I snorted. You know, it has a name. A real name.
Yes, love. Go grow the people some food. You need to leave everyone who will remain enough to survive until we return.
Even after pouring my green Phaetyn powers into the veggie patches of the royal gardens for several hours, I wasn’t satisfied with the result. The elderly and children were going to have a hard time if the war was ongoing. Who knew how long we’d be away.
I sighed heavily. I needed to go outside and reverse as much of the damage there as possible. That was the root of my discontent.
I stopped at the gardens, gathering two bags of huge pumpkin seeds as well as other fruits, vegetables, and even a few dozen nuts. It wasn’t enough to fill the land, but it would get them started.
My heart fell as I strode through the kingdom doors and saw the damage. I’d expected the gray haze to still be masking the ruin, but the rain had poured through the smoke from the sky while I was inside, catching the haze in its droplets and forcing it to the ground.
Everything was black and charred. No life remained here.
This is something I can fix.
I shifted and carefully took both bags in my front talons. Launching this way was harder than usual, but minutes later, I soared over the blackened earth, scattering the seeds into the ash.
I purposely left my Phaetyn veil off, knowing Draedyn would feel I was back. I wanted him to know there were Drae here who would fight against him for the people of Gemond. When I returned to the entrance, I sat outside the doors and did as I had in Verald before leaving, pumping my Phaetyn energy into the ground, willing the land to heal and the seeds to grow.
I thought of big pumpkins, large enough for Tyrrik to stand in, and potatoes the size of goats. I willed the fruit trees to blossom, hoping we weren’t too late in the year for the bees to pollinate them, but what did I know? I spent a lot of time on the nut trees. And then the grapes, pinot gris, like the ones Arnik spent hours working with—because we’d need wine to celebrate when we won the war.
I felt the sun warm my skin. The rain had stopped, but I didn’t bother moving. The rays filtered through the canopy above, and I breathed in the verdant smell of a late summer afternoon after heavy rain.
“Are you done?” Tyrrik asked.
I’d felt his presence draw closer, and I smiled, my eyes still closed. I patted the ground next to me as I sat up, and unable to resist looking at my mate, I opened my eyes.
“Holy Pancakes!” I gasped.
Tyrrik stood before me, his hand extended, admiration in his dark eyes. Behind him was an oasis of flourishing growth, stretching out into the valley almost as far as I could see. I took his hand, but my gaze was riveted on the flora. “I think that’s your pumpkin,” I whispered in awe as I pointed at a squash the size of my old house in Verald. “Right there.”
Tyrrik glanced over his shoulder. “I said I like your potatoes better.”
I nodded, my gaze sweeping over the growth, and pointed at the leaves of a potato plant. “You can dig a couple up over here then.”
I grinned with deep satisfaction. I was no longer the soap queen. I was Ryn, Potato Queen, destined to feed thousands. I was moving up in the world.
I lay back down as Tyrrik dug up two potatoes. He dusted off his hands after fifteen minutes. Yep, they were totally bigger than goats.
The sun disappeared over the mountaintops, and I sighed, feeling guilty for having fun and for feeling joy while Kamini and Kamoi were in danger because of me and while a battle loomed on the horizon.
“There’s always a reason to enjoy what life gives you,” Tyrrik said.
He lowered the two boulder-sized potatoes speared on his talons and then retracted his natural weapons before pulling me into his arms.
“Let’s have dinner,” he said, nuzzling my neck. “With candles.”
“Will you light the candles with your Drae fire?” I asked.
His tongue traced my feathering pulse, the warmth and moisture shooting trembling pleasure low in my stomach. He kissed my ear, tracing the outer part first before sucking my lobe into his mouth, his teeth grazing the soft skin.
“And then,” he whispered, guiding me backward until I was sandwiched between him and the mountain, “I want to be the reason for your joy.”
He pressed his body into mine, making me gasp as his hips molded against mine. A heavy ache for him had me instinctively pushing back.
“I want to be all you think about,” he said, trailing kisses down my neck. He pulled the neck of my aketon open and brushed his stubble along my collarbone, trailing his nose up my neck on the other side, inhaling deeply.
I moaned and leaned closer, my hands gripping his waist as I circled my hips against him.
“I want to be one with you, both body and mind. I want you to know how much I love you.”
My mind, hazy once again, thought only of him as the rest of the world fell away.
“Tyrrik,” I begged. Mate.
A loud grating sound made me freeze, and a moment later I heard a man calling, “Lord Tyrrik? Lady Ryn?”
14
Tyrrik growled in response to the interruption, but this time I’d had enough. I grabbed Tyrrik’s hand and yanked him toward the door. As we brushed by the guard, I snapped, “There’s plenty of food out there. Lord Tyrrik even dug up some potatoes for supper.”
I stopped and took two steps back to the wide-eyed man. “Tell whoever you have to that Lord Tyrrik and I are done dealing with everyone and anything else for the night. Al’right? As in: Do. Not. Disturb”—I poked my finger into the man’s chest—“the Drae. Unless someone is dying.” I pulled up short, grabbed a fistful of his aketon, and narrowed my partially shifted eyes at him. “Is someone dying or dead?”
The guard shook his head.
“Excellent.” I patted his chest lightly where I’d poked a moment before. “Good fellow, we’re on the up and up. Right.” I raised my hand to my eye level and pointed at him. “Do not disturb. Understood?”
He nodded.
What a brilliant communicator. Someone should give him a medal. “As you were, soldier.”
I rotated to my mate with a grin, reaching for his hand. “We have some unfinished business.”
Tyrrik raised his eyebrows but said nothing, accepting my hand. When I stepped forward, he stayed rooted to the floor, making me stumble back.
“Where are we going?” he asked.
I shrugged. I didn’t care where we went. There was a giant pumpkin right behind us that was good to go—
The guard cleared his throat.
“Excuse me,” he said, taking a tentative step forward. He held out a golden key with a smooth oval of polished lapis lazuli. “King Zakai sent me to show you to your chamber. Down this hall, take the first right, and it’s the first door on the left.”
I flashed the guard a smile as I plucked the key from his fingers, my expression turning cheeky when I met Tyrrik’s gaze. “I’ve always liked King Zakai.”
“So you’ve said,” he replied. He lifted his gaze to the man and said, “Thank you. Please convey our gratitude to your sovereign.”
Oops. “Yes, thanks.” Guilt made me turn back and add, “Sorry about . . . earlier. You took me by surprise, and I might’ve overreacted a little. Or a lot. Oh, and there are potatoes out there; you might want to pick them up or have someone help you. They’d be good for dinner.”
Tyrrik slid his arm around my waist, and I stopped talking. The guard picked up the Drae’s cue and hurried away.
I groaned when Tyrrik opened the door to our room. There was a sitting area with a full table of food, including a tureen of pumpkin soup, and beyond that sat a bed the size of Tyrrik’s one back in Verald. A gilded entranceway graced the opposite wall of the chamber, leading to what I assumed was a bathroom.
I couldn’t help stroking the walls, the lapis walls. Lovely. That Zakai was fabulous.