Shadow Wings (The Darkest Drae, #2)

by Kelly St. Claire

I glanced at the darkest corner of the tavern, an area previously used for storage. The morning after my arrival, the jerk with wings, aka Broody-Britches, cleared out the boxes and set up a small table and chair there, telling me he wasn’t leaving until I was Drae and could protect myself. For the first time, I wished I hadn’t stacked up the boxes around his table to block him from view. I didn’t like him watching me, but I did feel safe when he was there. Not that I’d admit that to anyone. One more day, and I’d be invincible, and Lord Nightmare would finally leave me in peace. Maybe then, my heart would forget.

sighed and faced Lord Black-Wing-Broody-Britches-Nightmare-Man.

His skin was the color of Meemaw’s burnt sugar, and he was larger than any man in the tavern, probably because he wasn’t just a man but also a dragon with huge black wings and fangs. As I stared, scales erupted on his chest, the ebony gems flecked with vibrant blue, peeking from the V in his aketon. He continued to study me, his gaze dropping to my lips again before returning to my eyes.

He stepped behind me, wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me to him, a menacing sound rumbling in his chest. I stiffened and tensed to shove away from him, but he grabbed my bare wrist and spoke in my mind. Not now. I need to get you out of here. You can be angry at me later. The darkness continued to coil around us, wrapping us in its silky embrace. Tyrrik pulled me closer. This was the first time I’d let him touch me since we’d left the castle, and something in my chest felt funny with the contact.

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?”

“The rumors are true,” he said as he bowed over my hand. “My lady, I am glad to find you, another Phaetyn.” Unease crawled over me with his words where his touch hadn’t bothered me. I couldn’t help where my mind went. I formed the words with a thick tongue. “We’re the only two left?” A teasing light entered his eyes. “No, my Lady. I am merely one of our kind. I am the Prince of the Phaetyn.”

“How did you fail to mention that?” “I’m fairly certain, I told you to go to Zivost when I tried to help you escape the dungeons.” He tilted his head at me, and continued in a dry voice, “And somehow, the Phaetyn didn’t come up again in the last three days when you were pretending I didn’t exist.” I cleared my throat, refusing to dignify that with an answer.

The stunning Prince of the Phaetyn peered past me, and I felt the heat at my back increase as Tyrrik neared. The Drae stood just behind me, and I shot a look at Dyter who wiped the smirk off his face in a flash.

They were Tyrs as I’d named them. Tears to everyone else who didn’t know about the man I’d fallen in love with while captive. A gentle, kind, caring soul who I’d believed I could’ve spent the rest of my life with. If he’d been real.

“You, of all people, should know. If you want me involved in the talk, you’ll need to bring it out here.” Lord Tyrrik snorted. Always dressed from head to toe in tight-fitting, liquid black, the Drae looked rumpled this morning. Being a creature of the night, I doubted he appreciated the early start, and it showed in his dark disheveled hair and the slow blink of his eyes. “Would you like me to ask the king to come outside to talk to you?” I arched a brow. “That’s what I said.” His lips curved into a smile as he dipped his head. “As you wish, Khosana. And . . . happy birthday.” “Yeah, yeah.” I waved him away. He’d remembered my birthday?

Something about the Phaetyn prince infused me with warmth. I liked to think it was the qualities of his personality, but I suspected a fair portion of the warmth was due to more superficial traits. “Tell me, my Ryn, what was your childhood like? Tell me your favorite foods, your favorite colors, your favorite everything. I want to know all about you.” Tyrrik growled. “Maybe she doesn’t want to tell you.” The prince waved away Tyrrik’s protestation.

The prince bowed to me and then rode toward Dyter. I glared at Tyrrik. “I was going to handle it.” He quirked a brow. “I could see. But we need Prince Kamoi alive to get into Zivost. And then you will need someone to train you there. Neither of those things would happen if you killed him.” “I was not going to kill him,” I ground out. Hit him, possibly, but that wouldn’t kill him. I needed to get a grip. “Of course not,” Tyrrik replied. He studied me

I turned to Tyrrik, but my words dried up in my parched mouth. I hated him for lying to me. I hated myself because although I hated him, I felt safest when he was near. My head was messed up, and though the abuse I’d suffered wasn’t all his fault, so much of my distrust of the world was. “If you ever want me to trust you, ever, you need to stop hiding things from me. Stop omitting details. Stop passively letting me come to the wrong conclusion. If you want my trust, you need to stop doing what you’re doing.”

His warm breath sent shivers down my spine, and a current of energy pulsated between us. I swallowed, pushing down the desire to turn toward him. Instead, I batted him away. “Why did you have to whisper that in my ear?” His gaze dipped to my lips. “No secret on that, Ryn. I wanted to be close to you.”

“You are the Emperor’s daughter.” I snorted and waited. “I’m telling the truth.” I opened my eyes and stared at him. “Wash your mouth out.” “What?” Tyrrik asked, concern in his eyes. Probably for my mental state because that sure was under pressure at the moment. I choked out the words. “You’re not serious?” “I never joke when it comes to you.”

