Page 31

CHAPTER 31

SERENNA

S eated on the loamy forest floor, Serenna channeled a stream of raw Essence into a vial. The magic pulsed as it spiraled into the glass container, its glow brightening as dusk draped the glade in shadows.

Beside her, Velinya lounged on her belly in the grass, cradling her chin with her claws as she sighed wistfully. “You both had your magic manifested for a century,” Velinya mused, “and the bond just…appeared one day?”

Newly acquainted with Mara, Velinya had wasted no time prying into the past of the former queen and magister.

“The stars seemed determined to nudge us together one way or another,” Thalaesyn said with a chuckle, accepting the vial Mara handed to him.

A luminous ribbon of Essence unfurled from his fingertips, pooling into the bottom of the container. Each vessel they filled became a reservoir—a safeguard against Wells running dry in future battles.

“I was stationed in the palace for research when it formed,” Thalaesyn continued. “And Mara’s family had moved to the capital while Galaeryn hunted for the strongest line to bind to his.”

Mara sniffed and scowled at the vial as she poured Essence into it. “Galaeryn should’ve selected my half-sister.” Serenna’s thoughts immediately leaped to Jassyn’s mother, whose name she had never learned. “She craved a position in court far more than I ever did. But Galaeryn didn’t care about ambition,” she said bitterly. “The only thing that mattered to him was the magic in our bloodlines—to create his perfect heir.”

Her grip on the vessel tightened, the magic flickering. “When I was the only one to conceive, it irrevocably bound me to the throne. And what an honor that turned out to be.”

Velinya sat up with a disgusted huff, shredding the grass beneath her claws.

Serenna’s stomach soured, a shared wave of contempt rising at the king. She placed her glowing container among the growing stockpile, where Essence shimmered within glass prisons. A glaring reminder of how easily power could be twisted into a cage.

“But it was the twins who brought us together,” Thalaesyn said quietly, funneling another stream of Essence into a bottle. His magic entwined with Mara’s, surrounding them as he drew on the illumination talent he’d given her when they’d rebonded. “I’d heard that Mara refused any help, determined to care for the boys herself. Through the bond, I could feel her exhaustion—I don’t think she slept for a week.” His gaze landed on Mara and softened. “We never acknowledged that the connection had formed, even in passing. But one night, I couldn’t ignore it any longer. And I…sought her out.”

“It was Vesryn.” Mara laughed in earnest, her voice warming. “He was the difficult one. Aesar barely fussed.”

Serenna’s lips twitched, not the least bit surprised.

“When I found her in the nursery, she was barely upright, struggling to soothe him,” Thalaesyn said as he corked his vial and set it aside. “Aesar, somehow, slept soundly through all of the wailing.”

“And as soon as Thal entered the room,” Mara cut in, “I shoved Vesryn at him without a word and collapsed onto the bed.”

Thalaesyn grinned wryly. “Mara and I began spending our evenings together, caring for the twins.”

“We kept the bond’s existence between us, but it became something more when we decided to accept the magic,” Mara finished, her hand finding his. “I wouldn’t have been able to survive life in the palace without him.”

Velinya sighed a dreamy hum, tracing lazy patterns in the grass.

The thought of Mara and Thalaesyn enduring a broken and reforged bond filled Serenna with warmth, tempered by an ache she hadn’t expected.

If her path hadn’t splintered from the prince’s, perhaps they would have already accepted theirs. But now, hesitation hung between them—a gulf of guilt neither had ventured to cross.

Unlike Vesryn and Jassyn’s bond—born of necessity—the thought of completing her own with the prince now felt…rushed. Theirs wasn’t just a tactical merging of power—feelings had become entangled, turning the binding into something more than strategy. And clearly neither of them had figured out how to navigate that yet.

Just as Velinya began pressing for more details, two of Fenn’s sisters warped across the clearing to their group. They clacked their talons in deference to Mara before one addressed Serenna and Velinya. “We’re heading to the lake, if you want to join.”

Velinya shot to her feet in a blur. “We’d love to!” She snatched Serenna’s arm, pulling her up with her.

“Maybe next time,” Serenna said, glancing at the dying light—nearly time for her departure to Vaelyn. “I have to meet with the prince.”

