Page 24

CHAPTER 24

SERENNA

S erenna glanced between the prince and the portal, which remained open longer than expected. Jassyn, of all people—measured, deliberate, and cautious—had hurled himself into the unknown after Lykor.

“Do you think they’ll be all right?” Serenna dared to ask, staring at the rift, expecting Jassyn to be flung back through it.

“Jassyn can handle himself,” Vesryn said, scratching Aiko under her chin as the vulpintera purred softly in his arms. “But keeping Lykor alive? That’s the real challenge—especially if Lykor is star-bent on exploring the Wastes alone.”

Vesryn shook his head and strode toward Thalaesyn and the magus. He joined their conversation, low voices fading into the background—a discussion of needed supplies. Serenna didn’t linger to catch more.

Everyone else had their purpose, their vital role in this shifting war, but she…

Well, she had brazenly declared to Lykor that she was the most qualified to find the Heart, so now she’d follow through. His entire plan hinged on gathering more relics to free the dragons—their only hope to counter the king’s growing power. Whether Lykor liked it or not, he couldn’t do it all alone.

She’d uncover the Heart before Lykor finished crossing the Wastes. And not because he’d find it “useful,” but to prove to herself that she could.

Serenna stepped out of the tree, purpose crystallizing with each stride, her boots crunching against the pathway of stones. The warm air settled around her, thick with the scent of damp soil and moss.

She wove around Naru, who was sprawled in the grass, claws scything the air as he rolled onto his back, sending tufts of greenery flying. Much calmer now, Trella lay nestled in the curve of thick roots, one eye cracked open to watch her mate frolic.

“Serenna.”

She halted as Vesryn’s voice broke the stillness. Turning, the jungle seemed to hold its breath around her—leaves barely whispering in the canopy above, splintering sunlight across the forest floor.

Aiko sprang from the prince’s arms, leathery wings beating in quick bursts as she soared into the towering trees. Naru’s eyes pinned with interest, keen and unblinking as he tracked the vulpintera. She landed gracefully on a low-hanging branch, tiny paws weaving nimbly through the tangled vines.

Serenna’s pulse quickened when Vesryn reached her side, the world shrinking to the space between them. With last night’s chaos and this morning’s frantic efforts, every moment since they’d entered the jungle had been a blur. They had barely spoken, their paths crossing only in brief glances, both consumed by their own tasks.

Vesryn opened his mouth but hesitated, uncertainty shadowing his eyes. Slowly, he reached out, his fingers skimming a trail along her arm.

Her power stirred involuntarily, a spark igniting. Serenna drew a shuddering breath, the humid air clinging to her lungs.

She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed this—missed him —until now. Stolen moments of fleeting touches, the push and pull of their unresolved tension, the charge of magic racing between them. The absence had hollowed her, leaving a void she hadn’t fully acknowledged.

“I felt you tug on the bond,” the prince murmured, his gaze capturing hers. “Last night, when I was at the stables.” He shook his head, eyes unfocusing on the dracovae. “If we hadn’t been under attack, I would have—”

“I know,” Serenna cut in gently, brushing aside the apology he didn’t owe. “I’m sorry about the rangers you lost.”

Regret settled over Vesryn like a heavy cloak as his fingers slipped from her arm. The silence constricted her throat, his sorrow engulfing the bond. She hated how they stood so close, yet how vast the chasm between them felt.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Serenna said, her hand finding his, wishing she could pull him free from the undertow of his doubts. She squeezed his fingers, willing him to see that he was stronger than his failures, better than the shadows he couldn’t shake off.

“They trusted me to lead them,” Vesryn whispered, his voice trembling like the leaves rustling above. “And I failed them, just like I failed my brother.” His jaw tightened, the lines of his face drawn taut with guilt. “Lykor is right,” he mumbled to himself, shoulders curving in as if bracing against his own words. “I have no business leading.”

Serenna scoffed, making no effort to temper her scorn. “That’s not true. Lykor is cruel because he can’t stand the inconvenience of being questioned—especially by someone who might be right.” She tightened her palm around his. “You’re still the prince we need—that I need.”

The bleakness in Vesryn’s eyes ebbed as he stepped closer, cupping her cheek. “I haven’t even managed to do that right.” His thumb traced a tender path, leaving an arc of tingling warmth in its wake. “Nothing has turned out how I thought it would and…I don’t even know if I can do this without you.”

“You won’t have to,” Serenna whispered, searching the emerald depths of his eyes.

Vesryn’s lips nearly curved, but the effort withered before it could fully form. His touch lingered for a heartbeat longer before his hand fell away.

He wasn’t the same and neither was she. Distance, circumstance, and time had chiseled them into shapes that no longer aligned. The foundation they’d once stood on had crumbled—but he was still here, still willing to try.

“Why don’t you come search for the Heart with me?” Serenna asked, breaking the quiet. She scanned the tangle of trees, the activity in the glade obscured by the greenery. “Unless the rangers need you?”

Vesryn glanced at Naru, now curled in the grasses, a massive mound of scales and feathers rising and falling with the steady rhythm of sleep. The prince’s sigh sounded more defeated than anything else. “Zaeryn can organize the next hunt. There’s no hope of waking Naru without risking a limb.”

Serenna’s lips twitched. “Not even with a few rabbits?”

For the first time since they’d been reunited, Vesryn chuckled softly. “If we stumble across any, you’re welcome to tempt him yourself.”

