Page 92 of Black Crown

Tyrrik.

The detail in her recount made me wonder. “You were old enough to remember all that?”

She nodded.

“I was sixteen when we were taken, one of the oldest.”

“My mother’s family name really was Ry? I’d wondered if she just made it up after her escape.”

“It was your grandmother’s pre-mated name. Ryhl reverted back to it once she was captured.”

“What was it before?” I asked, curious.

The scarred Drae looked up at Draesi, who shrugged her shoulders. She stilled suddenly, peering back to the entrance. A heart beat passed before she relaxed and shook her head.

Something else was happening. “What’s—”

“We are always biding our time,” the Drae said with a hard stare and a finger to her lips.

Okay. That seemed both encouraging and terrifying considering Draedyn could hear everything in my mind. “Did you know my mother?” As I asked, I realized I still didn’t know this woman’s name. Had I been told before? I wracked my memory as she answered.

“Yes. Your mother was the third daughter in her family. She was the baby. Her parents adored her.”

I’dadored her. I closed my eyes at the sharp pain under my ribs. “How old was she when she was taken?”

“Eight. But even then she was impertinent and headstrong. She was a fighter. Not always with her words and not always overtly, but she always said she would find a way to end this. Once we got here, she befriended the Phaetyn. She was the first among us to reach out to them, to be compassionate to their imprisonment and the draining of their blood. She would sneak down to their cells and take them food. It’s no wonder the Phaetyn queen respected her so much.”

My mother’s kindness and generosity were what won the Verald peoples’ loyalty too. That her nature had always been such didn’t surprise me.

“Thank you,” I said, my heart swelling. “There were times I thought my mom wasn’t who or what she’d led me to believe. It does my heart good to know the truth from someone who knew her. I thank you.” I frowned. If I’d been introduced to her, I’d forgotten this Drae’s name. Or had she been deliberately obtuse? “What’s your name?

Her eyes filled with tears. “–Yn means defender. It was the firstborn’s right to defend the family.” She leaned forward and whispered in my ear, “My name is Ryn.”

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Iblinked several times. My tongue was thick, my mouth dry, and I struggled to formulate a coherent question as I stared at the woman sitting across from me. “Wh-what?”

“Ryhl was my youngest sister.” Ryn pulled back to look me in the eyes. “She was the one smart enough to change our names on the ride into the emperor’s realm. Our sister, Ryli, was one of the first to die in childbirth.”

This woman was my aunt? I could hardly believe it. I still had family?

A searing agony shoved at my mind, and my aunt flinched.

“Now!” Draesi yelled from the entrance.

I jumped, spinning in the pool to look for the danger, my mind fully clear for the first time since arriving in Draedyn’s house.

Ryn leaned forward and spoke in a rushed whisper, “Our family name was Bae. You are the granddaughter of the last alpha. Now, listen: that pain you just felt was Draedyn’s. You have a few seconds to act—“

As soon as she said the pain was my father’s, I knew what I needed to do. My heart and mind were on the same page. I had to call Tyrrik. My instinct was to scream out for my mate. With his help, I could shatter Draedyn’s hold on me and flee. But running wouldn’t defeat this monster, and Ineededto defeat him. For everyone I’d lost, for everyone I could lose if I didn’t.

My heart thundered, and I turned my attention inward. I could see Draedyn’s shield, but the normally solid emerald power blocking my Drae energy from my reach was fissured and cracked. Wherever he was, his rage was so consuming his loss of focus was affecting his shield, just as mine had in the Azule kingdom.

It wouldn’t last.

Ryn continued whispering hurried instructions about contacting my mate, but I knew if I did this the wrong way, Draedyn would know. And if he knew, he would outmaneuver us again. We had to be smarter, trickier—like Tyrrik was when breaking the blood oath.

I reined back my instinct to scream to Tyrrik for help with a shaking inhale and coaxed a single, thin filament, the veriest bit of my Drae power I could entice away from the rest to thread through Draedyn’s momentarily fissured shield. On impulse, as I pulled the vibrant-blue strand to me, I coated it in my moss-green Phaetyn veil, hoping my gut instinct would serve me.