Black Crown (Darkest Drae, #3)



“Ryn,” Tyrrik said hoarsely, crouching beside me to wrap me in his strong embrace.

Phaetyn still cried. The acrid scent of burning flesh filled my nostrils, but the chaos blurred around me as I sobbed into his chest, my shoulders shaking. “He made me give Kamini over. I couldn’t control myself, Tyrrik,” I wailed. The pitch of my voice grew, my words slipping together. “I-I couldn’t stop.”

“Ryn,” he said firmly. He pushed me back, and caught my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze.

My eyes widened, and I hovered on the edge of hysteria.

“I know what happened,” he said. “I felt it. It’s not your fault.”

I tore my gaze from his, staring back at the ground. Pieces of broken dishes mixed with the food they’d once held, bits of napkin, a broken wine glass, dark fluid I wanted to think was lemonade littered the courtyard . . . It’s my fault.

No, my love, Tyrrik said, his voice unrelenting in my mind. It wasn’t your fault. It was mine.

He picked me up, my body shaking, and as he sped us into the Rose Castle in a blur, the putrid scent of smoke lessened. Setting me in a pile on the ground, he said aloud, “I’m going to get the Phaetyn together and find Lani.”

Relief, shame, and fear found me with his words. The Phaetyn needed a leader right now, someone to show them what to do in the wake of Draedyn’s attack. As the bridge between the races, that should be me—ideally, by Lani’s side. For all I knew, she was out there trying to do the job while I cowered in here. And yet, even knowing Tyrrik was needed elsewhere, I didn’t want him to leave. I choked on the words, forcing them out. “Hurry back.”

At least I had that much self-control.

“I’ll be back soon.” Tyrrik stroked my hair softly before disappearing outside once more.

I stared at the hemp weave of the golden rug, curling into a ball. My braid fell forward over my shoulder, hitting me with the saturated stench of the bitter smoke from outside. I shoved my silver braid back with a trembling hand and sat up, hugging my knees to my chest.

What just happened? What had I done?

Draedyn attacked. Dropped his Druman and set the forest aflame and killed countless Phaetyn. How many I couldn’t possibly know. How much had been lost in the anarchy? I didn’t even want to guess.

A sob caught in my chest as I recalled the look on Lani’s face when I’d kicked back the table and taken Kamini in my grasp. The burning shame collected behind my eyes, and a tear spilled over the edge and slid down my cheek. Lani had just found her family, and now both Kamoi and Kamini were in Draedyn’s possession. My fault.

They could already be dead.

I handed her over.

I stared at the weave, unblinking, and picked at the fringe. I didn’t even bother to look up when Tyrrik re-entered the room.

“We’ve gathered everyone in the ballroom. The injured are already being healed,” Tyrrik said.

The injured. But what about the dead?

Someone else strode in after him but stopped at the threshold to the room.

A heavy weight sank in my stomach as I slowly lifted my gaze to Lani’s. Queen Luna’s crown dangling in her hand.

Fat tears hovered on the edge of her bottom eyelids. Her violet eyes were rimmed red from the smoke and crying. The rise and fall of her chest became increasingly rapid as she held my gaze.

I didn’t close my eyes to her pain but etched my mind with her shock and terror so that I would always remember. More tears fell from my eyes, and I croaked, “I’m sorry, Lani. I’m so—” My voice broke, and my body shook as guilt wracked my very soul. My fault.

And worse yet, I could feel Tyrrik’s heart breaking through our bond alongside mine.

“I couldn’t get the barrier up,” Lani said, staring at the crown in her hands. Her tears dripped to the floor, and she released a strangled sob.

Wait. She thought this was her fault? I struggled to my feet, and Tyrrik hurried over to help me. He slid his arm around my waist and remained at my side.

“Lani,” I said, shaking my head. “This isn’t your fault. You saw what I—” I swallowed hard. “You saw what I did.”

“But you know, Draedyn is Ryn’s father,” Tyrrik said darkly. “He was controlling her actions.”

Lani swallowed. The Phaetyn queen scrubbed her tears away and crossed to a cushioned futon, perching on the gilded edge. “I knew Ryn would never hand Kamini over of her own volition. But”—her gaze went from Tyrrik to me—“How was he able to do that?”

I tilted my head back to look up at my mate. I didn’t want to voice my guess out loud.

He avoided my gaze, and I frowned at the uncharacteristic gesture, recalling his comment about the attack being his fault.

“Draedyn is the alpha of our kind,” he answered. “This makes Drae susceptible to his will. But Ryn also shares a familial bond with him. Influencing her”—a low growl slipped through Tyrrik’s lengthening teeth as he fought to control his Drae—“controlling her will be easier because of this bond.”

“That would’ve been nice to know beforehand,” snapped Lani.

I blinked at her uncharacteristic outburst, but my mind replayed Tyrrik’s words.

The Phaetyn sighed, rubbing her temples. “I’m sorry. I know that’s not helping.”

“No, you’re right,” I said, chest tightening again. “I-I knew he’d be able to impose his will. Tyrrik had told me. I just didn’t realize his control could overpower my own. I should have taken it more seriously.” But what could I have done against him, really? How could I possibly fight against such power?

“We’ll work on your defenses,” Tyrrik said, squeezing my waist.

I stared around the glistening quartz room. The chamber appeared to have everything, but really it was empty aside from the few bits of furniture which made it functional. The room and I had a lot in common.

“I felt something similar in Gemond,” I said, straightening. “When Draedyn was flying overhead. I had this weird moment where I wanted him to find us.”

“Really?” Lani dropped her hands. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t think anything of it,” I said numbly. “I didn’t realize the thoughts weren’t mine; in the same way I don’t notice I’m breathing all day. It just happened, and then it was gone right when you put up your gold veil. It must have kept him out.”

“You were in your Phaetyn form too,” she replied. “Maybe that helped.”

“And I was closer to Tyrrik,” I added. The events of the night played over in my mind again. “I regained slightly more control as Tyrrik drew near. The closer he got to the forest tonight . . .” The truth hit me, and I looked at my mate and said, “My resistance to Draedyn is stronger when you’re close.”

A heavy silence followed my words, and Tyrrik cleared his throat, breaking the stupor. He turned his attention to the Phaetyn, an impassive mask falling over his features, leaving me chilled.

“Queen Lani,” he said. “Your people need direction. You need to pull yourself together.”

My people, she mouthed, and then she exploded. “On my first night of rule, I get so drunk I can’t complete the barrier, and Draedyn slaughters fifty of my people, taking the prince and princess and at least two more.” Her eyes shifted to me. “I come to ‘my people’ with a Phaetyn-Drae who gives the princess over to our enemy.”

I froze, anguish slamming into me.

Lani rushed to add. “That’s merely what the Phaetyn are thinking, Ryn. You must see how they’ll mistrust you even when I explain what happened. You both must see how wary this will make them.”

Knowing her words were true did nothing to lessen the hurt as she spoke them.

A menacing rumble filled Tyrrik’s chest, and I could feel his ire rising on my behalf. “Watch what you say, Phaetyn.”

“Do not forget yourself,” Lani whipped back with a glare, shooting to her feet.

Kelly St. Clare & Raye Wagner's books