“You understand, of course, I had to remain in your mind. You’re far too volatile, and until your will has melded with mine, I will be present, at least in some capacity, daughter.”
I wrenched my eyes open and stared at the ceiling overhead. Matte-black graphite as though the room had been carved into the side of a cliff greeted me, the dull darkness disturbing. Dread rioted in my stomach as I propped my elbows up to sit in the bed, but my head felt stuffed with cotton. The coarse sheet fell down the front of my nightgown, and despite the fact Emperor Draedyn was definitely in the room, my gaze dropped to make sure I was decent.
My shoulders sagged at the plain black nightgown I’d been put in, which covered me from neck to wrist and—I shifted my feet to check—to my ankles. Emboldened by this and very little else, I lifted my gaze to peer across the room.
Draedyn sat semi-reclined, at ease on a black velvet couch. He had one arm propped on the cushioned side. Behind him, a red woven blanket draped across the back of the couch, the contrast like blood on a battlefield.
“Where is my mate?” I croaked, surprised to still have control of my voice. I forced myself to look at my father and tried to ignore the blood-red throw.
“What of me?” Draedyn asked. “You do not want to greet your father?”
He sent an emerald-green pulse out with his second question, and the wave of power swept through the large chamber with such force all reason fled from my mind for the space of two gasping breaths. I straightened—when had I bowed?—and said, “Can’t say I do, really.”
Draedyn grinned, his white teeth gleaming. His garb was as unassuming as the sack-like garments I’d seen him wear in Azule, maybe even the same. His eyes were solid inky black, and he met my gaze hungrily. He sat, unmoving, as I darted repeated glances his way, trying to measure my enemy. His power—I inhaled sharply again—I couldn’t even sense the depth of it. To be so close to the source of this massive force was like falling through a dark cavern and not knowing when I’d eventually hit bottom.
“Can you hear my thoughts right now?” I asked, tersely. Where was Tyrrik? Had he reached the boats filled with men meant for the overseas war? I had no memory of how I came to be here. The last I could recall was Draedyn crashing into my side and then here.
Draedyn’s finger twitched on the couch, and a slow smile touched the corners of his lips. “Your mate went after the boats.”
A horrible suspicion entered my mind.
“Yes, he was meant to go after them,” Draedyn answered before I had a chance to finish forming the words into a question.
A trap. I closed my eyes to block out the angular lines of his cruel face. Neither Tyrrik nor I had seen Draedyn coming. But I didn’t care about that. I couldn’t even care for myself or the situation I was in, not yet.
“He is alive, daughter. Your mate still lives.”
I shuddered at the immeasurable control under the alpha Drae’s leaden voice.
“Is he well?” I asked, stressing the last word. There was a big difference between being alive and being well.
I watched my father’s expression carefully. His gaze and the hold of his mouth remained unchanged as we stared at each other.
“He is far from here,” Draedyn said. “I’ve done nothing to harm him. There is no reason to; the extinction of our species has never been my design.”
“Well, you’re doing a great job of that,” I said. Despite my sarcastic reply, my bottom lip trembled, and my hands shook. Thank the moons and stars and whoever else was looking over me. My mate was alive and free.
The emperor tilted his head, and his eyes narrowed.
“What?” I asked brusquely.
“Haven’t you heard that to kill your mate would be to risk killing you?” he asked. “Why do you think I went to so much trouble to get you away from him?”
All at once I understood. He’d pulled our strings like a puppeteer. And we were as foolish and naive as children. How had we not put it together? That he was merely attempting to lure me away. As soon as we knew he was there, we should’ve run “Did you know I was watching when you cut Mily open?”
He shook his head. “I didn’t know when you’d be watching, just that eventually you’d find me when the old human male went missing.”
How did he know how important Dyter was to me? My stomach clenched as realization set in. He’d accessed my mind more than once. He likely knew how much everyone meant to me. Could that mean Draedyn had him? He’d said ‘went missing,’ so I was inclined to assume not—or maybe that was desperation talking.
“Then why didn’t you strike when you attacked my mind? Why not just take me then?” I asked.
“Because your mate could’ve broken it,” he said plainly. “Just as he did.”
As plain as his appearance. As plain as his power. As plain as his cruelty. None of them had trimmings. None were dressed up. Was that the point beside his lowly appearance?
He smiled suddenly. “Very good. There’s no need for pretence.”
I wouldn’t roll my eyes. Not when I had to live for Tyrrik; my chest ached with the thought of him. “What happened after you took me?”
Draedyn stood, slowly, at human pace. “We flew here.”
I screwed up my face, not bothering to move. Tyrrik could move faster than light, and Draedyn had to be faster. The only reason for his deliberately slow pace was because he didn’t want me to know exactly how fast he could move. “Yeah, sure. That’s why you cut the memories out.”
He shrugged and stepped toward the bed. My chest tightened, and my heartrate picked up, an instinctive reaction to the destructive power infusing the chamber. “I wondered if we would have a chance for a fresh start, but you’ve recalled more than I anticipated. Somehow.”
Daddykins didn’t seem too happy about some of my memories filling in from the blackout of his control, so I latched onto his tidbit of displeasure like a lifeline.
“However”—he studied me like a prize piece of cattle—“to hear your thoughts is rather . . . fascinating. I’ve not shared a familial bond with another in a long time, and I find myself curious to hear your thoughts. Curious enough to permit you most of your mind and body . . . for the time being.”
Hope leaped in my chest, and my eyes widened. I clutched my sheet and leaned forward with anticipation.
His face hardened. “Your mate is far away, Draeryn. My hold on you is absolute, regardless of these little freedoms I allow you. You’re inside my empire, and not even a Drae could fight his way in.”
Part of me sincerely hoped Tyrrik didn’t attempt it, and another part of me expected him to arrive any second. I expected Draedyn to know more than I how hard a male Drae would fight to get to his mate. But maybe not. Maybe Draedyn had never had a mate. I really didn’t know. There was so much I didn’t know, and in this moment, if the news was bad, I didn’t even want to know. I hoped Dyter, if he was even alive and with the army, would be able to talk reason into Tyrrik. With savage force, I turned my thoughts away from Dyter and back to Daddy-Draedyn.
“I’m in your lair?” I asked, glancing away from the emperor’s intense perusal of me to take a better look at the room. My bed was the centrepiece of the space, the velvet couch with its blood-red throw and a leather-covered trunk at the end of the bed were the only adornments to the chamber. Like the emperor himself, his lair was plain, another testament to his faux-humility. Like anything material would distract from his power? How hard would it be to hang up a family portrait—ugh, no. Maybe a picture of his mother or a landscape or sunset? Black, black, black.
“I’m seeing a decorative theme here,” I muttered. A door to my right offered a break in the dark graphite rock. Did that lead out to the rest of his lair?