Velinya tied back her curls and flashed a grin. “Your loss,” she quipped, linking arms with Fenn’s sisters and all but dragging the pair into the trees. They joined a horde of wraith heading in the same direction, their laughter gradually dissolving into the soft whisper of leaves.

Serenna bade Mara and Thalaesyn farewell and turned toward the jungle, the bond’s thread guiding her toward the prince. The sun’s fading rays slanted through the canopy, stretching shadows across the mossy floor.

Fenn, already at the lake with Koln, radiated excitement for their journey across the Wastes. But Vesryn’s mood felt more subdued, burdened by an undercurrent of unease.

Navigating over a cluster of vines, Serenna’s steps faltered, a similar apprehension slowing her stride. Vaelyn loomed in her thoughts, a fractured echo of home. Jassyn had told her of the compulsion on her mother—and her brother was surely snared in Elashor’s web as well, blissfully blind to the truth as danger closed in.

But the mission tonight wasn’t about a reunion, or even warning them about the elves. Setting foot in Vaelyn’s court wouldn’t just risk exposure—it would drag her family into yet another conflict that they had no part in.

Serenna could already feel the capital’s condemnation, her name surely listed alongside Vesryn’s, Jassyn’s, and those of the magus who’d cast their lot in with Lykor.

The dense underbrush of ferns parted, unveiling a secluded clearing awash in firelight. The glow from the dancing flames traced the silhouettes of Kal and Vesryn as they sat nearby. Speaking in low tones, they sharpened their daggers, the rhythmic scrapes against the whetstones punctuating the crackling fire.

Just beyond them lay Aesar—Serenna assumed—sprawled out in sleep, his head resting on Trella’s forelegs. The dracovae gently glided her beak through his hair, preening with tender precision. Curled protectively beside her, Naru emitted a rumbling chuff, the deep vibration shuddering through the ground.

The rare serenity tugged at a chord in Serenna’s chest as she settled beside the prince, feeling like an intruder. Vesryn shifted slightly, his knee landing against hers.

“You should take a wraith with you tonight,” Kal urged the prince. “Fenn could keep you cloaked—reduce the chances of detection.”

Vesryn’s hand stilled mid-stroke across the whetstone. Fingers tightening around the hilt of his blade, discord reverberated through the bond. Though he offered no words, he obviously didn’t want Fenn’s involvement.

“What about Aesar?” Serenna asked, gently sidestepping Kal’s suggestion.

Vesryn shook his head, voice soft but firm. “He needs rest.” His gaze lingered on his brother, whose chest rose and fell in a peaceful rhythm beneath Trella’s watchful care. “Lykor has been pushing them too hard.”

“And besides,” Kal added with a weary sigh, “Like me, they’ve lost the ability to cloak.”

“We’ll be careful,” Vesryn assured him, sliding his blade into its sheath with a whisk. “A quick in and out. If possible, we’ll bring back a sentry for questioning. But no unnecessary risks.”

Rising smoothly, the prince extended a hand to Serenna, helping her to her feet. For a moment, hesitation darkened his features as his attention drifted back to Aesar, who rolled over in sleep.

“I’ll stay with him,” Kal offered, stretching and shifting as he settled against a tree. “If Lykor stirs, I’ll insist that he rests as well.”

Vesryn gave a slow nod, his shoulders relaxing slightly. Extending his hand, a glimmering stream of Essence whirled around him. The air wrinkled before a pool of darkness unfurled.

Serenna drew a steadying breath and followed Vesryn through the rift’s cool embrace, the jungle dissolving behind them. Before she could regain her bearings, a second portal tore open—and they stepped through.

Rough stone replaced soft earth when they reached Vaelyn’s cliffs. Twin moons climbed the sky, spilling silver light across the bay.

Like blades poised to strike, dozens of massive hulls anchored in the harbor broke the shimmering waves. The angular vessels gleamed with a stark white sheen, severe in their beauty—harsh like the elves. Furled sails swayed with the tide, the pointed masts rising high to spear the stars.

Serenna’s breath hitched as she scanned the shoreline, wooden piers jutting into the water like skeletal fingers. The pristine sands she once knew were scarred, twisted into something monstrous.

Kyansari’s soldiers prowled the beach, their plated armor glaring in harsh beacons of illumination. Beyond them, lines of humans scurried like ants, toiling as if driven by unseen whips. The mortals dragged crates of supplies between the docks and ships, stacking cargo on the piers despite the deepening night.

