Shadow Wings (Darkest Drae #2)

“Are you strong enough to fly today?” Dyter asked when he finished.

Tyrrik’s face was turned upward as he scanned the skies, his eyes narrowed and reptilian. “I am strong enough to fly and carry you for a time, but I doubt the entire way. At least, not without help.”

I stiffened. Did he mean help from me? Like pushing my female Drae mojo into him?

“Definitely stay hydrated,” I said, deflecting.

I stood and imagined Tyrrik’s touch on my wings, and then shivered as scales erupted over my skin. My neck, tail, and fangs lengthened, and I shifted. In a handful of days, turning into my Drae form felt so natural and so right.

I stood on the side of the mountain, a magnificent lapis lazuli Drae. Dyter had only seen my Drae form on the run in Phaetynville, but he now had a chance to openly gape. Which he did in an awed way appropriate for a creature possessing my grace. Did he think all Drae had such vibrant, opulent scales? Such powerful tails? Such a deadly curve to their talons. I preened, reveling in his open admiration.

You are truly beautiful, Ryn.

I sniffed, trying to ignore Tyrrik, and stretched my neck to look in the opposite direction.

But when the shimmering of Tyrrik’s transformation caught the corner of my eye, I couldn’t not look. I turned back and gazed upward at the massive onyx Drae. Even after seeing him in this form many times, the ferocity of his talons, fangs, the lethal edges to his body and tail, took my breath away.

Dyter’s, too, apparently, who hastily backed away.

You’re bigger than me, I grumbled to Tyrrik as I compared our Drae forms.

Tyrrik swung his head toward me, white fangs gleaming. You are much faster, Princess.

I huffed. That was probably true, given my streamlined frame. I bet I could beat him in a race.

You definitely would, he agreed.

I purred with his praise and then mentally slapped myself.

As Tyrrik held out a claw for Dyter to climb aboard, I crouched close to the ground and leaped into the air, beating my wings down to create the lift I needed to fly. As the air caught under my majestic wings, I could barely contain the need to throw my head back and roar. I climbed above the pine trees and glided down over the rocky mountain.

I was flying, and it felt so incredibly right. I was a Phaetyn, I possessed some of their powers, and I wanted to help and to heal. But in my heart, in my soul, I was Drae.

Relenting, in part, to the joy in my heart at knowing who I was, I let loose a small roar.

You must stay quiet, Tyrrik said, already in the air behind me.

I did as he said, but I could totally rip the emperor’s head off. Probably. With a little more training.

I circled to let Tyrrik lead the way. He altered our course, and we headed farther north. I glanced ahead and saw Dyter sitting on his butt in Tyrrik’s claw, pale-faced and wide-eyed. I chortled my amusement and beat my wings hard to surge upward.

Maybe I would remain in my Drae form for a while. I was sick of being human-Ryn, barefoot in a corset.

Where is the Gemond Kingdom? I asked.

Tyrrik answered, Straight ahead, nestled in the mountains at the northern end of the realm. They are much closer to the emperor’s lands there. Not as close as Azule but within his reach. You must be on guard.

Okay, what should I be looking for?

You watch the ground for Druman; I’ll watch the skies for the emperor.

That suited me just fine. I needed to be searching for signs of Phaetyn anyway. I’d briefly forgotten Kamini’s sister during my joy ride.

Even if she’s been very careful, finding her shouldn’t be too hard if she’s still alive and in these mountains.

I startled before remembering Tyrrik would’ve heard the last conversation I’d had with Prince Kamoi. If I couldn’t see any signs of Phaetyn-juiced growth between here and the Gemond Kingdom, I’d have to search the mountains farther east the first chance I got.

To the west, Tyrrik said.

I peered west and saw a dozen clusters of vibrant green standing out in stark contrast to the barren land below. I’m looking at the ground. I gnashed my fangs together.

I just happened to see it out of the corner of my eye.

Sure you did.

He didn’t answer, but I felt his amusement through the weaving bond between us. The bond reminded me of his push and pull hoo-ha, and I blocked out the memory, setting my attention to the ground.

We didn’t come across another patch of green for half an hour, and this time, there were several dozen patches in clusters over a dozen or so mountain ranges. I lowered as movement caught my eye. Tyrrik, what’s that?

His great head swung to look down, and his alarm blared through my mind. Druman, he spoke. We need to get in the cloud line.

I obeyed, beating my wings and following him higher until we floated through wisps of cloud with a foggier view of the ground.

I scanned the Druman below, spotting five of them milling around the patches of green. My thoughts stirred uneasily. Why are they around the green patches? I asked Tyrrik.

Maybe they’re digging for potatoes.

I rolled my eyes.

Or maybe they know a Phaetyn has to have caused that growth.

That was my concern. Tyrrik, they can’t find Kamini’s sister before us.

I know, but we don’t need to worry. It’s just one Druman scouting party. Even if they report the sighting to Drayden, it will take him a while to respond. Once we get to Gemond and heal, we’ll go out looking for her.

We passed over the range and left the Druman behind us. I redoubled my efforts, scanning the ground. Despite Tyrrik’s reassurances, I felt his focus on the skies had also increased.

The next grouping of luscious green emerged two hours later.

Do you think they’re just random patches? I asked. Maybe we were getting way too excited over patches of green.

He hadn’t spoken in a while, and by now I could feel him straining to keep going through the bond.

No. This Phaetyn is careful, just as your mother was when distributing your gift.

That was a nice way to say she’d sprinkled people’s gardens with my bath water.

Or your chamber pot, he added. But there is a Phaetyn down there.

I had to agree with him. From up here, the contrast of the otherwise barren land to the pockets of water was blatant. How long did you know there was a Phaetyn in Verald?

How old were you when you came to Verald?

Just a baby, I think.

Then eighteen years, he said.

You knew the entire time there was a Phaetyn and never told the king?

I didn’t have to. The presence of a Phaetyn posed no threat to his life or his rule. I wasn’t compelled to tell him through the Blood Oath.

My mother had eighteen years of peace because Tyrrik wasn’t the monster everyone, myself included, had assumed. Thank you.

No one is more grateful than I that I never had to divulge information regarding your presence.

Things would be a lot different if I’d been Irdelron’s prisoner as a baby. I never would’ve survived. My gaze slid to Tyrrik, and he shivered. I focused on him, eyes narrowed, and caught the words, had to wait eighteen years.

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