Serenna’s eyes snapped open.
A door had slammed somewhere in the Aerie’s lower level. Curled up on a plush sofa in Lykor’s sitting room, she turned over, dismissing the commotion.
Long before the sun had faded from the sky, Serenna had been quickly lulled to sleep by the soft hum emanating from the voids set at intervals along the walls. Fenn had explained the vents in excruciating detail. Warm air pleasantly toasted the chamber, collected by a maze of pipes that distributed heat from a fiery lake in the volcano’s heart.
Cringing, Serenna scratched her shoulder under her crusty leathers, somewhat regretting that she hadn’t hunted down the bathing chambers and a bed on the uppermost floor. All she’d accomplished before sleep had claimed her was gobbling down what Fenn had called “grotto stew.”
Serenna hadn’t dared to ask what was in it, but unfortunately received an answer while her guard ensured she was stuffed twice over. The proclaimed “staple of every meal” contained anything from morels to lichens to some creature she suspected had too many legs. Serenna would never admit it, but she’d been so famished that she wouldn’t have complained if Fenn had prepared and peppered that scorpion dangling from his waist and plopped it on the table.
Despite the extinguished torches and her now-faded mushroom, the frosty stars and the moons slipped in enough light through the windows to see. More than half of the circular chamber was glass, unfolding to the horizon and sky. Tapestries depicting strange winged beings—druids, according to Fenn—adorned the smooth black marble walls. The foreign furnishings could’ve been crafted from living wood, like roots twisted in on themselves to form tables, chairs, and shelves.
Heavy footsteps clanged against the iron staircase that wound up the center of the tower. Serenna doubted the stomping was from one of Fenn’s willowy sisters. He had assigned two of them as her nightly sentinels before sauntering to the Lagoon to unwind.
Startling, Serenna concluded the pounding boots most likely belonged to her captor. Her eyes flew to the entryway as the door opened.
Lykor emerged, stalking past Fenn’s sisters in the hallway before flicking the door shut with a pulse of force. He was wrapped in a fur-lined cloak and still shrouded in a dark mood—if that permanent ridge between his brows was any sign. He crossed through the sitting room, halting to loom above her.
Curtly motioning to the snow-engulfed balcony, Lykor ordered, “Get outside.”
“What?” Rubbing sleep out of her eyes, Serenna sat up and scowled at the rude awakening. “Why?”
Instead of answering, Lykor seized her arm, hauling her to her feet.
“I’m getting tired of everyone dragging me everywhere,” Serenna seethed, pointlessly struggling against him as he ignored her.
Not giving Serenna the option of putting on her boots, Lykor lugged her across the chamber and yanked open the door. A frigid gust howled in, her hair whipped by the blizzard’s bite.
Blasting out a wave of force, Lykor cleared the snowy drifts from the terrace. The explosion of frosty powder rained down the mountainside like diamonds shattering to dust.
Lykor shoved her outside, past fanged icicles stretching down from the overhanging roof. Stolen from the sitting room’s warmth, Serenna gasped against the sharp air lacerating her lungs. She threw out her arms, stockinged feet sliding over an icy film.
Snatching one of her wheeling wrists, Lykor unlocked the manacle and stowed the restraining metal in a cloak pocket. “Replenish your Well,” he growled, breath expelling in an agitated wisp.
Before Serenna could object, the sudden impact of his presence crashed into her mind, momentarily making her forget the glacial cold. Lykor’s exhaustion and annoyance—with her—rampaged down the bridge of the bond.
Stalking to the parapet, Essence shimmered around Lykor as he planted his palms against the ledge, glaring up at the web of stars. Serenna stared at his stoic profile as he regenerated, skin even paler under the reflection of the moons. The magnitude of his magic churned with the weight of an endless ocean, one that would surely crush her if she tried to channel that amount of power.
Shivering, Serenna shrank back, wrapping her arms across her chest. She’d thought the extent of Vesryn’s Well was vast, but the Essence at the prince’s disposal was a lake compared to Lykor’s sea.