His humor faded as he studied the dense underbrush of ferns, reaching out to rub a serrated leaf between his fingertips. “But I doubt the jungle holds anything beyond plants and insects anymore. Aesar and I found nothing that suggested otherwise when we explored…a century ago.”

Serenna sensed the ache of the past still engraved in Vesryn’s thoughts, a haunting echo trapped in the corners of his heart. Even with his brother returned, the veil of mourning lingered, sorrow for a future lost. Serenna laced her fingers with his, offering what comfort she could.

“Did either of you have any guesses as to how this jungle came to be?” she asked, gently tugging him along the winding pathway back to the glade.

This pocket of life defied reason, flourishing where only ice should prevail. Cradled in the snowy mountains, far beyond the reach of warmth or rain, it thrived—impossibly alive. Just like the wraith fortress, something unseen shielded it, magic beyond their perception.

“I’ll spare you Aesar’s long-winded explanations,” Vesryn said with a dry snort, coming back to himself. “Ask him sometime if you have hours to spare. But his favorite theory?” He pursed his lips, lost in thought before waving around the jungle—what remained of one of the ancient druid cities. “The Wastes weren’t always the frozen desolation we know. Perhaps this whole mountain range was once a vibrant jungle and the fabric of the world was altered.”

Serenna slowed mid-stride, her footsteps skipping over gems embedded into the paving stones, each one shimmering with a strange, captive light. “The druids had such power?” The Wastes stretched far beyond her imagination—as vast as the realms combined—if Lykor’s grumblings held any truth.

“Maybe they didn’t shape the earth alone,” Vesryn said, brushing aside a cluster of hanging vines. “There could’ve been an alliance with shamans and dragons—forged to shield humanity on this side of the world before their races fell. Whatever happened, no one alive knows the truth. Too much has been buried by time.”

Even if the ancient races had sacrificed everything—lives, legacies—it hadn’t been enough. The Aelfyn had navigated the sea and defied the Maelstrom’s wrath, risking everything to reach mortal shores. In the end, it was the elves who’d survived. And now, they seemed determined to finish what their ancestors had started.

Serenna stepped over gnarled roots with her hand in the prince’s, her heart growing heavy beneath the shelter of braided branches.

But the dragons ended up in chains. If the druids reclaimed some of the Hearts, why did they never free them? Perhaps it hadn’t been that simple. Or maybe their race vanished before they had a chance.

There was so much they didn’t know—even with the shaman power she and Jassyn possessed. The limits of their connection to the earth were still being stretched. She clung to the hope that uncovering more of her abilities would tip the scales in their favor.

Serenna drew a deep breath, the humid air heavy with the hum of verdant life. “Jassyn did something I’d never even considered with our elemental power,” she mused, tracing the intricate fenestrations in a gargantuan leaf as they passed by. “He somehow harnessed and transferred life to heal Fenn—”

Vesryn’s hand stiffened in hers, killing the rest of her words. The name struck like flint on steel, igniting something dark in his expression. He drew to a halt at the treeline, the bustling camp coming into view.

Tents dotted the bank of the stream like wildflowers, smoke curling from cookfires into the sky. Unexpected laughter rippled through the activity as a horde of wraithlings splashed in the shallows, warping as they chased one another through the water.

“My brother said that wraith watched over you,” Vesryn all but gritted out, a prickle of jealousy stabbing her like a thorn. “That he protected you.”

Serenna tamped down the surge of irritation rising at the prince’s contempt. A heated defense wouldn’t soften him. It would only drive the wedge deeper. She wanted Vesryn to see Fenn as she did—steadfast, loyal, a pillar of strength—rather than a rival. But even she could admit, Fenn wasn’t making that easy.

Serenna packed her lungs full with a fortifying breath, willing herself to stay calm. I got myself into this.

“Fenn is important to me,” she said gently.

The prince’s annoyance flared, bright like a star streaking across the night sky. His fingers twitched before withdrawing from hers, the sudden absence carving distance between them.

The rift between them stung sharper than Serenna expected, but she couldn’t blame him. She knew that bitter twist of envy all too well—and hated how her actions were now the cause.

Vesryn’s jaw flexed as he studied the makeshift settlement, though his thoughts seemed to drift far beyond it. Kal, his band of warriors, and a group of magus emerged through a portal, ushering through another load of supplies.

“Aesar respects him,” Vesryn finally mumbled, each word dragged up like a stone from the depths of his frustration. “And he holds an affection for him like he would a son.” A muscle feathered in his cheek. “I don’t like that wraith—or even want to—but…” He exhaled sharply, resignation in the sound, and continued to avoid her eyes. “I’m glad you had someone watching your back when I couldn’t.”

“Fenn didn’t replace you,” Serenna said quietly, her heart twisting for the hurt she’d inflicted on the prince. Bridging the gap, she rested a hand on his arm. “You’re important to me too.”

Vesryn didn’t respond at first, didn’t seem to breathe as he tensed under her fingertips. Finally, he cleared his throat and tore his gaze away from the camp, his eyes landing back on hers.

“I know this isn’t the time or the place to figure out whatever this is, or could be, but…” He suddenly captured her shoulders with a fierce tenderness, hauling her against his chest. “If these moments are all we get,” he murmured, brushing the crown of her head as he rested his chin there, “then I’ll take them.”

Serenna sank into his embrace, resting her cheek against the worn leather of his tunic. His heartbeat thrummed a steady rhythm through his ribs as he squeezed her close.

In that moment, the dangers beyond the jungle and the shadow of an uncertain future vanished, held at bay by the quiet certainty of his arms.