Page 46

CHAPTER 46

SERENNA

“ W hat do we do?” Serenna croaked as the flayers crept forward, their legs scraping across the sand.

“It doesn’t matter,” Lykor growled, his gaze searing into the female druid above them. “We’re already dead.”

Serenna’s voice cracked. “You don’t know that!”

A fevered hush rippled through the arena. Hundreds of red eyes bore down from the tiered levels, anticipating the spectacle of suffering.

Breath rasping in her ears, Serenna clenched her teeth, resisting the urge to cower. The weight of those stares pressed against her, suffocating as the heat itself. Sweat slicked every bare inch of her, the stone at her back radiating the sun’s accumulated wrath.

Shame soured her gut, but nakedness was the least of her concerns. The flayers would slaughter them, clothed or not.

The female druid lifted her palm slowly, a glint of light lancing through the infernal brightness. She aimed the Starshard directly at the prince. The gem hummed, the noise barely audible at first—a whisper, a breath drawn before a scream.

Serenna’s heart bolted as the sound swelled to a screech, each beat a hammerblow counting down to the inevitable strike. The keening whine grew sharper, vibrating in her skull.

She flinched as it discharged, a thunderous crack cleaving the air and rattling through the pit.

Time fractured as darkness erupted from the crystal, shadows streaking toward Vesryn faster than an arrow.

The impact was immediate. Brutal.

Serenna gasped as the rending struck Vesryn’s thigh with the force of a cleaver, butchering muscle and biting bone. His body convulsed, head snapping back against the pillar with a sickening thud.

Swaying in his chains, the prince grimaced as awareness burned through his agony. His breath hitched, a broken sound escaping.

“Vesryn…” His name slipped from her lips. Heart sinking, Serenna swallowed the rest. Waking him would just be another cruelty—dragging him from the mercy of oblivion only to suffer again.

Dark blood poured from the gash, a crimson torrent spilling down his leg and soaking into the sand. The metallic tang became an unholy incense that stirred the flayers into a frenzy. Teeth chittering, their snub noses twitched with a sickening eagerness, legs scurrying faster toward the detected feast.

The creatures advanced in chilling unison, jagged limbs skittering across the sand in eerie synchronicity. Like a swarm of living blades pressing in for the kill, the deadly formation converged on the prince.

Serenna trembled as she counted them. Ten. Ten shelled beasts closing the distance with terrifying inevitability, their path unwavering. A dark thought slithered into her mind. How long would it take for the flayers to strip his legs to the bones?

Terror burst through her as the horde reached him. She couldn’t look away. A nauseating rip followed—the first strip of skin peeled from his foot.

Vesryn jerked, emitting a grunt as his eyes fluttered open. Disoriented, he blinked, weakly tugging against the chains.

Serenna choked on a sob, bile rising in her throat. Tears burned behind her eyes, but there was nothing left to cry. Her body was as parched as the sands beneath her, yet her heart ached enough to weep a flood.

The prince’s face contorted, teeth gritted as the flayers butchered the lower half of his legs, blood splattering across the sand in spurting arcs. They scrambled over each other, struggling to reach up to his knees.

There was nothing to shield him, no armor to deflect the scores of teeth raking trenches into his flesh, tearing him open piece by piece. His body bucked, a feeble attempt at kicking them away.

Dread pooled in Serenna’s gut, heavy as molten lead. Agony would spool out endlessly, death an excruciating unraveling rather than a swift mercy.

And then the flayers would come for her, slowly bleed her out. She’d drown in her screams, their needling teeth an agonizing end.

She barely registered the stomping and howling cheers that rose in the arena—only Vesryn’s gasps and curses, the clatter of his chains as he strained against this inescapable slaughter.

The prince’s eyes locked onto hers—wild with despair, brimming with the merciless certainty of what was to come.

Serenna’s breath caught as she met his gaze—his hopelessness a mirror of her own.

Lykor’s snarl lashed through the air beside her. He threw his weight against his chains. The links rattled as the shackles tore deeper gashes in his wrists, fresh blood spilling.

“We came for aid!” he bellowed at the druid leader. “To find the dragons—to fight the elves! But you…” His eyes burned into the female, unspent wrath simmering as if sheer fury could incinerate her where she stood. “You’re no better than the Aelfyn!”

