I shivered and felt his approval of my reaction vibrate through me. But there was potato glory to defend. Even if that meant moving closer to the still staring Phaetyn. Seriously, had they never seen someone come back from death before? They were supposed to be healers. I sucked in a shaky breath as Tyrrik ran his hands up and down my sides, and his low rumble of desire clouded my thoughts.
“Potatoes first,” I managed to gasp. “And then—” I cut off, glancing at the present company. We’ll have sex, I finished silently.
“I’m going to pretend I don’t know exactly what you meant to say.” Dyter shuddered. “Drak, I wish they’d taken my ears, instead.”
Oops. Poor Dyter really did have rotten luck when it came to me and Tyrrik’s maypole dancing and card playing.
My motivation to claim my title and move on to other things had me sprinting over to the plot of freshly overturned soil.
The other Phaetyn were already in the starting position, their heads turned to me, eyes the size of saucers. Ignoring them, I dug my hands down into the rich, brown soil and drew my moss-green power forward. Concentrating, I extracted the blue from this, leaving only pure, golden power behind.
Oh yeah, I was going to grow a potato taller than this freakin’ forest. They’d be Phaetatoes when I was done. Enough to feed the entire realm.
Always a pleasure to be in your head, my queen. Tyrrik’s laugh echoed in my head and aloud.
Up to my elbows in dirt, I lifted my head to look at him standing next to my father, my Phaetyn sisters on his other side.
How had we come to this moment when all had seemed hopeless? All this happiness might’ve slipped out of my grasp or never even been attained. So much risk . . .
And here we were filled with so much joy.
My family.
I grinned, my heart bursting with love. The word seemed pathetic to encompass all I felt. Love didn’t account for all the bad things it had taken to get here, but it was only because of the contrast of darkeness that I could appreciate the light. My joy was so great because I’d not only passed through pain and loss but triumphed over it. Together, with Tyrrik and others I loved, we’d fought the despondency and misery of fear, the control of a tyrant, and we’d won.
Tyrrik smiled back and then quirked a brow. Phaetatoes? I can’t wait to see one.
A call went up.
The Phaetyn either side of me tensed, and I did the same, turning my focus inward as their queen shouted, “Go!”