Determining the best angle to straighten Fenn’s nose, Serenna slipped in between his knees. She could feel Aiko’s disapproval burning into her spine. I wouldn’t put it past her to scratch out my eyes while I’m sleeping.
As light as a hummingbird, Serenna settled her hands along the planes of Fenn’s face. Releasing a hiss of pain, his fangs snapped out.
“Just remember, you’re the one who refused healing,” Serenna chided, adjusting her fingertips across his nose, feeling for the break.
“I’m thinking that decision might’ve been misguided now.” Fenn cinched his talons around her waist, obviously intending to hold on to her for support.
Serenna narrowed her eyes on him. “Claws on the tub.”
Fenn’s ridiculous, fanged grin split his lip even further. “Are you giving me an order, she-elf?” Instead of listening, his grip tightened around Serenna’s hips, pulling her closer to his chest.
“Those talons are going to shred these leathers.” Serenna resisted the urge to snatch one of his rings—the jewelry pierced into his nipples—to shake some sense into him. “You’ll snap me in half when you flinch.”
“I wouldn’t hurt you.” Fenn pursed his lips but complied, gripping the stony rim. “Don’t tell me when—”
With a twist of her wrists, Serenna snapped the cartilage back into place.
Fenn growled a string of obscenities through his clenched fangs, claws scraping channels into the marble. He panted through his mouth, face paling to ash. Eyes glazing over, he teetered on the edge of the tub.
Serenna snatched his shoulders, but he tumbled forward, crashing to the floor in a heap.
CHAPTER 39
JASSYN
Bracing his hands on his knees, Jassyn yanked in gasping breaths, unable to haul in enough air. Through the white pulsing across his vision, he shot Vesryn a scowl, mustering all of his scant energy to form the glare.
After spending another evening sparring together in the secluded mountain vale, Jassyn had humored the prince by agreeing to a “cool down.” I didn’t realize that meant Vesryn intended to kill me.
For no apparent reason, his cousin had kicked into a sprint. They ran for what felt like miles, up and down and across the grassy hills before finally halting near a lake.
“I’ll be back,” Vesryn said, unbinding his hair from a topknot. The stars-cursed menace didn’t even sound the least bit out of breath. With a wave of his hand, the prince opened a portal, disappearing before Jassyn could react, closing it behind him.
He’d better not strand me here with only his dracovae for company. Through his strained breathing, Jassyn heard the thunderous wingbeats of Trella and Naru flying off in the distance. Vesryn had said the pair preferred roosting in a mountain plateau in the evenings.
A flock of ravens screaming their croaking caws followed shortly after. In a flurry of rustling feathers, the raucous birds dive-bombed their objections as the dracovae disturbed the valley’s peace.
Jassyn silently apologized to his battered body, regretting that he hadn’t propelled himself forward with the wind. In the past month since his liberation from Stardust, voluntarily being brutalized by the prince had gotten no easier. Vesryn possessed a frustratingly keen way of gauging when he began to adapt to the exercise, consistently heightening the difficulty in response.
Lacing his fingers behind his head, Jassyn stretched one of his cramped legs, straining to find some relief. The sun vanished behind the rim of mountain peaks while his heartbeat slowly settled back into place.
A few paces away, a gurgling stream spilled into the lake, carving a route through the rolling landscape. The serenity of the untamed vale offered a brief respite from the exhausting weeks spent untangling coercion at the Ranger Station.
Now spending more time at the stables than on campus, Jassyn had glued himself to his cousin’s side when Vesryn wasn’t out wrangling wraith in the wilds or flying on Naru in search of Serenna—despite still not sensing her presence through the bond.
He’d become all too familiar with his cousin’s routine—beating his body to a pulp to fill every idle moment. Jassyn had a nagging feeling that grief would consume the prince if he stopped long enough to dwell on Serenna’s absence and how many wraith he’d slaughtered over the years.
But none of us knew the truth until a few weeks ago. Vesryn can’t blame himself for doing what he thought was right.
Jassyn turned around when he sensed the pulse of a portal opening. The prince lumbered through the rift, interrupting the quiet chirping of crickets.
“This isn’t quite how I pictured spending the Lunar Solstice,” Vesryn announced, dissolving his gateway. “But I suppose your company will do.”
