“Lord Tyrrik,” Dyter called, breaking the stupor around us. “You’ll need to go with the guards to exit from the other side of the mountain.”
Tyrrik pulled back, and I was nearly overwhelmed with the urge to announce I wasn’t leaving. He broke our contact with a pained grunt, and the compulsion lessened.
Give me five minutes to draw them away, then you can leave, he thought through our bond. At my stupefied nod, he left the room so quickly I barely saw him move.
“So much sexual tension,” Lani murmured.
I wrinkled my nose and noticed Dyter with his eyes closed. Poor guy never seemed to be in the right place at the right time.
“Okay,” I said, only a slight tremor remaining in my voice as my determination and expression hardened once more. “Let’s go save Phaetynville.”
I beat my wings down with powerful strokes, catapulting us high into the azure sky over the central ranges of the Gemondian Kingdom. Even after at least eight hours, the lift under my wings and the stretching of my back felt wondrous.
Lani gasped and clutched one of the spines on my back as she shouted over the wind, “Was that necessary?”
Necessary? No. But gone was the time when I’d only do what was necessary. Life was more than survival, something I’d learned somewhere between dungeons and torture rooms and multiple kingdoms. I extended my lapis wings, stretching them as far as they’d go, and reveled in the joy of flying, one of the things that reminded me why I needed to fight.
“When are we going to stop?” Lani shouted. “The sun is going down.”
I wasn’t sure why she kept asking questions; I couldn’t answer her in this form. In truth, though I could have flown for hours more, the moss-green power fueling the veil over us had grown steadily weaker over the day. While Lani could hide us if we continued, we’d agreed she’d save her energy to cloak the Forest. After today, I wasn’t sure how she’d be able to cloak Phaetynville, but I knew she’d need all the strength she had to accomplish that.
I arched my long Drae neck to give Lani an awkward nod and then began my descent. I’d long since passed the summit where Druman had overrun Dyter, Tyrrik, and me a few weeks ago. Camping there overnight seemed to be tempting fate, but I spotted a similar peak which would do just fine.
I kept the angle of my descent shallow, circling in looping sweeps until I landed gently on the flattest part of the mountain peak. I inhaled long and hard in each direction, using my keen Drae senses to study the sky and the surrounding terrain. After that, I closed my eyes and strained my ears to listen for any pinprick of human or Druman noise within miles. Lani was in my care, Ryn the Protector wasn’t taking any risks.
Satisfied we were alone but for the harmless critters scuttling about, I lowered onto my haunches and turned my mind to shifting. Achieving my Phaetyn form was like sitting down after standing for hours. I groaned in relief as the air shimmered around my Drae form, and I welcomed the now familiar shift of bones as I shrunk to Phaetyn size, the moss-green veil beginning to dissipate.
“You can get off now,” I muttered from where I knelt with my face bent to the ground.
Lani stayed put on my back. “I don’t know. I’m pretty comfortable.”
“Off.” An unsettling feeling tugged beneath my ribs, and I grimaced. Tyrrik hadn’t been kidding when he said I’d miss him. The separation was not pleasant. The nagging sensation set me further on edge, and I clamped my arms to my sides to keep from extraditing the little queen.
The Phaetyn snorted and swung a leg over. “You’re a grump.”
“Finally,” I groaned.
I let go of the last strand of moss but wasn’t prepared for the backlash from holding the veil for so long. Pain whipped across my forehead, and I rolled onto my side, gasping.
“Make sure to let go of the veil slowly,” Lani said.
I dug the heels of my palms into my eyes. “Thanks. That’s super helpful.”
I gasped and clutched at my chest as the tugging feeling sharpened into an acute ache for Tyrrik. It’d been how many hours since I’d left Gemond?
Khosana?
The presence of Tyrrik in my mind was the equivalent of slipping into a warm bath even if all I could feel was his panic. I wanted to hightail it back to Gemond right now, or maybe after a little kip. I blinked and slowed my breathing, focusing on releasing the tightness in my chest. I’m okay, I replied in a strangled voice. Just tired.
Whoa, the veil was nothing compared to this raw hollowness. I really should listen to Tyrrik a bit more.
I see . . . Want to talk? he asked.
My lips twitched. Sure, but let me eat first.
Go eat. When you’re ready, the password is: Lord Tyrrik is the Most Brilliant Drae.
What? I’m not saying—Before I could finish, Tyrrik closed the mental door on me. I blinked up at Lani and said, “He’s gone.”
She paused part way through unpacking our dinner. “Right.”
“Head talk,” I explained, pointing at my temple.
“So soon? You mustn’t have given him a proper send off,” she replied, waggling her silver brows.
5
I flushed as Lani’s meaning sank in. I wasn’t sure how Phaetyn did their send offs, but that wasn’t how I said my goodbyes.
“You’d both probably feel better if you had,” Lani said matter-of-factly as if she could read my mind. Then her brow furrowed, and she tilted her head, examining me. “You’ve had sex with him, right?”
Holy pancakes. Was I really having this conversation with a fake adult? I shook my head, staring at my pack as though it could save me from the entire situation. I could just crawl inside it and live there. “I’m not sleeping with anyone. I’m not ready to. How do you even know about . . .” I waved my hand and mumbled, “stuff?”
“I’m over fifty years old.”
“Look like eight.”
“Fifteen,” she insisted, nostrils flaring. “And we’re not talking about my sex life.”
Young Phaetyn got prickly about their slow aging. Kamini, Lani’s younger sister, was like that too. “We’re not talking about mine either.”
I wrenched open the drawstring of my deer hide pack and rummaged for some water. I uncorked the skin and guzzled the contents.
“Well, maybe we should. Sex isn’t something to be embarrassed about.”
I choked and spat water all over my pack. Not embarrassing? I could think of a bajillion different reasons I didn’t want to talk about maypoles and the potential dancing of them, number one being that I was tired and hungry, and rectifying those two things required my full and immediate attention.
“You’ve accepted him as your mate.” Lani took the skin and looked at me pointedly. “Mating is part of nature. Just the same as a plant growing.”
I rolled my eyes as she drank. “Yeah, thanks for that.”
“You do understand how it works, right? Do you need someone to explain where the parts go?”
“No,” I said in a strangled voice. “Please, no. I know where the parts go. My mother explained it all to me. Can we not talk about this?”
Lani said nothing, and as the minutes passed, I slowly relaxed.
Then she went and cleared her throat. “No, sorry, Ryn. I don’t feel right leaving the matter alone. Dyter was hinting at it the other day, but he doesn’t seem comfortable tackling it head on. Who would you prefer to talk to? Dyter or me?”
When she put it like that . . . At least Lani would be far away in a forest. “Kill me now. Okay, get on with it then,” I huffed. “I’ve got things to do.”
Lani peered around the empty mountain top but didn’t call me out on my comment. “Have you had a boyfriend?”
I thought of Tyr, but he—
“Before you found your mate, I mean. Let’s not include him quite yet.”
The only other friend I’d had was Arnik, and he was more friend, not boyfriend. “Kind of?” That was such a lie, but I didn’t want to seem uncool in front of the maybe-Phaetyn queen.
“He was at least a friend, right?”
I nodded.
“Great. Now, think about how you kept the friendship healthy and strong.”
I shook my head. “I didn’t really do anything. We hung out. Played pranks together.”