I propped Dyter’s cloak under Tyrrik’s head and ran my fingers through the limp strands of his hair. His breathing did seem shallow, but his skin had better color than in Zivost. Or was that just the way the moons were reflecting off his skin?
I tossed Dyter the water skin and waited until I heard him climbing down the rocks.
“You better not die on me,” I muttered. I traced Tyrrik’s mouth and sealed my lips to his. I gasped as pure heat flooded through my body, breaking the connection. “You’re not supposed to be enjoying this, Ryn,” I scolded myself. I closed the distance again, this time blocking out the feel of his mouth against mine.
Tyrrik’s darkness was like a cloudy night sky when the moons and stars were hidden and the warmth of the day was trapped beneath the haze of moisture. But spotting the black canvas were several droplets of pale gold, nothing like before, but still there, where it shouldn’t be. Now that I knew what I was looking for, it was easy to pick off the Phaetyn poison from within the Drae and even easier to burn it out.
I let myself sink into the darkness and saw deep within the Drae’s core a spark of blue dancing in the pitch. The lapis-colored flame reminded me of the blue that would pulse in Tyrrik’s scales sometimes. I pushed my energy into the flame, making it burn brighter, and together we obliterated every last speck of gold.
I broke the connection and took a deep breath, pulling my energy into my lungs. I listened for Dyter, and when I didn’t hear him, I leaned over the Drae and pressed my lips to his again. I exhaled, passing more of my vibrant blue energy to the Drae, and his pale flame surged briefly.
I grinned in triumph as I felt him shift on the ground, but I was careful not to break our connection.
One of his hands slid up my arm, and I squeaked in surprised. But Tyrrik’s touch was like fire, and as he cupped the back of my neck, his fingers threading into my hair, I melted into him. His other arm encircled my waist, tugging me down. I relaxed my body so my torso was flush with his, resting my hands on his smooth, warm chest.
His tongue brushed against mine, and tingles burst and skittered across my skin and through my chest. Desire rose, but Tyrrik shuddered, his body heaved, and I pulled back just in time to watch him roll to the side and throw up.
Ugh. I grimaced.
He coughed and sputtered, bringing up more clear fluid that smelled sour and rank. I remembered the crystal fluid the guards had been pouring into his mouth. What was that? I should’ve asked Kamoi before we left.
My anger flared at the Phaetyn once again, and I rested my hand on Tyrrik’s cheek. “Shh.”
His eyes fluttered open, and he mumbled incoherently before passing out again.
“That was so not how I thought kissing you would go,” I muttered. I ripped off one of the wispy panels from my skirt and dried Tyrrik’s mouth. “I finally contemplate forgiving you, and you throw up. That’s not allowed. You owe me a real kiss.”
I tensed at the sound of rocks scattering behind me.
“About time,” Dyter said from the entrance with a chuckle, swinging the water skin as he shifted farther into the large cave.
I glowered at him. “Time for what?”
“That you acknowledge what’s between you.”
My cheeks flushed. “What are you talking about?”
Dyter lifted a brow. “Come on, Ryn. You’re his mate”—he pointed back and forth between the two of us—“and he’s yours.”
I fell mute, my gaze fixed on Tyrrik. In my peripheral vision, I saw Dyter rest the water skin beside me, and then he circled around and sat on the other side of the Drae, opposite where I crouched. Dyter was staring at me, I could feel his gaze on my face, but I couldn’t meet his eyes. I swallowed hard and stammered, “Y-you don’t know that.”
“You think Tyrrik would’ve done the things he has for anything less? He’s been enslaved for one hundred years. According to you, he’s an expert manipulator, and he’d have to be to save his own skin for an entire century. Think of all he’s done for you—no one but the two of you know all of it—and tell me if there is any other explanation that makes sense.”
Several seconds passed, but I wasn’t racking my brain. There was another reason, and it had haunted me ever since I found out what I was. “I was the only other Drae in Verald.”
“No, you weren’t,” Dyter corrected. “He stood by while your mother sacrificed herself to let you get away. If it was a kinship thing, he wouldn’t have allowed that.”
Right. I scowled at the old man, who was now massaging his stump. “You’ve got it all figured out, haven’t you?”
He stopped, the ropey scar on his slack face darkening, and said, “Come now, my girl. You have it figured out, too. That’s why you’re running so hard.”
“I’m crouching,” I corrected.
“Don’t be immature.”
I rolled my eyes, but my heart was pounding. I had known there was something. I wasn’t an idiot, but I was scared of what having that connection with another meant. Terrified really.
I snatched up the water skin and uncorked it. Tipping my head back, I gulped half of the water.
“You see the color of your scales in his,” Dyter said.
I choked on the water in my mouth, backwashing a little into the flagon. Hmm. Served Tyrrik right for throwing up on me.
Putting my finger in the remaining water, I thought of Tyrrik and how I needed the water to be nectar so I could heal him. Conjuring up that desire was all too easy. Right now, that only made me grit my teeth. I didn’t like that in only a couple of weeks, my barriers had fallen so much. My heart knew I wanted Tyrrik alive, and making nectar for him was effortless. It shouldn’t be so easy already.
I held the container to his lips, and a mixture of relief and sick satisfaction swept through me when he drank the remainder of the water. I glanced up at Dyter and asked, “You’re really going to press the issue?”
“Denial never did anyone any good,” he said with a frown.
As if that was enough to convince me. “Seems to be working pretty well, so far.”
Dyter shook his head. “You’re better than that, Ryn. I’m not saying life has been easy for you the last few months; I know it hasn’t. But you chose to come on this journey. You’ve chosen to join the war against the emperor—”
Picked up on that, did he? “I had to after making such a big deal of Phaetyn sticking their heads in the dirt and ignoring the realm. They were being stupid.”
Dyter shifted on the rocky ground, reclining against the wall of the cave. He exhaled slowly, as if bracing himself, and then whispered, “You’re doing the same thing with Tyrrik.”
Ouch. How could he say that?
“It’s a little different, Dyter,” I said sarcastically. At least, I meant my tone to be sarcastic. What came out seemed more along the lines of bitterness. “No one is dying because of my choice.”
“Drae have one mate, Rynnie. Only one. Ever.”
I tossed the empty container to the side and exploded to my feet. “What are you saying? I should forget everything that’s happened to me? That because he might be my mate I just decide, ‘oh what the hay, I guess we better get together for life?’”