Apprehension soaked Jassyn’s leathers as he anticipated Vesryn’s interrogation and eruption. He swallowed, the acknowledgment coming out as a hoarse whisper, his voice as unsteady as his limbs. “I—I need help.”
The admission wasn’t as freeing as he’d expected since Vesryn wasted no time restraining his shoulder, jutting his chin toward a chair. A command to sit.
No going back now. Jassyn crumbled onto a couch before his knees buckled. Pulling a throw pillow to his chest, he braced himself against an overwhelming surge of guilt.
Pouring another glass of water and setting it beside him, Vesryn drilled him with pointed questions about his habits, likely determining how severe the consequences should be.
“Initially, I took enough Stardust for memory loss,” Jassyn admitted, running a hand through his curls, “but lately—”
“You’ve been blacking out?” Vesryn interjected, voice pitching high. His eyes bulged as he froze in the middle of sitting next to Jassyn on the sofa.
Gripping the armrest, Jassyn scooted to the edge when Vesryn resumed reclining, stealing most of the space. “I know it was foolish but—”
The prince interrupted him. “Stars, you’re lucky you’re not dead.” Vesryn untied the leather strap at the top of his head, shaking his hair free.
“I thought the dust would help…” Words abandoning him, Jassyn knew he had no excuse for indulging. “I only wanted to make my servitude to the Vallendes bearable. But if the wraith return…” Jassyn cleared his throat, regret killing the remaining words on his tongue.
“You don’t need to justify your reasoning to me.” Vesryn waved a hand disinterestedly, but something softened in his features. “If I would’ve intervened with your contracts sooner…” This time it was the prince who trailed off, avoiding his gaze.
Jassyn focused on lacing his quivering hands together, eyes welling with remorse. Growing somber, he gathered his decaying strength before the weight of his mistakes overwhelmed him. “I can’t stop. I’ve tried.” Chest constricting, Jassyn inhaled a stabilizing breath, a tight knot unraveling from sharing this much. “I want to—I know I need to.”
The prince’s jaw tightened before he muttered, “I would destroy every speck of Stardust if I could, having experienced how destructive it is. I don’t know why my sire permits it.” Vesryn blew out a heavy sigh. “Some part of you will always crave more, but the urge won’t be unmanageable once it’s out of your system.”
Jassyn’s relief was short-lived. Vesryn suddenly straightened, flashing his teeth. “You’ll have to find something else to fill the void so you don’t slip back into the habit.” The prince reached over to shake Jassyn’s shoulder. “Perhaps you’d like to take up sparring?” He squeezed Jassyn’s bicep. “Maybe we could spend the evenings building some muscle on this delicate frame.”
“I appreciate the offer,” Jassyn said, ripping his arm out of his cousin’s grip. “But sparring with you sounds less appealing than withdrawing from Stardust.”
But still, Vesryn was unexpectedly calm. Jassyn had anticipated aggressive retribution, considering how ruthlessly he punished recruits for the same offense.
“You’re not upset?” Jassyn ventured to ask, balancing on the cusp of surrendering his anxiety. “What about my position? Shouldn’t you be banishing me from campus?” He swallowed. “Or—or worse?”
“If I continue to exile everyone who fucked up, the island would be empty.” Vesryn threaded his fingers through his hair, retying the strands into a topknot. “If that were the case, I wouldn’t even be here.”
Unable to forgive himself, Jassyn felt like arguing simply for the sake of it, knowing his actions didn’t deserve to be brushed aside so casually. Had he been in control of his abilities he could’ve made a difference, even if it was saving the life of just one initiate. “I don’t know how many died because I wasn’t able to mend them.”
The prince’s fingers drummed on the armrest. He stared out the window, watching the rain patter against the glass.
“Those deaths are on me,” Vesryn said quietly.
“That’s not true.” Jassyn frowned. “You’ve spent nearly every waking moment hunting the wraith and—”
“And it hasn’t been enough,” Vesryn snarled. “If Serenna…” He buried his face in his hands, voice stifled with distress. “She almost died.”
“But she didn’t.” Jassyn resisted the unnatural urge to reach out and comfort his cousin. “You can hardly blame yourself for the wraith attacking us. They’ve been harassing our realm for decades.” Folding his arms, Jassyn fought to keep the jagged edge from his tone. “I don’t know why we’re even arguing about this.”
“You’re right,” Vesryn said, uncovering his face. “We’ll have plenty of time to debate our shortcomings over the next few days.” He picked at a frayed thread on the sofa. “Though I suppose you won’t recall much once the withdrawal fully kicks in.” The prince rose and grabbed Jassyn’s glass, refilled it and forced it back into his hands. “Stay hydrated. I imagine you’ll start puking soon.”
Jassyn stared at the water, unease pooling in his gut like the rain puddles forming on Vesryn’s balcony. “How did you stop?” He glanced at his cousin for reassurance. They’d never discussed the prince’s former vices, but his indulgence wasn’t exactly a secret.