But Serenna saw it—the fracture in Lykor’s expression, splintering through his rage. Something broke as his eyes flicked to Jassyn, who was beginning to stir awake beside him. Lykor’s fury faltered, face darkening as the truth settled in. He couldn’t stop this, couldn’t deny that they would be devoured alive.

Like he’d said—they were already dead.

The female druid remained unmoved, wreathed in an air of detached finality. The outcome had already been decided, their torment nothing more than a necessary formality.

Her smooth voice rang out over the pit. “We are the remnant, awaiting the New Dawn. And we guard these realms against those who stand with the Aelfyn’s descendants.” Wings shuddering behind her, she lifted a claw, an accusing talon cutting across at the prince. “Like him.” She spat the words with loathing, yet pride curled through them too, a fanatical self-righteousness.

Nostrils flaring, Serenna’s gaze latched onto the key swaying from the female’s wrist. Taunting, gleaming in the sunlight, its presence a silent mockery.

It had to be for their shackles. There could be no other reason for the leader to display it so brazenly. A trophy, a symbol of dominion—or perhaps proof of her certainty that none of them could ever take it.

Serenna’s nails bit into her palms as she hung helplessly in her chains, anger seething like a rising tide. The prince was dying beside her and freedom was right there, just out of reach.

There wasn’t anything she could do. Her magic was trapped— she was trapped. There was no fire, no lightning, nothing destructive for her shaman powers to harness. And even if—

Air whispered against her blistered skin. Her breath quickened, heartbeat pummeling her ribs.

Wind.

If she could twist it, forge it into something ruinous… Combined with the grating sand, it could become a distraction.

She’d have to act fast to keep Vesryn alive for it to matter. And Lykor—she needed to unleash his rage to give them a fighting chance. If he could open a portal before the Starshard struck…

A droning hum pressed against Serenna’s skull as her decision solidified. The druids would retaliate. But better that than the slow, gnawing death awaiting them. Better to shatter in the storm of her own making than to be peeled apart under the sun.

“Lykor,” she whispered. “Open your hands.”

Lykor’s head snapped toward her, eyes thinning. The fires of defiance—now searing her —hadn’t been doused. Not yet.

“Trust me, you stars-cursed, stubborn bastard!” Serenna hissed through her teeth. “We’re not dying without a fight. Isn’t that what you want?”

As his gaze darkened with suspicion, Lykor’s lip curled over his fangs. But to her surprise, he listened.

Muttering a curse, he splayed his palms, talons and fingers stretching skyward against the pillar, yielding himself to whatever madness was about to unfold.

Giving him a nod that he didn’t acknowledge, Serenna exhaled slowly, the weight of it carrying her last flicker of hope. She let herself attune to the dry air scalding her lungs and the restless breeze stirring her hair.

Fear expanded in her chest with every tight inhale as the prince’s struggles reached her ears—but she forced it down, focusing on the quiet hum in the earth.

She fell into it.

A thousand whorls ignited behind her eyes, streamers curling and twisting like a riptide carving through the sea. The earth pulsed in rhythm with her heart as her awareness unfurled, dissolving into the world.

She let go. Drifted.

And yanked on everything .

A gale whipped to life, a turbulent, writhing column lashing in every direction. Too unstable. Too erratic.

Serenna gritted her teeth, steering the currents into a single spiraling path, willing the chaos to obey.

Hands twitching in her shackles, she coaxed the whirlwind into a howling vortex, harvesting sand into its grasp and tearing it upward. Tightening the arc, she honed its force until it was no bigger around than her wrist.

She had to be precise—she couldn’t touch the prince. Each grain became a dagger, a lethal point.

Narrowing her eyes, Serenna aimed the raging currents downward. With one violent thrust, she hurled the cyclone forward—no longer a wild tornado, but a whirling spear of sky and fury.

It drilled through the air, twisting as it struck, driving into the flayers.

The creatures never stood a chance.

The sandstorm ripped through them. Armored shells cracked, shattered, and eroded into nothing as the point of the whirlwind tore through their bodies. Blood splattered the ground as she flung their remains across the pit.

Vesryn went limp, a shudder wracking his frame as he sagged, the manacles on his wrists the only thing holding him upright.

