Serenna irritably huffed but humored him with the bare minimum of compliance, making a show of washing out her wounds in the sink. Pursing her lips to conceal a wince from the stings, she toweled off and pointed at the filled tub.

Fenn obediently shuffled over, sucking in a sharp breath as he unclasped his armor’s buckles and straps. The spiked leather tunic dropped to the ground in a clatter. Unable to fully lift his arms, Fenn swore, struggling to peel off his loose undershirt.

I’ll never get that leviathan up if he crashes to the floor. Serenna rushed to him. “Here, let me help.” Before Fenn could irreparably entangle himself in his braids and clothes, she guided him to the marble ledge of the bath.

He grimaced, lowering to sit. As gently as she could, Serenna rolled the fabric over his head, exposing lean muscles bisected with countless scars. Glittering rings—pierced into his nipples of all places—drew her attention straight to his chest like a crow transfixed by a shiny coin.

Fingers tightening around his shed shirt, Serenna ripped her gaze away from his carved flesh to assess his wounds. Worry began to crowd back into her thoughts. A collage of wicked bruises bloomed even darker than his skin, black veins distending and branching out like an infected web.

At the sight of the vicious damage, Serenna’s stomach lurched, his injuries more severe than she’d anticipated. He needs to be mended.

“File my fangs,” Fenn hissed, betraying his pain as he shifted on the tub. “I think they shattered a few ribs.”

Serenna swallowed back that he’d stated the obvious. “Let’s get your nose cleaned up first.” She tossed his shirt beside him. “I think I can set it. At least, I’ve done it with Essence. Your ribs…” Serenna’s words slipped along with her traitorous eyes.

This would be easier with magic. She studied the iron key swinging from its chain on Fenn’s bare chest, gears whirling in her mind. As far as she knew, Lykor had left that morning and wasn’t anywhere in the keep. If she could convince Fenn to unlock her shackle under the guise of healing, it might not be catastrophic if the prince appeared. Unless Vesryn rended Fenn on sight.

“She-elf, my nose is up here.”

Serenna yanked her gaze back up to a smirking Fenn and blabbered a response. “I was thinking about what to do for your ribs. You’ll have to instruct me on how to bind them.” She cleared her throat, her voice coming out embarrassingly hoarse. “You know…" Serenna trailed off, kneeling beside Fenn to reach over the tub. “I could mend you if you’d untether me.” She concentrated on wringing out a cloth, trying her best to look indifferent before glancing up to read his response.

Claw locked around the key, Fenn’s reply sounded automatic. “Lykor doesn’t want you using your elf magics.”

Serenna’s correction was a little too defensive. “No, Lykor said he doesn’t want to sense me in his head.” She aggressively wrung out the towel with an unnecessary twist. “He’s been having you encourage me to use my elemental power, so it’s not about magic.” Serenna probed the boundary, wondering how far she could push him, hoping his current state would make him easier to prod. “It would only be for a moment—Lykor might not even perceive me if he’s in that remote jungle. You’re hurt and most likely bleeding inside.” Leaning forward, she rested a hand on his leg. “I could—”

Fenn tensed, grabbing her fingers. “Please do not ask of me what I cannot give, she-elf.”

Serenna opened her mouth to argue, but the regret weighing in Fenn’s eye cut her short. He gave her a squeeze as she tugged out of his grip.

Serenna rose to her feet, hope falling along with her heart. If saving himself from pain isn’t enough of a reason to remove my tether, what is?

As gently as she could, Serenna wiped the dried blood from Fenn’s face. “When do you think the reavers will retaliate after…what happened today?”

“That depends on how long they fight among themselves to choose another leader.” Fenn winced as she cleaned his split lip, working around his piercings. “But I’m sure they’ll think twice about crossing you again.”

His words were a crutch for a confidence Serenna had never quite developed in her abilities before. Heart lodged in her throat, her words came out as a whisper. “I would kill Larek again.” She nearly questioned her lack of guilt. “If I didn’t agree to use my power how he wanted, the reavers would’ve tortured you.”

“Thanks to you, I only wound up with a broken nose and a few cracked ribs instead of being burned to a crisp.” Fenn popped his knuckles. Serenna grabbed his wrist with an exasperated sigh when the motion ripped open his scabs. His mouth twitched as Serenna wiped the fresh blood off his hands. “Do you think our difference in height will be an issue?”

Serenna leaned over the tub to rinse the rag, the black blood swirling in the water like dumped ink. “That’s why you’re sitting—so I can reach you.”

Checking if his pupil had blown wide, Serenna peered into his good eye. If Fenn couldn’t remember why she had him perched, it was possible the reavers had rattled his skull more than she thought.

“No,” Fenn chuckled. “I mean when I bed you.”

Startled, Serenna blinked. The cloth slipped through her numb fingers, plopping into the water. He’d never been so blatant before, beyond inviting her to the Lagoon. Her surprise must’ve been the reaction he wanted, because Fenn burst into laughter and then swore through his teeth, grabbing his ribs.

It served him right. Serenna sniffed, wiping her hands on her leathers.

