“Of course he did,” Vesryn muttered nearly to himself, their mutual dislike of the general a bizarre common ground.

To prepare for the wraith’s potential return, the prince had permitted squadrons of Kyansari’s elven-blooded warriors to occupy dwellings on campus under General Elashor’s command. The capital’s presence would’ve been helpful during the assault. I’m told anyway.

Guilt carved a path through Jassyn’s chest like the flash of lightning cracking against the sky. I came here for a reason. Hauling himself away from the window, Jassyn steeled himself to face his cousin. I need to get this over with. And then I can leave and get back to my chambers where I have—

“You don’t mind, do you?” Vesryn interjected as Jassyn opened his mouth. The prince lifted his feet to balance his weight over his hands, muscles flexing in waves. “I have a hundred left before I finish my set.”

“Impressive.” Jassyn’s lip curled as he glanced sideways at the prince. Why would anyone voluntarily decimate their body like he does? “I’m surprised you can count that high. Don’t let me interrupt.”

Straying to the prince’s bookshelves, a sudden tremor loosened Jassyn’s legs, the shaking becoming more frequent and pronounced. Lurching forward, he caught himself before toppling over. After sparing a glance toward the prince as he straightened, Jassyn refocused on the books.

The last time he was here, he’d thieved a few texts concerning telepathy, not bothering to return them. He doubted Vesryn—

“You never brought my books back.”

I guess he remembered. “I haven’t finished reading them.”

Vesryn only grunted in acknowledgment as he continued his ridiculous exercises.

Pursuit of more material on coercion was at the forefront of Jassyn’s mind. Well, right behind regaining control over Essence—and the distracting fact that a sprinkle of Stardust was waiting in his chambers. Ruthlessly redirecting his thoughts, Jassyn mentally clasped onto the frail fibers of his clandestine academic interests. His research had always served as an adequate distraction before.

After he could think more clearly, Jassyn intended to uncover further information regarding the extinct elemental powers he’d stumbled upon while imprisoned in the Vallende estate. A shiver nearly unbalanced him as he imagined the worst possible punishment. What if Vesryn sends me back to the Vallendes to make an example? He wouldn’t. Would he?

Jassyn shook the horrifying thought from his head, legs less steady than ever. He forced his mind back toward his studies, hoping the diversion would be enough fortification to rebalance him.

I wonder if Serenna has sensed anything strange in the earth yet. Fynlas, Elashor’s sire and a former palace archivist who’d disappeared during a wraith attack decades ago, had traced her human lineage back to the shamans. Fynlas’ research had tracked countless elven-blooded—Jassyn included. I need to ask her soon. If the council found out the ancient magic was manifesting…

Instead of dissecting his fears further, Jassyn sutured and buried those worries before he descended into gloom. He scanned the vellum spines in front of him. Dismay nudged his brows together as he registered the texts weren’t in any logical order. For whatever reason, Vesryn had an extensive collection ranging from Aelfyn history, the biology of dracovae, Essence mastery, and…philosophy.

Jassyn scoffed. One tome was a scandalous text recounting escapades of courtiers in the human realms when the races first mingled a century ago. I’m sure that novel is the only book Vesryn would actually be interested in reading. He could only assume it contained obscene illustrations.

Jassyn tilted his head and then winced when the motion aggravated a spike of vengeance, unleashing a rampage against his skull. The racing tempo of his pulse roaring in his ears drowned out a rumble of thunder. Muscles convulsing, he silently pleaded to the stars for the painful upheavals to subside.

Inhaling a shuddering breath as he recovered, Jassyn focused back on the prince’s shelves, oddly appreciative for the distraction of Vesryn’s chaotic disarray. Does he simply shove his books in the most convenient places? With a considering frown, Jassyn pinpointed the pattern—one he should’ve immediately detected. Of course, his cousin had arranged the volumes by size and color. This is atrocious.

“I…I’ll see Serenna when I can,” Vesryn said on an exhale, lowering to the ground. “After I take some time to…collect myself.” Jassyn wondered if they’d been conversing and his mind wasn’t keeping up with the discussion. The prince pushed himself back up, seemingly unaffected by the repetitive motion. “The past few days”—he blew out another breath—“ have been trying.”

“Serenna would probably appreciate seeing you before you leave the island again,” Jassyn mentioned while perusing the shelves. Am I encouraging them to spend more time together?

After wiping his clammy palms on his leathers, Jassyn plucked out an armful of books and rearranged them by title. Or would it be better to order them by the archivist? Subject area? It would take hours, but he considered indexing them for the prince. Honestly, I could use the diversion.

The familiar action of systematically cataloging his surroundings didn’t ease Jassyn’s throbbing head, but it almost prevented him from fixating on that blue powder shimmering with infused Essence. Almost.

“The bond with her,” Vesryn grunted out, “Might be making me a little erratic since the attack.”

Since the attack? He’s been erratichis entire life. Balancing the stack of tomes on his hip, Jassyn reorganized one of the jumbled shelves. “What do you mean?”