“You should save us both the trouble and infuse me with a thimbleful of your power,” Serenna snipped through her chattering teeth. “It seemed easy enough when you dragged my magic out through the bond. You wouldn’t even notice,” she railed on, joining Lykor at the ledge. “I’ve never felt anyone—”
“And how do you expect to expand your Well if you don’t do it yourself?” Lykor snarled, his irritation snapping through their link like a whip. “Maybe if you had to fight for your survival, you’d be able to hold more Essence than a fucking spoon.”
Serenna’s teeth clicked shut, barricading any retort as her frozen muscles convulsed. Pinching her lips, she turned her back, gazing out across the frozen expanse.
Something heavy crashed onto her shoulders. Stumbling forward, Serenna caught herself on the balcony’s icy balustrade. Stunned by bewilderment, she drew Lykor’s fur-lined cloak under her chin, stomach turning over from the lingering heat. She risked a glance at her captor, wondering if Aesar had anything to do with her comfort.
“Will you fucking regenerate?” Lykor’s patience cracked like ice, the frigid breeze thrashing his unbound hair. “Dawn is approaching.”
The mist from Serenna’s annoyed huff coiled above her head. Conceding, she acknowledged that the only way to return indoors was to comply. Letting her awareness drift to the galaxies, a foreign array of constellations winked down on their mountainous perch.
Serenna searched for the blue spiral galaxy that Vesryn had pointed out weeks ago, claiming it was the Aelfyn homeworld. Unable to locate that particular celestial light, Serenna focused on the unfamiliar blanket of stars. A strange loneliness from the empty expanse encompassed her like the quiet light from the moons.
“I don’t see why I need to restore my magic if you’re keeping me tethered,” Serenna said, testing the waters as she fished for his intentions.
Lykor clenched his fist, the metal in his gauntlet squealing. Serenna eyed the armor in the corner of her vision, ensuring he wasn’t about to lunge for her throat. “I won’t squander any advantage—no matter how meager.” Seemingly unaffected by the freezing temperature, Lykor rolled his shoulders, the spikes on his black leathers glinting in the moonlight. “Even if your puddle of power is next to useless.”
Serenna’s cheeks reddened further, the flush rising without the aid of the breeze slapping her face. “So you’re simply going to snatch my magic for yourself whenever it suits you?” A new thought wandered through the darkness of night as she curled Lykor’s cloak further under her chin. “Why don’t you just take my elemental power while you’re at it?”
“I can’t use that magic. Those abilities are bound to your human blood.” He grunted an unamused noise, eyes fixed on the jagged horizon. “But would that I could, and I’d free myself from this shackle to you.”
You’d be doing us both a favor, Serenna nearly told him, rubbing her bare wrist. Her heart screeched to a halt and then rallied into a gallop.
I’m untethered. Does Vesryn sense me? Frantic and desperate, Serenna launched her awareness down the dim silver cord. The prince was somewhere to the east, half the world away. If he realizes where I am, he can come get me!
Serenna’s breath snagged at the sudden realization. I can’t have Vesryn travel here—the coercion would force Lykor to kill him. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes, freezing to her lashes. Rapidly blinking, Serenna battled the emotions swirling in her chest.
I’m on my own then. How am I going to get out of this? Serenna swallowed her despair, now hoping Vesryn was asleep and didn’t notice her abrupt appearance. Another noxious notion rooted like a weed. And I hope that flame-haired vixen isn’t in his bed. He owes me an explanation.
Serenna hurried to enter a shallow meditative state, somehow replenishing her power with Lykor breathing down her neck. She shoved her wrist at him, anxious to block her location from the prince.
Lykor’s eyes suspiciously probed hers. A shard of fear lodged in Serenna’s spine—she appeared too compliant. And now he’d probably detected her panic through the bond. Drawing her arm back, she searched for a diversion.
Serenna sensed the agony in the burn she’d given him, even more agitated by his armor. “Will you allow me to mend you yet?” She cleared her throat, hoping that Lykor would interpret the offer as the source of her unease. “It’ll be easier to heal your palm before an infection sets in.”
Lykor’s lip curled around his fangs. His shoulders twitched, a horse irritably dislodging a fly. Muttering under his breath, he removed his gauntlet.
Serenna shoved her shock away, thinking better about making a comment. Her fingers trembled as she hesitantly cupped his claw, the frosty air nearly crystalizing her bones. She flinched when her power leaped in response, slithering through her veins.