Serenna’s gaze flicked to his legs—a mangled ruin of flesh and bone. Acid scorched the back of her throat before she wrenched her eyes away.

He was bleeding out and she’d only bought seconds.

As she panted through her nose, Serenna locked onto the key that glinted like salvation—their fragile chance at survival hanging at the druid’s wrist. Determination burned away the exhaustion that dragged at her limbs. Everything else faded as she focused on that shining lifeline.

Serenna seized the wind again, coiling the currents into a tight funnel. With a savage crack, she snapped the gale at the druid leader.

The female’s eyes were already bulging before the lash of air wrapped around the key. Serenna yanked on her power, ripping it free from the chain on her arm.

Stumbling forward, the druid’s composure faltered for the first time. Her lips parted as the key streaked through the air, plummeting like a shooting star before slapping straight into Lykor’s waiting palm.

His fingers clenched around it, strands of his matted hair whipped back from the gust.

Their eyes met.

Lykor’s flared with something fierce—approval, or, more likely, the same desperate hope.

But there was no time to bask in this small victory. The four of them were still fettered. And judging from the sound of rustling wings, the druids were stirring.

Lykor jammed the key into a shackle. A click , and the restraint snapped open, metal clattering against the pillar as it swung loose on its chain. He moved to the other manacle. The instant he tore his claw free, shadows detonated.

Darkness ruptured outward, a cataclysmic surge billowing like wildfire. But he didn’t strike. Serenna realized it the same moment he must have—the Starshard would only absorb his power and hurl it back at them.

Rather than obliterating the druids, he cast the rending wide. A bastion of shadows surrounded the four pillars, muting the sun, but allowing enough light to see. The air instantly cooled, providing a fleeting relief.

Serenna braced for the Starshard’s wail, the retaliation that would rip through Lykor’s defenses. But the world held its breath as he stumbled toward Jassyn, the key clutched tightly in his fist.

Beyond the veil of shadows, there was a muffled thud. Serenna’s heart lurched. Another followed. Then a cascade, like boulders dropping into the sand in relentless succession.

The druids landed, encircling them, close enough for Serenna to hear the grit shifting under their feet.

Lykor was fumbling, freeing Jassyn too slowly. He’d never reach her or the prince before the druids shattered his barrier.

She couldn’t wait on him—every second dragged them closer to ruin. She had to help.

Thoughts racing in frantic circles, Serenna turned to the chains that cascaded down Vesryn’s pillar, grasping for a solution. A memory surfaced from her time with the wraith—Fenn droning on about gold-plated weapons. How gold was pliable, weak for a metal. The links holding Vesryn weren’t invincible.

Nerves frayed with unbound fear, Serenna trembled, every muscle drawn taut. Summoning the wind once more, a tempest surged to life in the pocket of darkness. Sand churned as the currents collected it, spinning into a serrated storm.

One last time.

Serenna poured her remaining fury and defiance into it, twisting the cyclone tighter. The wind screamed with her, a spiraling force of destruction. With a desperate thrust, she flung the raging mass at the peak of Vesryn’s pillar, aiming for the chains.

The storm plunged downward. It slammed into the links, grinding, raking, devouring.

She drove the point of the tempest faster, a thousand relentless knives carving deep, peeling layers of gold. Metal shrieked as sand scoured its surface. A single link groaned—almost giving, almost breaking.

Pain splintered through Serenna’s skull and darkness crowded the edges of her vision. Swaying in her shackles, she shoved it back, holding on.

Not now. Not when she was so close. She wrenched on her magic harder.

With a deafening crack , the chains snapped and shattered. They crashed to the sand around the prince, billowing up a puff of dust. Vesryn toppled forward, crumpling into the blood-stained earth.

Jassyn—finally freed—stumbled past her, dropping to the prince’s side with mending light spilling from his hands in flickering bursts.

Serenna slumped against her bindings as the wind collapsed with her. She fought against the pull of unconsciousness, shaking her head to clear the haze as Lykor unlocked her shackles.

The moment the restraints fell away, her legs buckled. She staggered into him, slamming against his chest to catch herself.

Fenn’s presence reignited in her mind. He was alive—and nearby. He wasn’t tethered, but his awareness was dimmed, a candle flame struggling against the smothering dark.

