Shadow Wings (Darkest Drae #2)

Horror flooded me, and I hastened to make sure we weren’t touching, but it appeared as though the Drae was merely smelling . . . me. Playing dumb, I asked, “Rein what in?”

My feigned ignorance disappeared when I turned to face Tyrrik, and I gasped in awe. For well over a week, he’d been flashing a vibrant blue color underneath the onyx black of his scales, but I now saw it as though for the first time through my new and improved Drae eyes. The wispy strands of darkness around him had threads of blue, and his scales pulsated with lapis lazuli. My gaze zoomed in and focused on the sight, and I crawled closer to him on all fours. Kneeling in front of him, I reached out in a daze. I brushed my fingertips across his exposed collarbone, touching his scales.

“They’re beautiful,” I breathed.

He puffed out his chest, and his shuddering lessened.

Why was he puffing up like that? I inhaled again and—what would my mother say—swayed on the spot. My heart pounded, and my breaths became shallow as I leaned toward him. The desire to close the distance was a magnetic force, and I remembered how his kisses tasted like nectar. “Tyrrik,” I whispered. I shook my head, trying to clear the fog. “What is going on?”

“You need to switch off the . . . signal you’re sending,” Tyrrik said, his own shallow breaths an almost desperate panting.

“What signal?” I asked shrilly, my fear spiking. “I don’t know what signal I’m sending!”

He stood abruptly. “It’s a signal to male Drae. Your scent.”

“Y-you mean—” My lips parted in awe as I stammered, “Like a . . .” Mating call? “Oh.”

“Yes, oh,” he ground out. In a blur which my new eyes easily tracked, he exited the cave.

Perhaps, it would be best if I didn’t sniff people anymore. Or, at least, not male Drae. Which meant I shouldn’t smell Tyrrik anymore. I pursed my lips as I contemplated not smelling that scent. In truth, I wasn’t sure I didn’t want to smell him. That stuff was better than honey-cakes.

“Ryn!”

I blew out a long exhale and looked up into the darkness of the cave, which welcomed me as though I was an old friend, and I set my mind to platonic observations. Like how I could see everything though it was pitch black in here. The cave was beautiful, and I wondered if Tyrrik’s lair back in Verald was this pretty inside. The walls here were sleek granite, and a glistening pool bubbled languorously in a stream through the middle of the chamber.

Several body-sized indents had been made into the side of one wall, and I wondered if Tyrrik and other Drae used the hard resting places to sleep when they were here. A pleasant humming rumble came out of my mouth as I smiled and gazed around the cave. The dark cavern could use a comfortable touch here and there. Not so much flowers or pictures but maybe some gold treasure and gems and a blanket or two in case I got cold. I frowned. Actually, I was really warm. Last time I’d been in Tyrrik’s cave, I’d been freezing, hadn’t I? Or was that the heat stroke? What if I could breathe fire now? Perspiration broke out on my brow. Was that why my voice was so hoarse? I was not ready for fire to come out of my throat.

“You can’t breathe fire,” Tyrrik called in.

“Are you kidding? Why not?” I clambered to my feet and paused halfway to the entrance when it occurred to me I hadn’t spoken my fire-breathing thoughts aloud. “No,” I said, straightening. “No way. Please tell me your answer was a coincidence.”

“It was a coincidence,” he said, standing in the mouth of the cave. Sunlight streamed in around him, putting his strong, towering frame in silhouette. I eyed the bright light in distaste. That would hurt my eyes, I was certain, so I stayed back in the darkness.

What’s thirteen plus three? I asked silently, seeing another wisp of blue in the darkness.

Sixteen, he answered.

“We don’t need to be touching to hear each other now?” I asked, my shoulders slumping. Had he heard all the sniffing stuff, too? How humiliating. Telepathy wouldn’t be awkward. Not one bit. “Is that a Drae kin thing?”

He shrugged. “I’m not ecstatic about it either.”

A foreign joy seeped through to me, tinged with fear. The emotion didn’t reflect my current mood, and I studied the feeling skeptically until I put it together, and my mouth dropped open. “But you are. You—you want it. The telepathic stuff. You like it.” I studied the hints of fear he was putting out. “At least, mostly.”

He scratched the back of his head, and I wished his expression was visible.

I changed the subject. “So, I’m strong, and I can smell,” I said. “That’s all I get?”

“For now. Smell is the sense most crucial for survival, so it is present from the beginning. You possess the ability to use your other senses in this form, too, but using them will require practice.”

“My senses were all over the place before the transformation.” I frowned.

“You were partially transformed and scared. Your senses in this form will be most accessible when you feel threatened.” He waved at me, beckoning for me to join him outside. “We need to begin your training. We’ll need to leave here the morning after next, and you need to know, at least, the basics. The rest will come in time or as you get older.”

Training? No way. That sounded like work, and my body was still tuckered. I yawned, and my jaw cracked. I curled up on my side and, with a shooing gesture, said, “Maybe once night falls. I feel like a nap.”

“I was going to teach you to fly,” Tyrrik beckoned.

“Tonight,” I repeated lazily, partially asleep already.

A high-pitched clink echoed through the cave from the entrance. I opened my eyes, sliding my gaze back to Tyrrik. My mouth dried as I saw what he held aloft. Playing it cool, I asked, “What’s that?”

“A gold trinket.”

Desire shot through me, and I propped myself up, licking my lips. “What kind of trinket?”

“It’s an antique pill box that once belonged to an esteemed baroness.” He tossed the pill box in his hand. “Want it?”

The gold beckoned me. It was just what this cave needed. A bit of sparkling wealth. Actually, I needed it. I got to my feet and murmured, “Yes.”

“Come for your flying lesson, and it’s yours.” His silky voice wrapped around me, pulling me to him with a warm undercurrent to it.

I narrowed my eyes and studied him. Tyrrik’s face was smooth, his impassive mask on, and I couldn’t help my suspicion. His offer seemed fair. I walked toward the gold and said, “Flying lesson, and it’s mine; no tricks.”

At least, I meant to walk, but I went faster. A lot faster.

I shrieked as I blurred toward Tyrrik, my arms flailing. He caught me around the waist as I crashed into him, the air whooshing out of me as my silver hair fanned around us.

“Sorry,” I managed, brushing back my locks. Was all of the brown gone? My Drae transformation must have burned the dye out of my hair.

He snorted and slowly withdrew his arm. “Nothing I can’t handle.” He brushed the rest of my hair over my shoulder. “I like it better silver.”

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