“I’ve gathered from the elders,” Fenn gritted out with a wheeze, “that elven-kind aren’t shy.” He struggled to straighten. “And because for some unfathomable reason you have no interest in Lykor…” he faltered when Serenna scoffed. “Well, since you say he’s failed to make a claim on you, I have a hundred different ways I’d like to show my appreciation.”

Fenn frowned, as if considering how effective his battered body would be at following through with those boasts. Or he could’ve been counting out each imagined pleasure—Serenna couldn’t tell.

In either case, her cheeks burned. The offer both thrilled and abhorrently enticed her as his insinuation steered her thoughts down an inappropriately curious path. Serenna’s mind conjured countless assumptions of just how thorough Fenn could be. If the frequent fanged marks of passion on his neck were any sign, he had to be true to his word.

It sounds like he dallies with anyone who blinks at him. I shouldn’t feel special just because he’s showing interest. He obviously had no shortage of partners and she wasn’t inclined to be added to that list.

Skin feeling unusually tight, embarrassment won out. Serenna snipped a response, her time with this wraith influencing her to be crass. “You must have a high opinion of yourself, Lieutenant, if you think your member is magical enough to cancel out a life debt.”

“You’re right,” Fenn said, his voice pitched low with implication, tongue suggestively circling along the point of a fang. “In that case, I’d owe you multiple joinings.”

Serenna’s nostrils flared, beyond irritated that a flush of heat sparked between her thighs. I just like the attention he’s giving me. That was completely normal. Something about him was straightforward. Easy. And it wasn’t like she had anyone else to interact with.

Rising to her feet, Serenna pointedly herded her gaze away from his bare chest. “That’s…unnecessary.”

Hoping Fenn’s one good eye didn’t catch the flush racing to her ears, she rinsed the remaining cuts on his face. Serenna’s attention kept flitting to her tether’s key. But if he’s offering… A sourness pooled in her gut as she considered exploiting his interest to snatch the iron freedom away from his neck. A tiny, nasty voice in her head asked why she should care if she used him.

Even if he was only around because she was his assigned duty, he was the closest thing she had to a friend among the wraith. Serenna couldn’t justify such a deception, especially to someone so kind and thoughtful. He always made it a point to bring her a blend of his mother’s tea in the mornings. And more than once, he’d taken her to see those comical miniature goats.

Sleet pattered against the windows, filling the silence. Serenna’s heart tripped over a beat when Fenn captured her hand.

His voice was somber as he searched her face. “I failed to protect you today.” He skimmed his talons up her arm, skating around the trenches left by Larek’s claws. “And because of that, you were hurt.” Fenn’s brow furrowed, tearing open another scab. “If I had magics like you, maybe…” he shook his head.

Fenn doesn’t shy away from power like the other wraith. Serenna stared at his claw gently circling her fingers, considering if one talent would’ve made a difference. Even against so many, he might’ve warded off the brutal beating.

“You were in danger again on my watch,” Fenn said, drawing back and setting his trembling fists in his lap. “I’ll have to inform Lykor that I’m not fit to be your guard.”

“That’s not true.” Serenna cupped his cheek, wiping away the fresh streak of blood from his temple. “You should keep those thoughts to yourself.”

Fenn’s unswollen eye whipped to hers. “I have to report this. I—”

“I know Lykor needs to hear what happened,” Serenna gently interrupted. “My actions might’ve worsened the tension between the elders and the reavers. But Larek initiated it.” Anger flared like the fires that had incinerated Larek’s bones. “You didn’t run or balk. You met them head on—outnumbered.” A realization doused the flash of fury. “You could’ve died putting yourself in harm’s way. You could’ve let the reavers have me instead.”

Fenn averted his gaze to stare out the icy window. “That never crossed my mind.”

Something gentle in Serenna’s heart fluttered, but she caged it, clipping its wings. Instead, her mind anxiously darted around the idea of Fenn not being the one assigned as her guard. Her captivity could be much worse. The thought of being locked alone in the Aerie until Lykor had a use for her wasn’t comforting.

“You’re the only one who actually talks to me,” Serenna said, cleaning a gash on Fenn’s collarbone. “When you station your sisters here, they just stare at me. The other wraith in your clan hardly acknowledge me. And let’s not forget to mention how Lykor has fewer conversational skills than Aiko—not that he makes a habit of being in the same room as me. Please don’t have someone else assigned—”

Fenn winced. Serenna realized she’d abandoned the cloth to grab his face in her escalating, frantic tirade. She hurriedly dropped her hands. Pulse hammering her ears, she couldn’t—wouldn’t—identify what occupied the space between them aside from the awkward silence.

As if summoned, Aiko broke the tension, soaring into the chambers with a chattering mewl. Serenna pursed her lips when the dainty vulpintera landed at Fenn’s feet in a flurry of flapping leathery wings. Prancing on her paws, Aiko rubbed against his boots.

Serenna scowled at the vulpintera. “That furry bat never gets excited to see me. And I’m here more than Lykor.”

Fenn clutched his ribs, leaning forward to scratch Aiko’s fuzzy ears. “She knows who has a better touch.” His widening grin had Serenna yanking her mind’s improper imagination straight.

After receiving what Serenna deemed was an excessive amount of attention, Aiko curled up in front of a vent with a contented purr. Tail coiling in front of her fox-like face, she squinted at Serenna over her fur.