“Fenn…” Serenna’s voice was a plea, his name a lump in her throat. Her fingers tightened around Lykor’s arm as she held herself upright.

Lykor’s expression was hewn from stone, his eyes flashing with a dangerous gleam, a promise of violence. “We’ll come back for him.” Jaw tight, he shook free from her grasp and stalked toward the prince.

Serenna’s heart caved in, her lips parting in protest, but he was right—there was no time. She tried to reach Fenn’s mind through the bond, but he didn’t answer.

We’ll come back for you, she promised.

With Jassyn’s help, Lykor freed Vesryn from his bindings. As soon as the gold lifted from the prince’s skin, his agony crashed into Serenna’s senses—a tidal wave of pain.

She nearly fainted from the force of it, like he had. Fighting to stay alert, she clenched her teeth, separating his suffering from her mind.

Lykor gathered Vesryn’s limp and bloodied form. He grunted as he rose with the prince slung over his shoulders, his own legs unsteady, bare feet sliding in the sand.

Only now did Serenna wonder what the druids were waiting for. An unnatural silence had clotted around the veil of darkness, but surely they would strike.

Just as Lykor tore open a portal, the stillness shattered.

The Starshard screamed on the other side of Lykor’s shadows. Serenna flinched. Time slowed, the pitch climbing. Each second stretched as she braced herself for the blow that would end them.

“Get through the portal!” Lykor barked, his harsh command a distant shout.

Serenna stumbled toward the gateway, each step searing like she was walking on coals.

A blade of light tore through the darkness. Her stomach flipped as the rending unraveled and sunlight flooded back over them.

Serenna blinked, the female druid coming into focus in the brightness. She stood with her claw extended, jewelry hovering in the air where Lykor’s barrier had been.

Serenna stopped in her tracks.

But not because of the Starshard. Something else stole the breath from her lungs.

The druids were kneeling.

Hundreds, spread out across the sand. Wings folded tight, heads bowed low. At the forefront stood the female—the orchestrator of their torment. Slowly, she lowered her arm, her white robes fluttering in the breeze.

Disbelief clamped around Serenna’s chest. She hardly dared to breathe. Her eyes darted to Jassyn and Lykor, searching for confirmation—proof that they saw it too. That her mind hadn’t broken and fabricated an illusion.

Even Lykor had gone still, his lip curled in a silent snarl. Jassyn stood just as rigid, mouth parted as if words had abandoned him entirely.

Before Serenna could make any sense of it, the leader dropped to her knees. She unclasped the jewelry from her wrist, the Starshard and its ornaments trembling in her grip as she lifted them toward Serenna.

Lykor’s growl cut through the silence. “It could be a trap.” Shadows writhed around him, coiling like his suspicion. “We need to leave.”

“They already had the chance to kill us,” Jassyn murmured, eyes flicking over the prostrating druids.

“And we’re still stretching our necks across the chopping block by lingering,” Lykor gritted out as he hefted the prince on his shoulders. But despite his words, he made no move toward the portal.

Serenna’s gaze swept across the druids, searching for the slightest flicker of deceit. But nothing stirred, their faces remaining downcast.

When the leader finally spoke, her voice was no longer cold—it quivered on the cusp of fear. “We are the remnant,” she whispered, her repeated words fragile yet steeped in reverence. Her eyes slowly met Serenna’s, the vertical pupils shifting to full circles. “For a thousand years, we’ve been vigilant wardens of Asharyn, this sacred city. We have awaited the New Dawn—the rise of the children of earth and starlight.”

Serenna barely breathed as the druid’s words struck her, a revelation sinking into her bones. The children of earth and starlight. The same phrase the dragon in the Heart had used when it had first spoken to her.

Those like her and Jassyn. Shaman and elf. Blood woven from both worlds.

Hesitantly, the female crawled forward, the Starshard clutched in her talons. Serenna stiffened, her heart slamming wildly against her ribs. The druid’s shaking fingers reached toward her bare feet, but Serenna recoiled, shuffling back.

The leader didn’t pursue further. Instead, her claws fell limply to the sand, her forehead touching the ground. She placed the gem before her, shoving the jewelry forward like some offering of peace.

“Forgive us,” she whispered. “We are yours to command.”