Serenna covered her mouth as the truth crashed down. The elves had desecrated her home, turning it into a machine grinding toward conquest.

“They’ve already built so many,” she whispered, her words nearly lost to the wind’s mournful howl. We’re too late.

The prince’s hand settled on the small of her back, a silent comfort against the insurmountable fleet—a hundred, perhaps more. “I think it’s safe to assume those in the bay are ready to sail.” His gaze unfocused on the horizon. “If some haven’t already.”

Serenna trembled, dread clamping around her chest as hope shattered under the fleet’s shadow. Even if they managed to reach the other side of the world before the king, it wouldn’t matter. They were so laughably outnumbered.

And what would remain beneath the elves’ unyielding grasp? Serenna hesitantly sought out the castle across the bay, its towers etched into the sky beneath the moons’ pale glow. She doubted her mother was given a say in the harbor’s creation—or in anything anymore.

The wind snapped across the cliffs, carrying the bitter sting of helplessness. She leaned into the prince, searching for an anchor against the tempest roiling inside her.

Mirroring her disquiet, Vesryn shifted closer, a steady presence at her side.

“Do you think we stand any chance of finding the dragons first?” Serenna asked, her voice catching on the edge of fear. She knew it wasn’t fair to seek solace—not when she sensed the prince’s doubts reflecting her own.

Vesryn’s jaw tightened. “I don’t know,” he admitted softly, the honesty landing heavier than any hollow reassurance. “Everything’s shifting, slipping out of reach. I’m trying to hold it all together, but…”

His words faded before he turned to face her. Moonlight reflected in jade pools that glinted with sorrow as his eyes searched hers. Vesryn’s fingers tightened at her waist, as though afraid she might drift away too.

For all his strength, for all the burdens he carried as an exiled prince, Serenna realized that he needed comfort as much as she did—if not more.

The weight of his unspoken fears crashed into her, but beneath the churning turmoil, Serenna sensed something deeper—a longing for something real, something solid, while the realms crumbled around them.

Vesryn’s gaze flicked from her eyes to her mouth, his breath quickening as if he stood on the edge of a precipice.

And then, without warning, his lips crashed into hers.

The kiss swept over her like a storm, consuming and fierce. It wasn’t gentle and she didn’t expect it to be—didn’t want it to be. It was a strike of lightning, a collision of emotions that had been building for too long.

Serenna pressed into him, her own urgency meeting every stroke of his lips, a silent promise that he wasn’t facing this alone.

It was everything they’d held back—unresolved tension breaking free from the pain of being torn apart. Vesryn hauled her closer, like she was the only lifeline left in this collapsing world.

The surroundings fell away with every nip, every brush of their tongues. The ships, the war at their heels, the desperate quest for hope beyond the Wastes—all of it vanished in the span of those heartbeats. In this stolen fragment of time, it was just them, holding each other under the stars, finding comfort in a fleeting moment.

And like everything else, it didn’t last.

The pressure of Essence blasted through the cliffs, a pulse of raw power shattering the moment. Serenna’s breath caught as they broke apart, spinning toward the source.

On the shore below, a massive portal hung open. Black shadows surged from the rift, strangling the night. Lykor strode through the darkness, releasing a hurricane of rending upon the harbor.

Trella burst through before the portal snapped shut, her earsplitting screech rupturing the air. Claws stirring up sand, the earth quaked as she barreled past Lykor. In a terrifying charge, she plowed down the shoreline, trampling the soldiers in her path. Screams erupted from every direction as Lykor and the dracovae descended on the docks.

Vesryn began swearing, each word more vicious than the last. “I have to stop him before he gets himself killed.” Essence flared around him as his gaze darted to hers.

“Don’t you dare send me back to the jungle,” Serenna snapped, reading that stubborn set of his jaw and the protectiveness flaring down the bond. “I don’t know what you’re planning, but you won’t be able to subdue Lykor.”

Vesryn’s fists clenched and unclenched at his sides. “Then what do you suggest we do?” he growled, his attention flicking back to the shadows swarming across the wharf.

Serenna bit her lip, dread twisting deep in her gut as the bitter answer took shape. “We should help him.”