At the same time, Lykor’s talons snapped closed, digging into the blistered flesh. With an exasperated sigh that bordered a growl, he allowed her to pry his fingers open to inspect the ghastly wound.
Serenna ignited her power. Lykor stiffened. His magic roared to life, shadows rearing behind him, likely ready to strike if she so much as breathed in the wrong direction. Serenna rolled her eyes, weaving a ruby healing lattice around his palm.
Lykor yanked his claw out of her hands as soon as the sores smoothed back to mended skin. He released his magic well after she’d let go of hers.
Serenna speared a sarcastic thought in his direction. You’re welcome.
Get the fuck out of my mind, Lykor snarled, cramming his gauntlet back on.
Not expecting to hear his voice blasting in her head, Serenna recoiled, rapidly assembling her mental barricades. “Neither of us have telepathy. How could…” Her stomach rolled like a snowball, icing into alarm. We can communicate through the accepted bond.
Lykor snatched the manacle out of his cloak—that she was still wearing—and roughly clamped the metal back around her wrist, severing their connection. Serenna rushed indoors and retreated to the far end of the sitting room, away from Lykor and the cold.
Slamming the door shut, Lykor’s indiscernible grumble could’ve been words of gratitude. It sounded more like someone stabbed him in the gut.
Serenna shed the enormous coat, placing the furs on a couch. Pursing her lips, she nearly thanked Lykor for the cloak before deciding to not say anything to him at all. Eager to warm up with a bath and find a bed after, Serenna hurried to the staircase winding up the center of the chamber.
Before she lifted a foot to the first step, something small and dark flew down the stairs straight at her head. Serenna shrieked, tossing her arms up before stumbling backward into a sofa. She spun around as the furry mass sailed over her shoulder.
The creature landed in the middle of Lykor’s chest, vocalizing with a strange chirping mewl. The fluffy animal furiously rubbed its fox-like face under Lykor’s chin, apparently beyond excited to see him. Leathery wings flapped and rustled frantically as Lykor stroked from the nape of its neck down to its puffy black tail.
Tiny fangs similar to Lykor’s peeked out from its long snout while the rumble of its unexpected purr vibrated across the room. With a sneaking suspicion, Serenna shook her head and scoffed. “That’s a vulpintera, isn’t it?” Fenn was fooling with me!
“Aiko comes and goes as she pleases,” Lykor muttered, prying the fuzzy-eared bundle off of his chest, perching the vulpintera on his shoulder. The creature contentedly curled behind his neck like a scarf, tail draping to coil around one of his arms. Lykor dropped to a couch, his full attention on scratching Aiko’s tufted ears.
Serenna fought back a sad smile as she returned to the staircase. Even though Lykor didn’t consider himself Vesryn’s twin, they still shared a peculiar similarity when it came to their beasts.
What if I can somehow reunite the prince and Aesar? She’d withheld from informing Aesar of her bond with his brother. If Lykor had awareness of that connection, she couldn’t predict what the compulsion would force him to do.
Both anger and fear for the future warred in Serenna’s thoughts. If she could somehow unify the elven-blooded and Lykor’s exiled people… We could end this fighting before more innocent lives are lost.
Hand hovering over the banister, Serenna hesitated before ascending the stairs. “I hope there’s a way we can come to an understanding,” she said, contemplating how to navigate the precarious ridge she stood on with Lykor and cobble together some type of trust. She skimmed her fingers over the iron railing, thinking of the prince. “I know my people will also want to make the king answer for his crimes once they know the truth about the wraith.”
A spark of rage combusted in Lykor’s eyes. Serenna rushed on before he cut her off. “Now that the king has an endless supply of magic to drain from the elven-blooded, I’m not sure what will happen to the realms. Don’t we—as wraith and elven-blooded—owe it to our people to stop him?”
A sneer razored across Lykor’s face. “The wraith ‘owe’ no one.” Hand pausing midway through petting Aiko, he clenched his fist. “And the fate of your realms is of no concern to me. There isn’t room for my people in this world. Not anymore.” Lykor bit off his words like ripping meat from a bone. “We’re going where the elves can’t reach us.” Leaning his head back against the sofa, Lykor closed his eyes and dismissively waved her off like a nuisance.
Knowing that he intended to take her with him, Serenna’s despair accumulated. And the truth will disappear with me unless I find a way out.
CHAPTER 31
SERENNA
Serenna nestled further into the downy blankets, tossing a cover over her face to thwart the sunlight streaming across her eyelids. Didn’t I close the blinds? she groggily wondered, rolling away from the streak of brightness.
This bed chamber had been one of six in the rounded upper level of the Aerie, carved into the mountain’s peak. Evidently, Lykor wasn’t concerned with her poking around. Serenna had wandered into a bedroom with a tiny portal permanently opened on a windowsill—a rift she assumed could only be for Aiko. She quickly located different sleeping quarters, selecting one as far away as possible from her captor’s.
The edge of Serenna’s bed sank before something nudged her shoulder. “She-elf,” a low voice crooned.
Flooded with alarm, Serenna’s heart exploded against her ribs. Twisted in the blanket wrapped over her head, she yelped, flailing to untangle her limbs. Arms swinging to free herself, Serenna threw the covers off. She slammed her back against the headboard, meeting the gaze of the offending wraith.
“What are you doing in here?” she hissed at Fenn, yanking the sheet up to her chin.
“I feared you’d slumber all day.” He glanced out the window that he most certainly had opened.
Serenna rubbed her eyes against the blinding intervention. “That was the idea!” She scowled as he sat there, settled in more comfortably than he had any right to be on her bed.
“That’s a shame, considering you’re more radiant than the sunrise.” Pausing for what had to be a dramatic effect, the points of Fenn’s fangs flashed in a mischievous grin.
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.”
