A flower that belonged to Mum and me—and to everyone who had perished in the last few months.
“It’s a new flower,” I answered him in a firm voice. A reminder of who I was today, and who I’d loved at this moment. In a few days, I would transform into a Drae, but I would always have this flower here as a sign of who I’d been once.
Dyter squeezed my other hand, and I returned the gentle pressure, whispering as I looked to the sky, “It’s called a Tyr.”
“A Tear,” Dyter said, misunderstanding the name as I’d known he would. “That’s a beautiful name, Ryn. I hope more grow.”
My heart squeezed, but I took a breath, and air finally filled my lungs.
“As do I, Dyter.” My gaze flickered to the rolling hills concealing Lord Tyrrik. In a handful of days, he wouldn’t be the only Drae in Verald anymore. I’d be a monster, just like him. I took a shaking breath. “As do I.”