Page 10

CHAPTER 10

JASSYN

A fter a restless afternoon spent trapped in the ebb and flow of shallow sleep, Jassyn had accompanied Serenna and Fenn to the lower levels of the fortress, the area untouched by Vesryn’s battle with Lykor the night before. Lured by the scents of rich fare wafting through the streets, Fenn had insisted on dining in the stronghold’s mess halls despite Serenna’s protests that Kal’s kitchens were closer—and quieter.

Their path had wound through tiered gardens aglow with luminous blooms and past makeshift pastures where wraithlings were brushing a flock of fuzzy miniature goats. The creatures’ bleats had followed them, echoing faintly beneath the steady buzz of conversation as warriors filtered in and out of the dining commons.

A molten stream pulsed like a heartbeat, spilling fiery light across the cavern walls as the vein fed the kitchen hearths. Heat seeped into the stone, radiating a comfortable warmth as Jassyn leaned over his empty bowl.

After Serenna’s numerous warnings about the wraith cooking everything with an overabundance of mushrooms and lichens, Jassyn had warily eyed the questionable contents of the dish. But rather than tasting like something scraped off a rock, the soup had been richly seasoned, the bite of an unfamiliar spice lingering pleasantly on his tongue.

“This ‘grotto stew’ was actually good,” Jassyn admitted, setting his spoon down regretfully.

Across the long wooden table, Fenn’s eyes gleamed in the firelight. “You sound surprised. Did you believe we feast on elven flesh?”

Serenna choked mid-bite, wrinkling her nose before shifting on the bench to jab him in the ribs.

Jassyn idly traced a groove carved into the table—a talon scrape in the grains. “Well…” he began, but his answer withered under Fenn’s knowing smirk. There was no need to voice the misconception.

Koln led a group of wraith over to their table, greeting Fenn with a slap on the back. Their laughter and rough camaraderie rang out, bouncing off the cavernous stone.

Koln’s curious gaze lingered on him uncomfortably as the soldiers murmured amongst themselves of how he’d decimated an area of the stronghold’s plants to save Fenn’s life. Burdened by the attention, Jassyn dropped his focus to the table’s gouged surface.

Solitude had always been his refuge. The sanctuary of his quarters on Centarya, the island that had once felt like home, had been his shield against the realm. That was nothing but a memory now, abandoned when he and Vesryn fled.

His thoughts drifted to what else he’d left behind—Nelya and the ring of trusted magus. Despite Elashor’s tightening grip, surely they still shared moments like these wraith warriors, stolen respites where fellowship formed. He hoped they would endure.

Mired in his ruminations, Jassyn only caught fragments of the conversation around him—Fenn’s boasts about Serenna incinerating reavers and scattered remarks about Lykor’s absence. The latter snagged his attention, dragging up the image of the gauntlet crashing into his face.

He almost understood the fury behind it. He’d only tried to help, but that hadn’t mattered. Clenching his hands, Jassyn resisted the urge to trace the jagged scar etched into his skin—a permanent reminder of the choice he’d made.

Hesitation had been his failure—a weakness that had left him defenseless. He wouldn’t let it happen again. Next time, he’d act without pause, without doubt, to protect himself, even if it meant wielding coercion.

His pulse quickened as the memory tingled through his fingertips, the effortless domination. This new whispering strength, promising that he’d never be powerless again. Exerting control—forcing obedience—should have horrified him. Instead, it thrilled him. A stirring he buried deep, a rush he didn’t dare confront.

A prickle at the back of his neck jolted Jassyn out of his thoughts. On the far side of the cavern, Vesryn emerged from the mouth of a tunnel, drawing back a curtain of bioluminescent moss. He moved like a storm rolling in on the horizon as he prowled around the rows of tables, ignoring the watchful eyes of the gathered wraith.

Fenn trailed off mid-sentence when Serenna stiffened on the bench, her spine snapping straight. Tilting his head, Fenn’s eyes flared as he watched the prince approach.

“Don’t,” Serenna hissed under her breath, darting to grip Fenn’s arm before he even moved.

Fenn glanced down at her, an unrestrained grin nearly splitting his face in two.

Jassyn tried to interpret the silent exchange between them, but he couldn’t make any sense of it. Only then did he realize that Koln and the warriors had left for their evening patrol.

Focusing on the prince, Jassyn reflexively reached through the bond. He slammed into a solid wall, his cousin’s emotions still sealed away. Judging from the shadows smudged beneath Vesryn’s eyes, he clearly hadn’t found any rest.

In a single fluid motion, Fenn unfolded from his seat. Towering at his full height, he stretched his claws over his head, dominating the space. “Princeling,” he drawled, the word hanging somewhere between a greeting and a challenge.

Vesryn halted a few paces away, eyes flicking over the remnants of their meal. His arms tensed, fingers twitching at his sides as Fenn sauntered toward him.

