Page 9

CHAPTER 9

SERENNA

I n her bedchamber, Serenna slipped into a silk nightgown, the fabric feeling weightless against her skin. Across the room, with a towel slung distractingly low on his hips, Fenn wandered to the blinds. Shadows swallowed the first blush of sunlight as he pulled each curtain closed.

Serenna perched on the edge of the bed, curling her fingers into the blankets as Fenn tossed his towel on a hook and swaggered toward her. Despite herself, she shamelessly stared at the exposed contours of his body, his lean strength etched with a tapestry of scars.

“Let me take a wild guess,” Serenna said, her cheeks heating as she steered her eyes away from the hollow of his hips and back to the smug tilt of his mouth. “You sleep naked, don’t you?”

Fenn’s smirk slowly unfurled as he shrugged. “I see no reason to imprison myself in fabric while I slumber.”

Serenna rolled her eyes, though a smile tugged at her lips. But whatever retort she’d been about to unleash dissolved on her tongue as hesitation flickered across his face.

Fenn rubbed the back of his neck, the nervous motion betraying what his steady voice didn’t. “May I comb your hair?”

Serenna blinked at the unexpected offer. It had been weeks since anyone had tended to her—and even then, the handmaidens in Vaelyn had acted out of duty.

But there was a quiet significance to his words that made it feel like more than just an idle gesture. Whatever it meant, Serenna could tell that it mattered. Her chest tightened and she nodded.

Forgoing her brush, Fenn settled on the bed behind her, his talons threading through her hair with an intimate gentleness. Each careful stroke sent tingles racing across her scalp, unraveling the tension from the night.

Serenna closed her eyes as the rhythmic pull steadied her, loosening more than just the tangles in her hair. She let herself drift, indulging in the moment. But the reprieve slipped away, fleeting as stars fading at dawn.

Although Fenn was showering her with unwavering care, she sensed an undercurrent of unease and sorrow—a muted ache lingering in his heart.

The evening had been merciless to him. Aside from him nearly dying, his sister—the one who’d led the reavers’ attack—was gone without a trace.

Serenna opened her eyes, angling toward him on the bed. “Fenn,” she said hesitantly, placing a hand on his knee. “Are you okay? After everything? After Taryn?”

He paused, his talons stilling mid-stroke. Silence stretched between them before Fenn sighed, his voice resigned. “She made her choice.”

“I…didn’t see what happened to her,” Serenna said. Her focus had been on him—not the reavers.

“It matters not,” Fenn murmured, resuming his steady glide through her hair. “Whether she met her fate in the shadows or disappeared through one of Lykor’s portals, her decision was made long before the battle.” He exhaled slowly, releasing some of the unspoken grief before his voice softened. “But knowing that doesn’t make it any easier to let go.”

“I’m sorry,” Serenna whispered, gently squeezing his knee. The words felt inadequate, but she had nothing else to offer.

“At least a few things turned out right tonight.” Fenn said, shifting before beginning to weave her hair in a loose braid. “I know how much it meant to you to see your princeling again.”

Serenna’s vision blurred, fingers digging into the sheets. Fenn’s sincerity tore at her, summoning remorse. He’d been a steady flame in the darkness, yet each step toward him felt like swinging a blade through the fragile thread that bound her to the prince. It wasn’t fair to him, her inability to decipher her own selfish desires.

What lingered between her and Vesryn—the care she felt when he appeared in the fortress—left her convinced that whatever existed between them wasn’t over. Serenna’s chest constricted, her heart a tangled snarl of yearning and guilt.

Fenn’s quiet curiosity brushed against her awareness, a gentle nudge that only heightened her hesitation. She was taking too long to speak, but the turmoil brewing within her was already exposed.

Fenn had laid his intentions bare weeks ago—his desire for her, his willingness to commit to her alongside his relationship with Koln. She trusted him, but she wasn’t quite sure how such an arrangement would work—or what that would mean for her and Vesryn.

Slowly, Serenna turned toward him. “Does it make me awful to still be thinking about the prince? To dwell on him while you’re here? And after we just…” Wincing, she trailed off, shame rising hot in her cheeks.

“I can sense that you’re troubled,” Fenn said quietly, pressing a claw lightly over her heart. “You need to talk to your princeling. Untangle this confusion and hurt.”

Serenna hesitated, her remorse coiling tighter. “What if…what if Vesryn and I decide that what’s between us is something worth exploring further?”

“Love isn’t some finite ember to hoard,” Fenn said, adjusting her plaited hair over her shoulder. “If your heart burns to kindle something with him, who am I to extinguish a flame that isn’t mine?”

Serenna shook her head. “How is all of this supposed to work with multiple partners?” Her voice faltered, though Fenn himself was proof that it was possible. “What if I get jealous when you’re with someone else?”

“Jealous?” he asked, cocking his head. “Isn’t jealousy simply fear wearing another face—fear of losing what you cherish?” He lightly grazed her wrist, rubbing his thumb over her palm. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Serenna studied their entwined hands, absorbing his reassurance. Fenn was everything she wanted—a foundation of trust and belonging, steady as the magic humming between them.

“You make it sound so easy,” she murmured, leaning into his touch.

“It’s not all the time.” Fenn chuckled, then sprawled out on his stomach, wrapping his arms around three pillows.

Serenna bit her lip, glancing away. Fenn’s right. Talking to Vesryn is the first step to figuring out whatever this is. She grabbed her brush from the nightstand and ran it gently through Fenn’s cascading strands. Burrowing deeper into the pillows, a low rumble of contentment escaped him as he closed his eyes.

After smoothing out his hair, Serenna slipped into bed beside him. Fenn rolled over, tucking her against his chest. His voice drifted into her mind, low and drowsy. Do you think we can dream together with these magics?

Serenna smiled, warmth blooming in her heart. As her eyes fluttered shut, her thoughts skimmed against Vesryn’s awareness, his proximity a quiet solace despite his emotional walls.

Tomorrow, she’d summon the courage to face him—if he was ready. She owed that to him, to Fenn, and to herself.