Page 23

CHAPTER 23

SERENNA

S erenna’s steps slowed at the sight of Trella pacing around a tree.

The dracovae’s feathers shimmered like frost, reflecting the sunlight filtering through the canopy. She restlessly prowled over gnarled roots, talons scraping furrows into the earth.

If Trella was here and this agitated… There was only one explanation.

For a fleeting moment, Serenna considered turning around as Lykor’s voice thundered from within the tree, his anger a sharp-edged torrent.

The ground trembled, the sudden jolt making Serenna jump. With a dramatic chuff that rustled the leaves above, Trella dropped to her belly, long neck snaking forward to peer through the opening.

Gathering her courage, Serenna lobbed the apples she was carrying toward the beast, unsure if dracovae even ate anything besides meat. The fruits landed with dull thuds and rolled past Trella, the offering utterly ignored.

With bated breath, Serenna inched around the dracovae, who seemed more fixated on Lykor than her.

“I don’t care if you wiped Aesar’s ass when he was still swaddled,” Lykor snapped at Thalaesyn as Serenna slipped into the hollow trunk. “Your association with Mara and her family means less to me than dracovae dung.” Lykor stalked closer to the magister, boots thumping against the polished wood. “If you’re with us, you’re under my command. If you disagree—”

A muscle ticked in Lykor’s cheek as Jassyn drifted away from a cluster of magus tending to injured wraith in makeshift cots.

Lykor ignored him, swinging his gaze back to the magister. Threads of viridian light pulsed through the ancient bark, sharpening the angles of his jaw. “If you refuse to follow my orders, I won’t hesitate to send you through a portal to the capital’s prisons.” His voice lowered, darker than an abyss. “Or perhaps you’d prefer becoming acquainted with the mountain dungeons where Galaeryn kept the wraith—where he denied us even the shadows of stars.”

Serenna winced as Lykor drove a gauntleted finger into Thalaesyn’s chest, each jab punctuating his words. “Then you’d understand what we felt—what your arrogance cost us.” His eyes blazed like an inferno. “Galaeryn never would have learned how to pilfer power if you hadn’t paved the way and created the wraith first!”

Thalaesyn stepped out of Lykor’s reach, the words lingering between them like a rotting wound. “If I had known—” The magister shook his head, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I was trying to reverse the sterility curse. I thought…I truly thought I was helping our people.”

“ Helping? ” Lykor’s scoff was drier than ash. “Did that delusion help you sleep at night? All you did was hand Galaeryn the key to an endless source of power!”

Thalaesyn dragged a hand through his golden hair, face contorted with guilt. “Do you think I don’t know that?” His voice lowered, barely above a whisper. “I carry that weight every day. I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to atone.”

Serenna knew his apology wouldn’t matter. Regret was powerless against the past, and Lykor’s fury left no room for forgiveness.

Lykor let out a harsh breath, the metal of his gauntlet grinding under the strain of his clenching fist. Scowling at his armor, his fingers curled tighter, like he’d rather be crushing the magister’s throat.

His eyes refocused, flaring as they landed back on Thalaesyn. “Did you know Galaeryn claims to hear the voices of the Aelfyn?” Lip curling, Lykor gestured to his head. “It began after his eyes turned silver. He’s convinced they’re speaking to him—giving him commands.”

Serenna shuddered at the terrifying thought. Voices of the Aelfyn? Lykor might be volatile, but at least the voice in his head was real.

Lykor’s words dripped sarcastic venom. “Galaeryn believes he’s chosen . That if he offers these Aeflyn another source of power—or enough pilfered Essence—they’ll reward him with a place at their side among the stars.”

His voice shook, fury fraying the edges as he bit out through his teeth, “So if you want to ‘atone’ and help stop his reign, then you can start by following my orders. Return to Alari. We need to reclaim that fucking Heart.”

So that’s what this was about.

Serenna bit her lip, swallowing the urge to remind him that they still had a relic—now under Mara’s watch. But Lykor’s temper burned too hot for reason, and she doubted he would care about anything beyond reclaiming the one they’d lost.

But if the king used the relic Ayla had stolen, the consequences could be catastrophic. Serenna understood Lykor’s dread—the thought of the king freeing one of the chained dragons and twisting that ancient power to his will…

The threads of light in the tree flickered, pulsing like a heartbeat as Jassyn eased closer. The movement snagged Lykor’s attention, his eyes narrowing to slits. Serenna tensed as his fangs flashed, but Jassyn didn’t flinch.

“I agree with Thalaesyn,” Jassyn began slowly, holding out a palm as if soothing a wild animal. “Returning to Centarya—or the capital—is a risk that accomplishes nothing.” He shook his head, brushing curls away from his face as he met Lykor’s scalding stare. “Wherever that Heart is, it’s beyond our reach. And if we’re caught…” Jassyn hesitated, glancing at Nelya, who beckoned Thalaesyn back to aid a wounded warrior. “The king would tear the location of this jungle from us. We’d lose more lives—and the other Heart.”

Tension coiled in Lykor’s neck as Serenna watched him wrestle with that thought. His fists clenched at his sides as if sheer force could crush his frustration into submission. Jassyn was right and Lykor knew it.

A twinge of sympathy pierced her. For all his rage and cutting words, Lykor’s greatest flaw was the burden of his care, as if the fate of their people balanced entirely on his shoulders. It wasn’t just pride that made him lash out—it was fear. Fear of failing those he’d sworn to protect. Fear of watching everything he’d fought for crumble to dust.

“I could start searching for the Heart here,” Serenna offered, stepping forward. Her pulse quickened under Lykor’s scowl, but she kept her voice steady, providing him a way out—a chance to pivot without surrendering.

