Serenna ignored him with a pointed, disapproving sniff, disregarding the way his lofty words felt like a compliment. The last thing on her mind was encouraging any pathetic attempts at flirtation. I don’t need another problem added to my list.
Not taking offense, Fenn continued as he turned back to the mountain view. “Daylight is burning across the sky.”
“Who cares?” Serenna bundled the covers under her chin, concealing the oversized silken garment she’d found in a dresser—the closest thing to a nightgown. “This is wildly inappropriate. You can’t be in here.”
Fenn looked around the room as if searching for the meaning of the word “inappropriate,” obviously not seeing any issue with his presence. “Someone had to rouse you because it seemed you weren’t going to do it yourself. Lykor is already gone for the day and my sisters stationed below were too nervous to come near you.” He spun one of the rings in his brows. “So that left me.”
Serenna blinked, wading through the unexpectedness of the wraith now being afraid of her. Strange. I spent so much time being afraid of them.
“That doesn’t explain why I need to be woken up,” she protested.
“We’re going to the surface to excavate a lift,” Fenn explained, tapping the stack of material next to him. “I brought you some wraithling leathers that I think should fit.”
“Right. I’m a captive and yet Lykor expects me to earn my keep.” Still damp from her bath hours before, Serenna untangled her braid, knotted from sleep. “I don’t understand why your leader insists on keeping me tethered, but also requires that I use my elemental power.”
Is it truly because Lykor doesn’t want to sense me through the bond? While thinking she should feel insulted, Serenna couldn’t decipher which emotion would be appropriate. Regardless, having her magic forcefully suppressed did conveniently eliminate the risk of Vesryn showing up at an inopportune time.
The spikes on Fenn’s armor nearly grazed his cheek when he shrugged. “Lykor thinks those ancient magics might help the wraith.”
Serenna shoved a strand of midnight hair out of her face—the same shade as Fenn’s. “And why should I help?” She leaned back into the pillows. “I didn’t ask to be here.”
Fenn frowned, cocking his head. “You’re the one who portaled across the realms to be with Lykor.”
Serenna gaped before spluttering, “That is not what happened.” Well, it is, but that wasn’t my intention and Fenn doesn’t need to know that. “I don’t want to be with Lykor.”
“You’re the first to dwell in his tower,” Fenn argued, tracing the cut along his cheek. “I thought he decided to keep you here because he intended to pair with you or keep you close as a partner.”
Having enough clues to guess what Fenn was implying, Serenna’s irritation boiled over. Detesting the assumption—which had to be wraith gossip at this point—she threw a pillow at his head. “Get out!”
Deftly intercepting it, Fenn tossed the cushion back to the headboard beside her, fluffing it after he rose. His lips tightened, but he complied, silently striding to the door.
No longer distracted by the towering wraith seated next to her, an entire host of wafting aromas drew Serenna’s attention to the nightstand. Lunch, she suspected, if the intensity of the glaring light was any sign. A perspiring glass of water stood next to a tray featuring steaming breads, meats, and something that smelled earthy.
The considerate gesture smothered the indignant heat in Serenna’s chest, making her regret lashing out. She highly doubted Lykor ordered anyone to bring her breakfast in bed.
“Fenn, wait,” Serenna quickly pleaded to his retreating back. It wasn’t his fault she was upset and stuck in the Hibernal Wastes. Clearing her throat, she asked, “You…brought me something to eat?”
Turning around, Fenn’s eyes danced like flames, glowing with their own light. Returning to the nightstand, he plucked a round piece of bread from the tray. “The scorpion-tail pastries are my favorite.” Serenna wrinkled her nose even though her stomach rumbled. “You should try them.” Fenn’s sharp canines pierced the flaky loaf as he chewed with more etiquette than she expected. “I helped myself to the others from the breakfast you slept through.”
“Enjoying yourself?” Serenna muttered as he perched back on the bed. I’m surprised he hasn’t made a boast about this food being from his kill. When Fenn’s claw snaked out for another helping, Serenna snatched the remaining piece of spongy bread before he could pilfer it.
He patted her foot through the covers. “I’m simply ensuring the kitchen staff didn’t lace your meal with poison.”
Serenna froze, the pastry not making it to her mouth. She drew her legs up to her chest. “Why—why would they do that?”
“Your presence makes some of the wraith nervous.” Fenn’s humor dissolved. “Especially the reavers. They might try to subdue you. Or force you to use your magics for them.”
“But I’m tethered!” Serenna flung her shackled wrist in front of Fenn’s face, her heart skipping an unsettled beat. Aesar had mentioned there was a fierce faction of younger warriors who clashed with the elders.
“You still have earthen magics.” Fenn’s gaze flickered to the unlit sconces, almost looking curious. “I imagine by now the clans have heard how you wove the winds and blasted out the windows in the war room.”
“And what happens if you’re poisoned and they come after me?” Serenna asked, nibbling on the pastry. She almost had herself convinced that it was only grains and dough. It tasted more like the earthiness of mushrooms than anything else.
