“If you haven’t noticed, we’re stuck in a gold-woven prison. I can’t portal through.” A sneer bracketed his fangs. “Unless you manage to spontaneously manifest illumination and provide me with what’s left in your Well, you’ll accept the bond.” Lykor’s shoulders twitched, spine popping. “This is not a request.”
How does he know I don’t have access to that talent yet? Concealing the flash of panic locking her knees, Serenna battled Lykor’s scowl with her own while her mind raced.
What happens if we accept it? A sinking feeling settled in her stomach. Lykor would likely possess even more control over her magic than the prince had exploited during their training. Bonds go both ways, but I know nothing about them.
Unable to submit to Lykor’s unnerving preternatural stillness, Serenna broke first. “And if I refuse?”
“Your insolence will not be the death of me,” Lykor snarled, the unnatural heat from his claw nearly scalding her arm. Serenna shifted her feet, finding some place to anchor her fear while he raged. “I’ll obtain your power one way or another. I won’t hesitate to drain your remaining talents until you’re a wraith.” A vein thrashed in Lykor’s forehead as he glared at her with fire in his eyes. “Half don’t survive the transformation if you wish to gamble with your life.”
The crushing silence of the dungeon became too loud. Terror drummed in Serenna’s chest while she frantically tried to think of an alternative to either option. If he turns me into a wraith and I live, my magic will be gone. Would that cause the bond to break with the prince? If so, I’ll be stuck here forever.
Serenna’s nails dug into her palms. She hesitantly acknowledged that she’d rather bond to someone like Lykor instead of experiencing the agony of losing more talents. Surely he wouldn’t kill her once they were fully bonded.
“I’m going to untether you and you will accept the bond.” Lykor jerked her wrist. “If you try anything with your power, or if you reject this abominable connection…” Eyes glazing over, Lykor muttered under his breath, arguing with himself again. His focus pinned back on her. “We’ll see if Aesar can stop me. I assure you, his control doesn’t extend as far as he believes.”
Thoughts circling around explanations, Serenna blinked up at Lykor. “You—you’re really the prince?”
“Don’t worry, he’ll be more than fucking happy to explain.” Lykor dug the key from his trouser pocket and unlocked the tether, finally releasing her.
Serenna flinched when the metal dropped, clanging against the stone. Lykor’s awareness invaded her mind, his presence overwhelming—a malignant mass of shadows coiling around a bottomless pit of anger and hatred.
But there was someone else behind his eyes, obscured and hazy like she was peering through frosted glass. If my bond is somehow connected to Aesar too… Serenna bit the inside of her cheek, uncertainty dwindling her resolve to resist. I need to stay alive long enough to find out more.
Recoiling from the bond with Lykor, Serenna thought about the one she wanted instead. The connection to the prince was a faint thread, barely there compared to the beacon blazing in her mind. Vesryn won’t be able to portal to me in these dungeons, but could he get close?
Before Serenna could consider the possibility of the prince appearing, dazzling silver lights suddenly sprang from Lykor. The magic arched to settle on her like hundreds of shooting stars spiraling across the sky.
Serenna’s disbelief ignited alongside Lykor’s power, the collapsed chambers pulsing with light from the radiant glow. She recognized the magic—the same that Vesryn had spun while half-delirious, wounded by the wraith’s arrows.
“No,” Serenna whispered, covering her mouth. Vesryn tried to complete the bond with me. She squeezed her eyes shut, swallowing a sick feeling burning in her throat. I didn’t even know.
Lykor’s irritation roiled through their connection, wrenching her mind back to the dungeon. “Stop being so fucking dramatic and accept the bond.”
“I don’t want to be bonded to you,” Serenna choked out, eyes welling up. Overwhelmed by dread and a strange sorrow, she brushed away falling tears.
“Are you ready to die then?” Lykor snarled, stooping in her face. “Do you think I want to be shackled any more than you do with this stars-cursed chain of fate? You don’t see me weeping about it.”
Serenna sniffed and clenched her jaw, meeting his fiery gaze. She straightened, a collision of anger and fear steeling her spine. Attempting to stall for more unfettered moments so that the prince could locate her, Serenna hardened her resolve and asked, “What—what do I do?”
“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.
