Page 73 of Shadow Wings
I opened myeyes.
Tyrrik stood just outside the rocky overhang. He’d lost weight. The nectar had been enough to keep him alive but not enough to satisfy the demands of a man’s body. Stubble covered the bottom half of his face. His silky hair was disheveled as though he’d run his hands through the tangle many times. He was wearing one of Dyter’s aketons but no trousers or shoes. The Drae’s broad shoulders and direct look made his bearing just as threatening asever.
I doubted he was even aware ofthat.
Tyrrik’s face though—the slight rounding of his eyes, the fleeting way he searched my expression, and the heavy silence with which he watched me . . . Could he be as out of his depth as Ifelt?
I swallowed and got to my feet. “How do youfeel?”
His gaze didn’t shift from my face as he stepped into the cave. “As though I’ve been an inch from death for several days.” He gestured to the forest outside. “Dyter has gone to hunt and collect morewater.”
Dyter’s timing was as convenient as the dead queen’s illness. Curse him for leaving me alone with Tyrrik. The old bugger probably felt he was doing me afavor.
“How long will it take for you to heal?” I asked, walking around the rocky space. I was at a loss for how to busy myself so looking at him wasn’tmandatory.
“A few days,” he said. “I should’ve been well healed bynow.”
“They were draining you. Dyter and I didn’t know,” I said, hating that I’d failed him. I stopped my pacing and met his eyes. “I’m sorry, Tyrrik. I let youdown.”
He shrugged. “You’re not to blame for the Phaetyn’s actions. I could hear what was going on; I just couldn’trespond.”
My heart flipped, and I frantically tried to remember what I’d said to Dyter while we were in Zivost. “What did youhear?”
He got to his feet, and I resumed my slow pacing to ensure there was a good distance betweenus.
“I heard you threaten the guards and theirfamilies.”
I nodded.I did that. That wasn’t sobad.
“I heard you and Dyter discussing whether you should wear a dress for the gathering,” he said, his eyes turning ink black as his gaze roved myframe.
My heart flipped again. The corset and wispy skirt had seen better days by this stage. My silver hair was a tangled mess. My feet were dirty, I had grime smeared on my face, and I was splattered with Phaetynblood.
Tyrrik didn’t seem to mind. Where I’d been gratified for Kamoi’s attention, Tyrrik’s appraisal of the outfit—the way his eyes lingered on my breasts, the way he stared at the skirt as though hoping it would burn away—thatmade me feel something else entirely. A foreign heat coiled deep in my stomach. My breathing quickened as a strange heaviness settled in my chest like a magnet, pulling me toward the Drae. The rocky space felt far too small to contain what was possible betweenus.
“I heard you asking Dyter why sometimes my scales seemed blue,” he whispered, taking a step towardme.
Shivers broke over me, and I felt the eruption of scales on my forearms. I squeezed my eyes shut as the Drae continued to draw closer in the same way, I supposed, he’d always moved, a predatory stalk. “I. . .”
The heaviness of wanting eased as his warm breath brushed the top of my cheekbone. He stood in front of me and said, “I heard you tell Dyter I hurt you, that I broke yourheart.”
Tyrrik brushed the area over my heart with the back of his hand, and my eyes flew open. I lifted my gaze from the base of his neck, over the sculpted plains of his face, to his midnighteyes.
“You al-already knew that,” I said, my voice trembling. My fear was not of him, or rather not that he would hurt me physically. But of the magnitude of what lay between us, past and present; fear of whatcouldlay between us . . . if I letit.
He nodded and turned his hand so his palm rested on my skin. “I did,” he said. “But I don’t know how to fix it. I don’t know if it is possible for you to feel for me again. To feel for me what you felt so strongly forTyr.”
Yet, wasn’t he Tyr? Wasn’t Tyr’s gentleness and protectiveness somewhere inside this Drae? And Ty, my friend who made me smile, my confidant, wasn’t he in there somewhere, too? Or were Tyr and Ty merely personas he’d assumed to manipulate me? My voice wasn’t the only thing shaking now, but I couldn’t control my trembling as I asked, gaze dropping to the base of his throat again. “Do youreallywant to fix myheart?”
The question was uttered in a voice so low I was surprised he made itout.
“Yes,” he said. He swept his hand to the top of my shoulder and then up the side of myneck.
I sighed, leaning into the warmth, and did not resist as the Drae tilted my chin so I was forced to meet his eyes once more. Fire spread through my body at his touch; the burning awareness I’d felt from the first time our skin had touched was rampant and unchecked. My lips parted as I stared up at him, and I sighed. “Why?” I whispered, my words breathy, “Why do you want to heal myheart?”
He searched my eyes for an eternity that was likely only a few seconds, but time lost meaning and measure with him soclose.
“Because,” Tyrrik said, the pulse in his throat feathering as he stroked my skin. “You are mymate.”