“I thought you said I didn’t have to get on the horse.” I put my hands on my hips in protest. “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.” His features softened, but he shook his head. “We don’t have time to go at your pace. If we make it, it’ll be just in time. Your energy is all over the place, and I don’t want to risk a talon to the eye if I don’t have to. The sun has already started its descent, so you’ll be feeling night’s call soon, if you’re not already.”

I didn’t want to transform here. I accepted the Drae’s hand, and he pulled me up in front of him. “And I always want to touch you,” he whispered in my ear.

He obliged, filling the shiny stemware and giving it back to me. I took another long drink, although this one was more to avoid talking about what happened last night. That Tyrrik saw me as a screaming, blubbering, contorting mess deeply embarrassed me. I was inordinately grateful that he had been here. He’d said I’d need help, and as I thought of the hourly baths he’d given me in the pool of nectar and the words of encouragement through the night, I no longer doubted this fact.

huffed, a mannerism that would look less odd in his Drae form. “It is not easy to watch someone go through that,” he said. “I have never cared for another Drae during their transformation before.” “You did a stellar job,” I mumbled. My pitiful gratitude was lost as the buzz of languid fatigue spread through me, and I closed my eyes and leaned into him. I could probably sleep for a week.

My mouth watered, and I slapped a hand over my lips before any of my saliva spilled out. My cheeks heated, and I dropped my gaze and yelped when I saw thread-like energy in vibrant blue and green coming from my core. I blinked again, and the wisps of color disappeared, but the captivating scent did not. “What is it?” Tyrrik rumbled beside me, his breath washing over me. What is it? I swallowed. Tyrrik smelled freaking incredible is what. I took another deep breath and let the scent wash over me.

Slap me with a pancake and call me a potato! I could exist on that smell alone. I loved it so much I could roll around in it, lick it up like syrup, I could . . . I blinked through the sudden fog of desire surrounding me. “N-nothing?”

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.

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.”

I surveyed him down the length of my snout and decided to let the man touch me, but the decision was calculated. He was a Drae and far more powerful than me. The closer he came, the more I could feel his prowess and strength. Yes, this wasn’t one to anger. If anything, he’d be an excellent mate to provide strong young. My human mind broke out of its tiny corner. Whoa. Mate? Where did that come from? Me and my Drae form needed to get some things settled. He rested his hand on my foreclaw. You are perfect, Khosana. You just called me princess. That’s what Khosana meant? He’d been calling me princess this entire time? Do I speak Drae now? In this form, yes. My chest puffed out. I was Drae, and my form was perfect.

Tyrrik’s eyes shone as he practically ran toward me. His smile, a rare thing to behold, was as wide as I’d ever seen it.

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.

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.

“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.”

“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.

Do you expect a priceless heirloom for everything? You set a precedent is all I’m saying.

My mind boggled at the possibilities of treasure. He had to have a decent collection. “Is it a Drae thing to collect?” “No. Not all Drae do it. Male Drae collect items during their life, but not for themselves.”

something. Staring up at him, I scooted closer as I asked, “Really?” He grinned, a wide carefree smile, and the boyishness it lent his face stunned me. I stumbled on the uneven ground, and my heart flipped. “You okay?” he asked, frowning as he closed the distance to help. I regained my step and ignored his hand but couldn’t stop the blush from creeping up my neck.

I’d been wanting to for more than twenty minutes now. 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. Unease skirted down my spine at what that could mean. He better not tell me I was his other half or something stupid like that.

“But Drae other than us can, right?” I wasn’t sure I could handle that kind of special right now. “Yes, Ryn. We’ve already established we’re not the only two Drae that can do energy mojo.” I grinned. “You said mojo. I knew I was rubbing off on you.” He rolled his eyes, and the air around him shimmered.

shrieked as my body slammed into solid stone. My vision spotted black again, and the pulse of agony made my head spin. The breath whooshed from my lungs, and I retched. A fraction of a second later, I blinked in the darkness. Another fraction later, I understood. I was in Tyrrik’s claws. I hadn’t hit stone . . . he’d caught me. I sagged into the flesh of his palm just as he crashed into the ground. He’d been too close to the ground to stop his trajectory. Holy pancakes. He screeched beneath me, fire shooting from his Drae mouth into the sky, wings caught between his body and the rocks. One second, I was in his black scaly palm, and the next, I was lying on top of Lord Tyrrik. He gasped, and I scurried off, my mind blank with shock. “I’m s-sorry,” I said, teeth chattering as I backed away from Tyrrik’s prostrate form. “I’m so, so . . .”

We’d landed a few hundred meters from a lush forest, with golden filaments of energy shrouding the woods, except between us and the trees sat a thick barrier of jutting, stone spikes. Tyrrik lay impaled on a spike on the very edge of the barrier. I rushed to his side and dropped to my knees as I stared at the jagged piece of rock protruding from above his right breast. I swallowed the sob working its way up my throat and hovered, my hands trembling above the injury. “What have I done?”

brushed his dark hair from his cool brow, streaking his blood across his forehead. My tears dripped on his whiskered cheeks, his pale lips. His dying breath still smelled like the nectar he gave me. I closed my eyes and rested my forehead to his, the temperature of his skin warming beneath me. I let his breath, his skin, his presence fill me. And then, I pressed my lips to his.

