales of starvation, of oppression, of cruelty. And then the Azulis were given the option to return to their home if they desired.
Under Dyter’s rule, their frivolity reportedly dwindled to tolerable levels without even the hints of an uprising, nor did there seem to be a risk of it. Azule could hardly fight back against an alliance uniting the rest of the realm. And their alliance was fierce.
Are you ready to talk to me now? Tyrrik asked.
What do you mean?