“I did lie. And I hated it. If I could’ve come up with any other way to break the oath, I would’ve.”
His words rang with honesty . . . but then, they’d done that before too. “So you say,” I mumbled, rolling toward the wall. “It’s been less than a week, and I don’t know if I have it in me to forgive that kind of thing. Just don’t deceive me anymore.”
8
A loud roar startled me awake. I sat up, smacking my head on the granite above. Before I could swear loud enough to bring the cave crashing down, a hand covered my mouth.
Be silent, Tyrrik said in my mind. He’s out there.
Who?
Your father.
My father. Emperor Draedyn. Pops. Pretty much the worst being in the entire realm. As a Drae he was all but invincible, like Tyrrik, but much older. More powerful, too, remembering Tyrrik’s comment about the emperor being alpha. As emperor, he had the entire populace at his disposal. His war of expansion had cost the realm countless lives. Are you sure he’s my father? How would you even know that?
Your mother told me. Before she died.
I can’t believe that I’m related to someone who kills so easily . . . or who experimented with Phaetyn and Drae.
He’s desperate enough to win the war that he’ll try anything to create a stronger army.
I took Tyrrik’s hand off my mouth; there was no need for him to force me to be quiet. Before I could release it, he turned his palm to mine and held tight.
The Drae outside roared again, and the darkness of night was suddenly alive with flame, the orange blast stretching a few feet inside our cave.
My heart leaped into my throat, but irritation overrode my fear when Tyrrik squeezed my hand. I lifted our joined hands, shaking them a little. Why are you holding my hand?
It’s better than you screaming.
I was not going to scream. If I did scream, it would be at him.
Are you sure? Because you were the one who took my hand.
I glared at him and withdrew my hand, but he re-captured it, tugging me off the bed. I followed him deeper into the caves as Emperor Draedyn lit up the sky again with a deafening roar of flame.
He’s calling to you.
Really? That took creeper to a whole new level. Like I was a hypnotized donkey or something.
Can’t you feel his call? Tyrrik stopped our hurried escape to study me. His gaze traveled over my face, relief appearing briefly when I shook my head.
If he can feel us, why doesn’t he come in and join us? I didn’t understand what was keeping us safe. The caverns were narrow, but certainly if the emperor shifted back to his human form, he’d be able to chase us.
He can only feel your general location and doesn’t know about these caves. They were discovered by the Drae long after Draedyn left the clan. Our alpha decided we needed new secrets when Draedyn ascended the throne; the old caves were abandoned, and the new ones were a guarded secret for a generation.
A generation? How old is he?
He has been the emperor since before my grandfather was born, but that’s all I remember.
So, at least a few hundred years old. My stomach churned. Why wasn’t anyone Ryn-age? Or even under one hundred?
Tyrrik led me down another corridor.
Where are we going? If I thought about how my sicko father was a million years old, I was going to throw up. I needed Tyrrik to talk to me about something else. Anything else.
The caves will take us halfway to Zivost. We’ll have to fly the rest of the way in the morning and hope Dyter and the Phaetyn are there.
The sneer in his voice when he spoke of Kamoi was unmistakable.
Personally, I felt quite bad about how I’d spoken to the prince when I last saw him. I’d need to explain that the transformation got the better of my temper back there. Hopefully he’d still let me get within staring distance.
Why do you hate Kamoi? I asked.
I don’t hate Kamoi. I hate the way he looks at you.
I heard the trickling of water and threw a quip back. Why? You think I’d like his nectar better?
Tyrrik stopped so suddenly I crashed into him. In one fluid movement, he turned, caught me in his arms, and pulled me to his chest.
Whoa. Easy there, Drae-man. I tried to pull away, but he only loosened his hold fractionally. His heart pounded against mine, and for a brief moment, his want was all I could fathom. Then a veil dropped over his side of our telepathic bond.
Would you? he asked me.
Even in my mind, his voice trembled. I knew my answer was important to him. The retort was on the tip of my tongue, to ask if he was really getting worked up about his nectar being better than Kamoi’s—which as far as I knew, Kamoi couldn’t even make as a Phaetyn—but hadn’t I just thought about how personal making nectar was last night? I don’t know. Kamoi can’t make nectar, can he?
I knew immediately my answer hadn’t been what he was looking for. Removing his grip from my arms, Tyrrik spun without a word and picked up the pace through the caves.
This time leaving my hand dangling at my side.
“Ryn,” a man’s voice rumbled in my ear. Still caught in my dream, I flailed, and my fist shot up. I came to, listening to Tyrrik’s muffled cursing from where I clipped him.
“You hit me,” he grumbled, stating the obvious.
I blinked the last bit of sleep, and my dream, away. “Sorry, you woke me at a bad moment.”
He dropped his hand from where he rubbed his jaw. “Oh? A good dream?’
“What?” I frowned. “No. A bad one.” The emperor had been chasing us through the caves, and we couldn’t find the end. I yawned loudly, stretching my arms high above my head as I sat, and scowled at Tyrrik when I saw him watching.
The Drae was as fresh as a daisy—if that daisy was dressed in a rumpled black aketon.
After walking through the cave system for most of the night, we’d stopped to sleep close to the back exit. My eyes were scratchy and my shoulder muscles tight. My Phaetyn powers didn’t seem to be healing my Drae side, and I wanted to drink a gallon of nectar and sleep for a week.
“You’ll be able to sleep when we get to Zivost, Khosana.” He touched his jaw again, his gaze thoughtful. “At least for a bit.”
I pouted; he was plotting more for me. I was so tired I couldn’t muster the energy to be ashamed of a little lip-droppage. “How much longer? I mean until we get there.”
I wasn’t ready to hear how little rest I’d be granted.
His gaze dropped to my lips, and his reply came out strangled. “One day.”
A whole day. That sounded like ages.
Tyrrik reached into his aketon pocket, drew out a small burlap sack, and then tossed it to me.
Smelling the brak, I tore into the bag as soon as I’d caught it. I stuffed a handful of broken pieces into my mouth then paused and looked in the bag. Empty. I chewed and spoke around my food. “Um, did you want any?”
Tyrrik snorted. “If I do?”
I chewed again, pushing the food to the side of my mouth. “I’m not sure, honestly. I was hoping you’d say no.”