The prince hefted a basket, bursting to the brim with food that Jassyn assumed was looted from Centarya’s kitchens. With his usual cavalier front, the prince sauntered to the edge of the stream with his spoils, dropping to a patch of grassy ground.
Jassyn wasn’t fooled by the act, but he didn’t have the heart to call Vesryn out on his performance. Not tonight.
Untying the cloth the prince had given him to restrain his curls, Jassyn shook his hair out. He folded himself across from his cousin, leaning against a boulder. While it was summer’s eve, the mountains hadn’t yet relinquished their hold of the chilly evening air—for which he was grateful.
Vesryn unpacked the basket, arranging the food between them. Jassyn buried his dismay, noting the prince had only pilfered cured meats, nuts, and cheeses—no fruit or anything sweet, of course. Grabbing a canteen, he gulped water down while watching a low wall of fog roll into the lower part of the valley.
Letting his awareness drift, streams of air ignited before Jassyn’s eyes. Snatching one, he whirled it around them to actually cool down until his drying skin pebbled in the vigorous breeze.
Vesryn took a pull from a silver flask, capped it, then lobbed the vessel at him. Snagging it before it collided with his head—a reflex now, thanks to the prince forcing him to catch knives—Jassyn inspected the liquid.
Nostrils burning from the alcohol wafting up to assault him, Jassyn rubbed his nose. “You’re not going to tell me what this is, are you?”
“It’s not the fine wine you’re accustomed to.” Vesryn shrugged. “The rangers trade farmers dracovae feathers and scales for it. The humans claim the drink will have elves sprouting chest hairs like them.” Vesryn pulled down his loose tunic, inspecting the scarred patch of bare skin. “I, unfortunately, have yet to experience that effect.”
Jassyn took a hesitant sip. The drink seared his throat like a swallowed coal. He spluttered, abandoning any semblance of manners by spitting the liquid on the ground.
“Scorching stars,” he hacked, as some of the alcohol slid past his tongue. “You might as well drink fire.”
Vesryn smirked. “I never pass up the opportunity to watch someone try it for the first time.”
“I’m glad I didn’t disappoint,” Jassyn coughed, flinging the flask back.
The prince retrieved a bottle of Jassyn’s preferred sweet red blend. Flaring Essence, Vesryn popped the cork with a tug of force. Apparently not having packed glasses either, he floated Jassyn the entire bottle. With a sigh, Jassyn grabbed the wine, taking a drink before placing it in the grass. Frowning, he glanced toward the prince.
“Aren’t you supposed to…” Jassyn trailed off, pursing his lips as Vesryn shoveled slices of beef into his mouth. “Aren’t you supposed to be in Kyansari?”
“Probably,” Vesryn said around the food.
Napkins and utensils were absent, not surprising Jassyn in the least that the prince had also deemed those unnecessary. Succumbing to getting his hands dirty, he folded a sliver of cured veal in half, wedging a cheese square into the pocket.
Jassyn gazed out over the rolling expanse as the first stars bloomed across the sky. He hesitantly asked, “I thought you had to attend your engagement ceremony tonight?”
“Fuck that.” The prince scoffed, peeling off his boots and socks. “I’ve already done enough where that obligation is concerned.”
Jassyn cringed as his cousin took more than one continuous swallow from the flask without even flinching. Vesryn has already crossed the line for decades. Open defiance like this…
Worry still nagged at him, preventing Jassyn from dropping the matter. “But surely the king won’t tolerate it if you disregard the royal pairing.”
“Do you think I care?” Vesryn glared a challenge at him, halting Jassyn’s counter. “What do you think he’ll do? Coerce me to his will? Turn me into a wraith? I don’t know what to do about the capital yet, but I’m not going back.” Vesryn idly picked at a sliver of wood on the basket, studying the adjacent stream shattering against the rocks. “If he’s responsible for the deaths of my mother and brother…”
A sharp sting of sorrow collided with Jassyn’s chest. Dulling himself, he took another sip of the sweet raspberry vintage. Neither of them had any guesses as to what had truly transpired during the first attack on the palace—if “attack” was even the right word.
A victim of curiosity, Jassyn asked, “Do you think the king is somehow absorbing Essence if he’s the one turning elves into wraith?” He swallowed more wine. “You’ve also noticed how his strength has increased over the years. That shouldn’t be possible.”
