“Will it,” Lykor snapped, the bond nearly erupting with his impatience. He crossed his arms, the spikes on his shoulders glinting in the shield’s light. “If you keep fucking around, we’ll find out how fast Aesar can intervene when I start draining your talents.”
Stomach coiling with dread, Serenna shied away from the confinement awaiting her. She hauled on her power, wanting to deny that accepting the bond was this effortless. Her magic swirled, streaking toward Lykor, lashing him with cosmic light.
They both seized as the Essence fossilized between them, solidifying the nexus that linked their Wells. Air evacuated in a rush from Serenna’s lungs, swept away by the tide of Lykor’s presence crashing into her mind. Their auras twined, braiding together until the beginning and ending of each strand was lost.
The bond’s threads solidified between them, strengthening into a bridge of steel, connecting their power. Unrelenting like a metal chain of links.
Binding them completely.
CHAPTER 25
LYKOR
Lykor snatched the girl’s arm. Repulsed beyond all belief for solidifying the connection, he burrowed his awareness through the bond. The elf’s Well was as much his now, their power linked like an inlet connecting two bays.
Sliding over the nexus to access her magic, Lykor exploited Aesar’s knowledge. He rummaged through her abilities, hunting for illumination—another talent he’d witlessly bestowed upon Kal. Sparking the girl’s side of their Well, he hauled the ability to the surface, snapping it into place.
“What are you doing?” the elf asked, tensing under his grip. Attempting to pull away, her despair morphed into alarm through the bond.
Lykor’s fingers tightened around her arm, gut heaving in unease that his power so effortlessly merged with hers. Exposing him. If she possessed a morsel of knowledge, she’d be able to tap into his magic as freely as he accessed hers.
Lykor ignited four orbs of light in the debris-strewn room, casting shadows on the walls.
The elf’s shock crashed against him. “How did you manifest my ability?”
Lykor ignored her, intending to withhold any information related to their connection. He wrenched the entire source of the elf’s magic toward himself like an approaching hurricane sucking a shoreline’s water out to sea. Compared to the amount of Essence he was capable of holding, her Well of power was a fucking puddle.
The elf gasped as a burst of light erupted from her chest, shimmering around them before rushing into his. From Aesar’s recollection, the sudden tapping of Essence was an unpleasant experience of feeling wrung and wicked out. Lykor released her arm after absorbing her magical stores, doubting that the minuscule crumbs would be enough to escape from this tomb.
Still fuming about Lykor’s decision, Aesar appeared, pacing the library’s atrium. This could’ve been avoided if you’d learn to regenerate before nearly depleting our power, he all but scolded. His heeled boots struck the marble in their shared mindspace, clipping furiously. Why didn’t you have her excavate the rubble instead of completing the bond to pilfer her magic?
Lykor scoffed. Permitting her access to his mind wasn’t an option. He had no intention of depending on this half-elf grunt to deliver them from the wreckage.
Aesar began to chastise him further, but Lykor sensed the girl moving and ripped his attention back to the dungeon.
The girl drove her palms into his chest in an attempt to shove him. “You can’t steal my magic!”
Igniting a glittering stream of Essence, Lykor bent the power to refortify the shield. He pushed her away along with her protest. “I can take whatever I want.” Retrieving the manacle, he wrestled with her flailing limb to retether her, nearly sighing in relief when her presence vanished from his head.
She balled her hands into fists, looking like she was about to swing one at his face. “Why did you force me to bond if you hate me so much?”
“Since you’ve failed to manifest illumination on your own,” Lykor dismissively snapped, harnessing Aesar’s chiding tone of offering an explanation, “a fully formed connection was the only way to access your power.” He sneered. “And since they clearly teach you nothing at that floating island, I’ll enlighten you that the bond doesn’t have anything to do with feelings.”
She glowered, curling her arms around her waist.
Why bother keeping her tethered if you drained her Well? Aesar asked, roaming the library, appearing to contemplate which aisle of bookcases to wander through.