I thought of the times he’d come to me as Tyr to give me food. To dress my wounds. To cover me in blankets. I breathed in through my nose and exhaled into his mouth, pushing my need for him into his lungs. I thought of the lapis-blue color dancing in his scales, the color that matched my own Drae. I thought of the secret gratified emotion as a wisp of power and breathed it into him.

Steadying myself, I gently brought his head back to the center and sealed our lips again. Envisioning the blue flame deep within my core, I stoked the power of my Phaetyn energy and pushed, no gushed, this force into Tyrrik, bathing him inside and out with my healing force. Tyrrik was Drae, dark and warm like night; his heart had to reflect this. A sharp pain stabbed at my temples, but I doubled my efforts as I saw the golden beads dissolving and even held fast when Tyrrik arched off the ground. I burned away everything, every single piece of poisonous gold, until everything was dark and warm once more. I slumped against Tyrrik.

I’d faded out, exhausted by the expenditure of energy. I huddled against Tyrrik, tears slipping down my cheeks into his clothing.

I didn’t stop until Tyrrik’s skin had knit together into a pale line. I sagged against him, head pounding, vision blurry. Wavering, I lay my head on his chest, concentrating, and hiccupped again when I heard his heartbeat. The rate was steady but slow. His respirations weren’t wet anymore, and although they were slow, his breaths were deeper. My lips trembled, and I heaved a sigh. Not dead. I closed my eyes and whispered, “Please be okay.”

I ran my hands over his now perfectly smooth chest, assuring myself his wound hadn’t opened again. “Tyrrik,” I said in a tight voice. “You’re al’right?” He chuckled wearily, a low throaty sound of warm embers. “Just weak. Are you okay, Khosana?” A tear slipped from my eye, emotions breaking away from my control. “You’re worried about me? I nearly killed you.” His eyes found mine, slightly unfocused. “You’ve been Drae less than three days; the fault was mine. I should’ve been clearer. You saved my life.”

thought you were dying.” Smiling, he tugged on my hand, and I let him pull me down. Resting my head on his chest, shoulders still shaking,

In fact, if I was honest, I craved reassurance right now. “You really would’ve died?” His face was painted with gore, but when he smiled, my heart lifted. “I was dying, Ryn. You saved me.” I harrumphed and patted his chest through his torn and bloody aketon. With a deep breath, I sat up and said, “I figured I owed you.”

“What can I do to help you heal?” My feelings for Tyrrik were a tangled mess, and seeing as I’d only admitted there was a tangled mess, I wasn’t yet sure I wanted to sort those feelings out. My chest clenched as I recalled the rock splicing through his right shoulder. He sighed. “Kissing me might help.” My heart thumped in my chest, and I blinked. “Are you serious?” The prospect excited me more than it should, though witnessing Tyrrik nearly die had brought more dread than I’d expected too. I scowled as a smirk lifted the corner of his full mouth.

Tyrrik’s pine needle, smoke, and steel aroma overwhelmed everything else. Hot potatoes, he smelled so good. I opened my eyes and glared at him, clambering to my feet. “I can’t smell anything with you near.” He lifted his head and peeled his eyelids back for a brief moment. With a small smile, he asked, “Why are you still sniffing then?” I caught myself mid-inhale. Because you smell amazing.

“What are you doing?” Tyrrik asked. I yelped and threw the skin in the air. The liquid, still water, spilled over the rocks. Face burning, I scurried to pick the water skin up, taking my time re-corking it before turning back toward the Drae. “Umm . . . Making nectar?” I squeaked. The silence behind me was suspicious. Had he fallen asleep again? I glanced over my shoulder to find Tyrrik wide awake, his expression smooth like when we were in the Quota Fields. Except his lip twitched and his eyes were watering. “Are you okay?” I asked, crossing to him. Was he going delirious? Was that even possible? “Fine,” he wheezed, and his hand twitched.

“We expected you a day ago. We were waiting farther east, but the scouts here rode to Kamoi when they saw two Drae plummeting from the sky.” “That was us,” I said with a nod. He rolled his eyes. “I gathered.

I rested my hand on Tyrrik’s chest, assuring myself he was alive. “Yes. It took everything I had to heal him.” Kamoi froze, and the other Phaetyn turned toward me with their mouths agape. After a beat of silence, Kamoi asked, “You healed the Drae of a Phaetyn wound?” When I nodded, he asked, “How?” I cleared my throat, tucking my silver hair behind my ear. I wasn’t admitting I’d kiss the Drae. “Oh, bit of this, bit of that.”

escort Ryn into the heart of Zivost. Your party can join us in a few days.” Dyter began to nod, but I interrupted. “Nope. I’ll be staying with Tyrrik until he’s healed. He needs another Drae here to help make this nectar stuff.” I shook my head at their inquiring glances. “I can’t leave him. Either Dyter, Tyrrik, and I all come in, or we all stay out.” There was no way I’d enter that forest without Dyter and Tyrrik around. As much as Kamoi was hotness incarnate, Mum would’ve skinned me alive to hear I’d gone off with some boy alone.