“I solicited help from my brother’s dracovae handlers,” Vesryn said, flopping back to the couch. “I ordered them to tether me and chain me in a stall.” His mouth twisted. “I gave them instructions to leave me alone for a week, and to periodically shove food and water in through the door. They shielded the cell so they wouldn’t have to hear my crazed screaming.”
The prince sprawled across the sofa, hooking his ankles over an armrest. Jassyn’s armrest. Pinching his lips, Jassyn debated how effective he’d be at displacing the prince’s legs from his lap.
“It was far from pleasant sobering up only to realize I had spent days wallowing in my own filth.” Vesryn rolled his eyes. “And you’ll be pleased to know my flight captain has never let me forget it.”
Jassyn emitted a disgusted scoff, sipping at the water, ready to curl into a ball and endure whatever the next few days would bring. “Lovely.” Hand still shaking like reeds in the wind, he carefully placed the goblet on the end table beside him.
Vesryn lifted a palm. With a flare of force, an apple from the fruit basket on his dining table hovered through the air, landing on top of his waiting fingers. “I was under Stardust’s influence for much longer than you, so I doubt you’ll be reduced to that state.” The prince gestured with his thumb to a door behind him. “In any case, you’re staying with me.” He grinned, a mischievous light flashing in his eyes. “I’ll make sure you stay quite safe in my bed.”
“What?” Jassyn heaved Vesryn’s legs out of his lap. “That’s unnecessary. I’ll return to my chambers.”
Vesryn swung his ankles back onto Jassyn’s armrest. “Would you rather I settle into your apartment, poke around, and rearrange your books to my liking? I’ll crack all the spines, stars help me.” Jassyn flinched at the unsettling noise of Vesryn biting into the apple. “You’re going to be incapacitated. You’ll need someone to watch over you so you don’t try anything stupid.”
Jassyn leaned his head against the couch, staring at the ceiling. “And what makes you the perfect guardian for that?”
Vesryn nudged Jassyn’s shoulder with his bare toes. “You came to me.”
Thwarted, Jassyn scowled, conceding to suffer through spending time with the prince. What was I expecting?
“You can change out of your leathers and get into something more comfortable.” Vesryn bounced the half-eaten apple in his palm. “I have some of that cashmere you’re so fond of.”
Jassyn’s eye twitched when Vesryn pronounced it as “cazzmere.”
“You have no idea how much I’m looking forward to spending this quality time together,” the prince said, ruffling his curls. “You really should visit more often, you know.”
Jassyn didn’t have any remaining fight left to fend Vesryn off. I brought this on myself. He wilted like a trampled flower, melting deeper into the sofa.
Submitting to resignation and exhaustion, Jassyn covered his face in a fit of despair, begging the pounding in his head to subside. He felt like weeping in both relief for the help and in defeat when Vesryn started rubbing his shoulder in what he interpreted as compassionate amusement.
Jassyn swallowed to stave off a renewed lurching in his gut. Oh stars. That was one of his final coherent thoughts before dashing to the bathing chambers to empty the contents of his stomach.
CHAPTER 3
LYKOR
Lykor lurked, still like a shadow, silent as the night. Clouds obscured the moons, threatening to smother the mountains with a late spring snow. Tapping into one of his wraith abilities, he concealed himself in a shroud of darkness—invisible to prying eyes.
At the rim of a frosty vale surrounded by pine trees, Lykor lingered fifty paces away from a lone dracovae rider’s camp. A fire pressed back the gloom against the starless sky. Tongues of flame reflected in each of the dracovae’s slatey scales as it lay curled around the elf nestled against its feathered shoulder. The beast huffed in its sleep, the heavy exhale unfurling from its beak as a plume of steam.
Lykor had detected the dracovae’s silhouette against the horizon that morning, soaring above the glacial edge of the continental shelf. He’d opened a portal hundreds of leagues away from the safety of the wraith’s stronghold for his people to tend their fishing nets along the frigid coast.
If he believed in such a thing, Lykor would’ve said that the stars had aligned, positioning him in the same location as this elf. He’d been tracking the rider the entire day while she made sweeping flights across the northwestern border of the Timber Wilds.
Lykor doubted the dracovae would survive a journey to their hidden fortress without freezing to death, but this elven patrol was still too close to the Hibernal Wastes for his liking. Judging from the sheathed weapons and the scaled armor bundled under her cloak, Lykor suspected the riders were now warriors—a shift from when Aesar had simply managed curation of the beasts’ population a century ago.
Now apparently involved in the elven military, Lykor anticipated this rider had orders or information he could extract. Today marked three days after their failed assault and her proximity was a threat to his people—especially since she was inching closer to their remote borders. Hunting. Intruding.
The wraith’s scouting parties had already discovered camps of assembled humans spanning across every realm. An alarming number of mortals had gathered along the fringes of the Wastes. It was only a matter of time before they fanned out, scouring for the wraith under King Galaeryn’s tyranny. Lykor knew that their time sheltering in the secluded stronghold was coming to an end—if the presence of this rider and the human war bands were any sign.