Fenn reached into the neck of his armor, drawing out a chain. An iron key dangled between them, glinting in the sunlight. “If something unforeseen occurs—hopefully not my demise—I imagine Lykor might forgive me if I need to unlock your tether.”
The bread soured in the bottom of Serenna’s gut. Of course my jailer has my freedom dangling around his throat, just out of reach. Restraining her annoyance as much as she could, Serenna gritted out, “Lykor doesn’t seem like the forgiving type.”
“Very true. But if any harm comes to you, it’ll reflect on me.” Fenn plucked a plum off the tray, somehow not scraping the flesh with his razor-sharp talons. “I’d rather take my chances with poison than risk Lykor’s ire. Especially since you’re claimed by him.”
“I do not belong to Lykor.” Serenna tore the bread in her hands before angrily chewing, biting back any further words. I don’t know why the stars connected my Well to the Falkyn twins, but this link to Lykor has been nothing but an inconvenience.
“Aesar informed my father that your magics are bound to theirs.” Fenn bounced the fruit in his palm before pocketing it. “Are you saying that you only intend on sharing this bond and not Lykor’s bed?”
Serenna coughed at the second time he’d insinuated such a thing, nearly choking on her mouthful of food. “If you’re so interested in Lykor, you’re welcome to take my place,” she snapped, pointedly dragging the tray across the table, setting it on the bed next to her when Fenn tried to snatch a sliver of meat. “If you had Essence, you could choose to bond with him. I didn’t get that option.” She snatched the glass of water from the nightstand, glaring at him as she drank. “Did Aesar fail to mention that Lykor forced me to accept the connection?”
“I’m sure Lykor had his reasons.” Fenn’s voice grew quiet. “The clans owe him everything and he’s often burdened with difficult decisions.”
Curling the blankets in her fists, Serenna blew air out of her nose as the wraith in front of her kindled her agitation. She clenched her teeth to restrain her tongue, grinding her anger down. I won’t win any arguments with a zealous soldier.
Serenna’s eyes snagged on Fenn’s canines as he opened his mouth—readying further defense for Lykor’s actions, she could only assume. Cutting off whatever excuses that he planned to voice, she spoke first. “What’s wrong with your fangs?”
Brows pinching together, Fenn straightened, drawing himself up. His response was quicker than she expected. “There’s nothing wrong with my fangs.”
“You don’t keep them extended like Lykor.” Sensing she had him on the defensive, a little triumphant thrill had Serenna picking at him further. “Are they stubby or something?” She ignored the firsthand experience of his canines flashing in her face when he’d crashed into her, shielding her from the broken glass in the war room.
Fenn glanced at her sideways before the corners of his eyes lifted with his smirk. “Oh, I assure you, my fangs are longer than Lykor’s.”
Fenn moved so fast he blurred. Swiveling across the bed, his fangs extended, suddenly flashing in front of Serenna’s eyes. Her heart launched into her throat, shoving out a startled squeak. Braced against the mattress, she leaned back, distancing herself from his sharp teeth.
“I thought you required a closer look,” Fenn said, chuckling with wry amusement, clearly entertained by pinning her against the headboard with fright. “I’d hate for you to be misinformed.”
Serenna’s stomach lurched as he lifted a dangerous talon to her foolishly exposed neck. Her entire awareness fastened to the point where his finger hovered above her flesh, prickling where the unnatural heat of his skin lingered over hers.
Serenna cleared the burst of fear clogging her throat. She intended to be sarcastic but her words came out timid. “Consider me well-informed.”
Something shifted in Fenn’s eyes, like he only now registered her alarm. “However,” he said, curling his claw into a fist before pulling away, “we deem it…improper to discuss fangs.” He rose, canines retracting with a click before busying himself with opening the remaining curtains. “At least in public,” he quipped with a wink over his shoulder.
Losing all the ground she thought she’d gained, Serenna huffed, crossing her arms, too embarrassed to voice any witty rebuttal. Females have fangs too, so I don’t know what he’s so proud of.
Drawing on a chain, the strange flat shades covering the domed glass ceiling slid back to the walls, folding closed like a fan. Serenna scowled as more sunlight splashed across her face. Blinking, she directed her glower at Fenn, but her annoyance only seemed to bounce off the spikes of his armor.
“If you show too much interest,” Fenn said, glancing at her, “you might discover some wraith all too willing to sink their fangs into that pretty elven neck of yours.”
Serenna clapped a hand under her ear, eyes drawn to the markings on Fenn’s throat that she’d mistaken for battle scars. She didn’t bother tempering the revulsion in her words, now realizing they were punctures left by teeth. “Do you drink each other’s blood like bats?”
Fenn blew out a scoff. “Don’t be disgusting.”
Profoundly curious for reasons she couldn’t explain, Serenna asked. “Why did you let someone bite you?”