“I just need to take a few days to get my head back on straight,” Vesryn said, blowing out a breath. “That’s all.”

Jassyn sensed he wouldn’t gather any more information concerning the prince’s intentions with Serenna. Since Jassyn’s assignment as her tutor in the human realms half a year prior, he’d become protective of her well-being. Especially once he’d realized Elashor’s ambitions concerning her bloodline.

Genuinely curious how Vesryn had spent his time since the attack, Jassyn asked, “What happened with the wraith prisoners you transported to the dungeons? Did you get—”

“I’m not discussing that,” Vesryn snapped, a sharp finality inoculating his words.

Rolling his eyes, Jassyn busied himself with filing the books onto the shelves. He’s the one who wanted to have a “conversation.” If that’s how he’s going to be, I’ll leave after I’m finished sorting these titles. Assuming he could walk back across the room without falling on his face.

“What the bleeding stars are you doing?”

Jassyn spun to face the prince, snagging the top volume in his cradled stack before it slid off his pile. Could he at least pretend to be winded? Vesryn leaned back on his heels, studying him with an unnerving intensity. An uncomfortable silence loomed like thunderheads in the space between them. Distract him so he doesn’t notice anything is amiss.

Jassyn cleared his throat. “I’m organizing your collection.” Tearing free from the prince’s gaze, he squeezed a book in at the end of a shelf. “I don’t know how you find anything—if you even read. Who arranges by size and color?”

“I know where everything is.” Vesryn raised both brows, like he thought Jassyn was the mad one. “You happen to be dismantling my bookcase.”

Hands slippery, Jassyn nearly fumbled the stack of volumes. “Well, obviously, you’ve spent no time in a library if you believe that this is the appropriate way to file your collection.”

“Fine, Magus Meticulous. Have it your way.” Vesryn toweled off and tossed the cloth to a chair. “Are you going to tell me the reason for your visit? Or are you simply here to molest my tomes?”

Scowling, Jassyn evaded the question, rummaging for something else to say. He retrieved the texts from the next shelf, spreading them across an end table, determining how many he’d have to accommodate.

“I heard the magisters are crediting the training you required of us as the reason we survived.” Mood turning bleak like the storm, Jassyn neglected acknowledging his absence during the assault. However, he believed Vesryn deserved recognition for how thoroughly he’d prepared the magus for a confrontation—not that anyone ever expected one to take place on their island.

First I’m pushing him toward Serenna, now I’m stroking his ego. Stars, something is seriously wrong with me.

Vesryn shouldered on a loose black tunic, his voice muffled before his head emerged. “Thirty percent of our recruits perished at the hands of those beasts.” He brushed away the loose hair spilling across his face. “I failed to keep Centarya safe. Neither the rangers nor I have been able to locate the wraith.”

Jassyn’s thoughts skittered around the elven wraith he’d saved, having wondered more than once where he’d portaled to. He’s still out there. Somewhere.

“There’s fewer than a hundred dracovae riders,” Jassyn said quietly, while he finished ordering the shelf. “The burden of responsibility isn’t only yours to bear. I simply wanted to tell you that you have the magus’ respect.”

Vesryn wandered to the dining table. “We’ve spent the past three days scouring the realms,” he nearly growled, pouring water from a silver pitcher. Half the liquid sloshed over the side of the glass. “We’re no closer to finding the wraith now than we were eighty years ago when they broke free from the dungeons.”

The prince clenched his jaw before draining the goblet. Jassyn jumped when Vesryn slammed the empty glass back on the table before filling another cup. Abruptly pivoting, the prince prowled in his direction before shoving the water at him.

“Am I supposed to guess why you’re here?” Vesryn demanded. “I find it hard to believe that you came all this way to compliment me.”

Jassyn’s heart battered his ribs as the prince’s gaze swept over him, calculating eyes narrowing, seeing far too much. Opting for silence, Jassyn snatched the offered glass, greedily downing the contents.

“You’re sweating more than me and I have a feeling it isn’t from your spectacular exertion of arranging my shelves.” Vesryn crossed his arms, fingers drumming. “When was the last time?”

“I—” Betrayed by his body, a renewed wave of tremors pillaged control of Jassyn’s muscles, rippling him like a sheet in the wind. He tightened his grip around the cup, his thoughts spiraling too quickly to snatch at an answer.

“You’ve consumed Stardust.” It was more of a statement than a question. Vesryn frowned before realization flickered in his gaze. “Your mind was clouded the night of the attack when I telepathically linked with you.” He released a disbelieving grunt. “I dismissed it as your typical way of shielding from me.”

Jassyn leaned back as Vesryn raided his space, scrutinizing his face. The prince shook his head, tone tightening. “Judging from all those vessels blown in your eyes, you’re getting close to hallucinating from the withdrawal.”

Locking his knees, Jassyn carefully inched away from the prince. Before losing sensation in the rest of his extremities, he placed the cup on an end table. The empty glass rattled against the ebony wood.