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He wrinkled his nose, and his brother nudged him and jerked his head at me. “Lentil stew would be fine,” the biggest of the three said in a voice much deeper than his brother. Unease skittered down my spine at their obvious foreignness. Everyone knew the menus at taverns like Dyter’s and Dyrell’s.
He breathed out warm air, and I shivered as it hit my back. Glancing back to shoot another insult his way, my breath caught as bright blue rippled through his scales in a wave. “Why do they do that?” I whispered, getting to my feet. I laid my hand on his scales, and as I did, the blue flickered in its depths. Warm tingles ran up my arm, and the skin where my scales had started to appear pulsed. “What is that?”
“No, Khosana. I said you don’t have to get on your horse.” He held out his hand. “We need to be quick, and you’re tired.” I shook my head. Being near him messed with me, and my head and my heart didn’t need any more strain. “I’ll ride my own horse. You just want to touch me.”
“And I always want to touch you,” he whispered in my ear.
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.
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.
I nodded, gaze fixed on the golden box. So shiny. This was my greatest treasure. I’d put it in a great spot. The thought halted me. No, it had to go in a secret spot, somewhere no one would find it. My eyes slid to Tyrrik. Would he try to steal it back? I’d need to be careful. No one stole my hoard. Even knowing I was being irrational, I couldn’t talk myself out of my obsession with treasure. “I’m going inside now.”
With a totally straight face, Tyrrik said, “I guess this means you like my nectar.” I blanched. “You did not just say that.”
“Your senses are good,” he purred. “Very good.” My chest swelled. I have a golden trinket, too. “It’s a beautiful trinket. You will take good care of it.” “Thank you,” I said gravely. “I will.” The weirdness of the conversation didn’t elude me, but, somehow, it was important that Tyrrik knew I could take care of precious things.
With a heartfelt groan, I let the thread fly free. My energy shot straight to the other Drae, and I shivered in bliss as we reconnected. My gaze went to his face which lit with a fierce joy as our energies brushed against each other. That . . . seemed unusual.
“Can you see her? How she used to be?” Kamoi asked in a rough whisper.
“Did you see my mother?” He choked on the last word, his Adam’s apple bobbing. Kamoi gritted his teeth and closed his eyes, breathing hard.
I might've narrowly missed my calling as Soap Queen of Verald, but that didn't make me an idiot. I’d seen the same hungry looks on the young men in Verald as those on the younger Phaetyn rioting at the tree. Whatever was happening here, either the queen wasn’t making the choices, or she was making the wrong ones. Happy subjects didn’t have that look on their faces. Trees didn’t decay when properly tended to. Dyter was right. We’d walked into a civil war.
I pulled Tyrrik’s arm up and scooted to the edge of the bed, gently placing his arm back at his side. He mumbled again, his forehead creasing into a furrow that smoothed as soon as I tentatively reached out and touched it. Yeah. This was next level stuff. The guy stopped frowning when I touched him. Don’t panic; it’s probably nothing. A cold sweat broke out on my forehead. Whatever this was would have to wait.
“But you're asking the wrong question. What you want to know is whether you can see all truths, not just those pertaining to you. Only the queen with the ancestral power can see the truth of all past and current events from any tree.”
Tyrrik wore new trousers, tied at his waist. Something about them bothered me, and figuring out just what took a moment. The trousers weren’t black; they were green. Ha! I’d never seen Tyrrik in anything but black clothing.
“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.”
“We’re not in the castle anymore,” I repeated in a whisper. “Please stop acting like you’re still under the Blood Oath. Hiding things from me won’t keep you or me safe. You hated being controlled.” I blinked, and the tears spilled over the corners of my eyes. “I hate being controlled, too.”
“Mistress moons!” Dyter sputtered. I screamed, jumping a meter off the ground. “Oh my stars,” Dyter hollered as he stepped back out the open door. “My eyes. Oh stars. I can’t . . . I can’t unsee that.”
“Your hoard is for our family. By collecting precious objects and keeping them safe, you are showing me you would make a good mother to our children.” My attention caught on good mother and children, and my mind blanked. I edged out of Tyrrik’s grip in a subtle movement no one probably noticed.