Fenn looped around him, close enough to brush shoulders, sizing the prince up with predatory delight. Nostrils flaring, Vesryn tracked Fenn’s movements as annoyance deepened his scowl.

“I prefer taller males,” Fenn mused, his voice a low purr as he came to a halt at the prince’s side. His eyes burned a deliberate path down Vesryn’s leathers, his amusement flashing along with his fangs. He shrugged, glancing at Serenna. “But I suppose he’s…adequate. If you insist.”

Jassyn held his breath when Vesryn’s irritation spilled into something darker, a muscle feathering in his jaw. While tall by elven standards, he was a full head shorter than the wraith warrior—a fact Fenn obviously enjoyed highlighting.

Serenna groaned and dragged her palms over her face. Jassyn was reluctant to get involved, but the rising tension hammered in his pulse. He cast about for an excuse to divert Fenn, but Vesryn spoke first.

The prince’s voice was quiet, yet it held a lethal edge. “Remind me,” he said, briefly glancing at Serenna before pinning a glare on Fenn. “Who are you, again? Wraith target practice?”

Fenn barked an explosive laugh, genuine mirth reverberating off the stony walls. “Bold words, coming from the elf who went down with one shot.” His grin stretched wider as he made another slow circuit around the prince. “I’m hers,” he said, tipping his chin toward Serenna.

Jassyn tensed alongside Serenna as they sensed the same thing—Vesryn’s mental barrier had stretched thin, his patience fracturing.

Fenn had to stop his prodding before Vesryn erupted.

Doing the complete opposite, Fenn instead delivered a slap to Vesryn’s backside, the crack echoing through the cavern. “I want a pair of these trousers,” Fenn crooned, deliberately giving the prince a squeeze. “Where did you—”

Vesryn’s fist flew straight at Fenn’s face.

Cackling wildly, Fenn disappeared, warping to the prince’s other side.

Baring his teeth, Vesryn spun on his heel, swinging another punch.

Fenn caught it mid-strike, his roguish grin devouring Vesryn’s scowl. “Oh, I think we’ll get along just fine, Princeling.”

Vesryn yanked his hand free and lunged, but Fenn warped again, reappearing behind him.

“Your speed is lacking,” he taunted, jabbing the prince’s shoulder with enough force to make him stumble.

Boots scraped against stone as Vesryn whirled, snarling as his fists went flying. Fenn darted back, the blows slicing empty air. The two circled around the dining furniture, their clash drawing raucous cheers from the gathered wraith.

Jassyn rose, rounding the table to sit on the bench beside Serenna. Her eyes bounced back and forth, following their swinging arms.

“Should we…do something?” he asked, uncertain what they even could do, just as Vesryn’s punch missed Fenn by inches.

Serenna picked one of her nails, a knot of worry forming between her brows. “Fenn’s just…” She huffed, gesturing helplessly. “I don’t know. Testing him?”

Jassyn perched his elbows on the table, resting his chin on his fists. “Vesryn could end this anytime with magic.” He winced as Fenn’s fist slammed into the prince’s gut with a dull thud, doubling him over.

Before Vesryn recovered, Fenn slipped behind him, fangs gleaming in the firelight. He hooked an arm around the prince’s neck, yanking him back into a chokehold.

Vesryn twisted sharply, dropping his weight. He drove a shoulder into Fenn’s ribs, forcing him off balance. Wrenching himself free, the prince threw savage blows at Fenn, fists a blur. Fenn blocked the first, snared the second, but the third—a brutal uppercut—snapped his head back.

Fenn staggered, chuckling darkly as he worked his jaw. Their breaths came in bursts as they circled each other, quiet hostility simmering. Vesryn shifted his stance and Fenn’s grin lingered as he matched the prince step for step. But his eyes flicked to Serenna when she pointedly cleared her throat.

Fenn rolled his shoulders and inclined his head toward the prince, clacking his talons together in a gesture that seemed more like acknowledgment than mockery. Vesryn’s eyes narrowed to slits, but before he could react further, Fenn warped again.

Jassyn nearly jumped off the bench when Fenn appeared beside him.

“Come on, pretty elf,” Fenn said, his tone light, yet leaving no room for argument. “We’d better give them space to talk before the princeling tears up the kitchens. If the pocket goats spook, Lykor will flay all our hides when he returns.”

Fenn’s claws curled gently around his arm, tugging him to his feet. Jassyn cast a fleeting look at Vesryn, but the prince’s focus had already shifted to Serenna.

“I did promise Koln I’d bring you to the Lagoon,” Fenn continued. With an insistent pull, he gave Jassyn no chance to protest. Fenn herded him toward a tunnel and Jassyn’s feet scrambled to follow.

As they reached the edge of the chamber, Fenn glanced back at Vesryn and then to Serenna. “Let me know if you need anything,” he said, tapping his temple.

Serenna nodded, her smile strained but steady. “I’ll be fine.”