I’M ALREADY FETTERED TO ONE UNWANTED PRESENCE. AT LEAST I CAN STIFLE THE CONNECTION WITH HER. Lykor rolled his shoulders, the attempt at relaxing his spine doing nothing to ease the brain-splitting headache pounding in his skull.
Striding to where the hallway used to be, Lykor inspected the fallen stone barricading them in the collapsed brig, hoping the damage to the rest of the keep was minimal. Their fortress had never quaked before, the volcano centuries extinct.
Lykor extended tendrils of Essence through the rockwork, avoiding the gold-threaded stones. Twisting his magic down the corridor, he analyzed how the ceiling had crumbled, determining the most efficient way to use his limited supply of power to burrow out.
Their predicament would turn dire if he couldn’t unearth them before his Well depleted or the shield deteriorated. Lykor plucked a stone from the rubble and flung the rock behind him. He’d resort to manually clearing the debris until he reached the point in the hallway that hadn’t collapsed.
Aesar meandered through the shelves in his library. Perhaps the girl could use her shaman powers to help.
Lykor rolled his eyes. YOUR CONFIDENCE IN HER ABILITIES IS CONCERNING.
Then I guess we’ll suffocate if you can’t get us out of here, Aesar muttered, extracting a tome from the meticulously filed books.
THAT’S THE PREFERABLE OPTION IF I’M DESTINED TO ENDURE YOUR ETERNAL,INSUFFERABLE COMMENTARY. Lykor cracked his neck, ignoring the throbbing in his burned palm as he continued to work.
“I want to talk to Aesar,” the girl demanded behind him.
Having half-forgotten about the elf, Lykor pivoted toward her. The audacity of this girl. And yet another person preferring Aesar—and she hadn’t even spoken to him.
You could be more approachable if you tried, Aesar grumbled, leafing through the book. You’re the one who won’t let anyone get close.
FUCK OFF.
Lykor might’ve let that slip out loud, judging from the way the elf’s eyes flashed in the whirling illumination.
Placing her hands on her hips, she said “Is Aesar also—”
Lykor stalked toward her, cutting her off. She scrambled away until her back collided with the rubble.
“I don’t think you understand how this works,” he snarled, leaning into her face. “You do not make demands of me. If I so much as hear a whisper of a command, I will sever your fucking tongue.” He would do it too, if it brought him a moment of peace.
Aesar slammed the book shut, the crack echoing in Lykor’s skull. You could try.
The girl’s nostrils flared. Her cerulean eyes iced over, but she didn’t lower her gaze. Lykor smirked, nearly amused by her stubbornness. That academy should be thanking him for removing this elven brat from their ranks.
Lykor pivoted back to the exit. He continued excavating the gold-laced stones one at a time. The blister from the burn she’d inflicted on him had ripped open, oozing all over the rocks. Suffering through the pain, Lykor gritted his fangs. Discomfort was nothing to him anymore.
“Get over here and do something useful,” he barked over his shoulder.
The elf pursed her lips but complied. “What are you going to do with me?” she asked, picking up stones and tossing them behind her. “Just use my magic as your spare Well?”
“Don’t flatter yourself. I piss more than your thimbleful of power.” Lykor readied a scathing threat, detailing how he could remove her vocal cords and braid them through her flapping mouth if she didn’t silence herself, but Aesar confined his words.
Let me talk to her. Aesar squared himself in the library’s atrium, apparently ready to bicker over something so trivial. I’ll explain everything. Since you won’t.
Shoulders sagging, Lykor blew out a breath before resting his head against the cool stone wall. If only he could take strength from the rocks.
He was going to die here. He’d survived an eternity of torture, had his magic ripped away over and over, but he was going to die in this vile crypt with an intolerable elf and Aesar’s endless prattling for company. It was a wonder Kal hadn’t begun talking to him telepathically. All three of them would make a perfect fucking clan, combining their efforts to wear him down like water eroding stone.
Not possessing the will to prevent Aesar from taking over, Lykor slackened his hold on their body. He hadn’t disappeared or faded into nothingness—like he’d feared would happen—when he’d relinquished control before.
