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.
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.