Lykor crossed his arms over his armor, rolling his eyes. “I’ve searched for weeks and found nothing. What makes you think you’ll do any better?”

Serenna bristled, seared by a hot flash of annoyance. Of course his only thanks would be scorn.

“You obviously haven’t explored everywhere,” she shot back, planting her hands on her hips and matching his glare. “Fenn and I found the Heart in your fortress,” she reminded him. “And let’s not forget—I’m the one who brought you the relic from Centarya.”

That certainly hadn’t been intentional, but she’d claim it now—to fuel her argument and needle this ungrateful male a little further.

Serenna ticked off her fingers deliberately. “That’s two of the five Hearts that I’ve had a hand in locating for you.” She tilted her chin, daring him to argue. “So if anyone’s qualified to locate the one here, it’s me.”

Lykor stooped down to growl in her face. “Then why aren’t you crawling through the jungle to prove it?”

Serenna clenched her teeth. “I’ll get started. Do we have a map? Maybe you can mark where—”

“A map?” Lykor barked an explosive laugh as he straightened. “Oh, right. I forgot. Let me just reach into my pocket and pull it out.” He patted down his leathers, then mimed the motion theatrically, flinging a finger in her face—a crude gesture she slapped away. “No, the druids didn’t leave behind any fucking maps .”

Jassyn cleared his throat. “Vesryn and I didn’t get to explore much yet, but—”

“Then maybe you and Serenna should knock your heads together instead of flapping your tongues,” Lykor gritted out.

A chattering mewl drew everyone’s gaze upward. Aiko glided down from a level above, her wings rustling faintly.

While organizing supplies, two of Fenn’s sisters had sworn to Serenna that Lykor had ordered them to retrieve the vulpintera during the evacuation—above all else. That he’d threatened to wear their hides if Aiko didn’t make it through a portal.

Aiko landed on Jassyn’s shoulders, curling snugly around his neck. Lykor scowled at the purring vulpintera, muttering something about treachery before swinging his focus back to Jassyn.

“Are there any other shamans in the ranks here?” he asked through his teeth, shoulders twitching.

Jassyn scratched behind Aiko’s ear. “A handful, according to the family trees Vesryn and I recovered from the capital. Most have been turned into wraith, but that shouldn’t affect their power.” Shifting his weight, he studied the threads of light etched into the bark. “Though as far as I know, Serenna and I are the only ones who’ve manifested the elemental magic.”

Lykor’s eyes glowed as they swept over Jassyn, calculating. “Then organize them and pry out their abilities. I want them trained.” His gaze shifted to the magus and flicked over the magister with cold indifference. “Thalaesyn has enough menders. He can spare you.”

The prince’s presence brightened in Serenna’s mind. She and Jassyn both turned toward the entrance a heartbeat before Vesryn stomped through.

“You’re not going to order my people around,” Vesryn said sharply, his words as clipped as his stride.

“I’m not wasting my time arguing with you,” Lykor muttered. A burst of force lashed out from his gauntlet, yanking a cloak from a supply pile at the side of the tree.

Vesryn’s jaw tightened as Lykor slung the furs over his shoulders.

“Where do you think you’re going?” the prince demanded.

Lykor sneered. “I’m going to do something useful and continue portal jumping where I left off.”

“Right now ? You can’t go alone,” Vesryn protested, exasperation spilling out as he threw up his arms. “Aesar and I—”

“I’m not Aesar,” Lykor snarled, the rough words making Serenna flinch. “Every day we rot in this jungle is another day the king inches closer to finding us. Sit here with your thumb up your ass waiting for him. I don’t care.”

“Wait.” Vesryn’s hands flexed at his sides, but he let any retorts die on his tongue. “I’ve been trying to catch you all morning—I need to talk to you about what happened in the stables.” Brows drawing tight, a sliver of unease drifted down the bond. “The king wielded illumination in a way I’ve never seen before. It was brighter than sunlight and burned through my shield. I—I don’t know what would’ve happened if that magic had touched us.”

Vesryn shared a glance with Jassyn, perhaps a wordless communication. But he had Lykor’s attention.

“I’d…appreciate knowing what Aesar makes of it,” Vesryn said, his voice less forceful now.

Serenna winced despite his measured—almost deferential—tone. Lykor’s eyes nearly exploded into flames as he stalked up to the prince, cloak whipping around his ankles.

“Aesar hasn’t had the luxury of indulging in pedantic pursuits while I’ve been clawing for survival,” Lykor hissed, his scathing words raising the hairs on Serenna’s arms. “But you don’t need to be a scholar to grasp that we’ve hardly scratched the surface of Essence. Use your fucking brain for once. Surely your experience with rending has enlightened you to the fact that magic exists in tiers .” Lykor’s scowl slid toward Jassyn, including him in his disdain. “And he can tell you that telepathy isn’t confined to simple mind communication.”

Lykor shoved the prince’s chest hard enough to make him stagger. “If you think there’s something useful to illumination, then you can figure this…sunfire out yourself.”

Without waiting for a response, Lykor slashed open a portal, the inky vortex humming with power. He threw Vesryn a final glare over his shoulder before storming through.

Serenna barely had time to exhale before Jassyn mumbled, “I’ll make sure he comes back in one piece.” He peeled a purring Aiko off his shoulders, her wings fluttering briefly as he handed the vulpintera to the prince.

Vesryn’s nostrils flared, but he gave a curt nod, flicking his wrist to summon a cloak from the pile Lykor had raided. Jassyn caught the furs midair, clutching them to his chest before darting through the rift.