Jassyn.
Fierce hatred ricocheted through him, drawing out an animalistic growl. It didn’t matter how this was possible—how he’d survived. The elf who’d freed him from the king’s clutches dared to wield that same vile power, asserting dominance over him. Again.
He bared his fangs, muscles tensing with resolve. Rending wouldn’t suffice. This needed to be brutal. Personal.
Moving before hesitation could take root—before reason could tame his fury—Lykor lunged. His fist became a metallic blur, gauntlet smashing into Jassyn’s face.
The savage blow sent the elf flying backward, collapsing against a wall in an unmoving heap. But there was no time for celebration. He still had something else to destroy and the others needed to be subdued before they could react.
Shadows exploded from Lykor, binding everyone in the courtyard where they stood. He had moments, only moments, especially with the prince already hacking away at his magic.
Lykor’s ears rang, distantly aware of shouts, but his focus homed in on the girl. He stalked toward her, shoving damp hair from his eyes, bristling at the soaked clothes clinging to his skin.
Her eyes widened, perhaps expecting the same fate as Jassyn. But instead, Lykor clamped his hand around her arm. She only managed a gasp as he ravaged their bond.
A thunderous crack tore through his chest, shattering something deep within. The bridge between their Wells fractured as he sundered the connection, freeing himself. It was that easy—a simple choice.
Rage burned Lykor’s lungs, his breaths coming in ragged heaves. Already dismissing the girl, his gaze flicked briefly toJassyn’s motionless form, blood pooling around his head. He didn’t care.
But he couldn’t stay. The others had allowed Jassyn’s transgression—sanctioned this violation. They wouldn’t stop until Lykor was ground to nothing but dust, a disregarded casualty in their desperate bid to reclaim their precious Aesar.
The ruined courtyard seemed to close in. Suffocating. Imprisoning. He had to escape. Vanish where no one else could follow.
Drawing on the deepest reserves of his power, Lykor stretched his magic to the point of breaking, desperation driving his need to put every possible mile between himself and this place. The air ruptured as a portal ripped open. Without a backward glance, Lykor prowled into the void and disappeared.
CHAPTER 5
SERENNA
Lykor’s binding shadows disintegrated the moment his portal snapped shut behind him. The place in Serenna’s mind where his presence had been a roiling storm of fury now lay hollow, a chasm of loss she hadn’t braced for. There wasn’t pain, but the absence stung—a wound without a mark.
Vesryn dashed to Jassyn’s side, his dismay slicing through her disorientation. The prince dropped to his knees, hands splayed against the blood-slick cobblestones. Eyes wild and stricken, he gathered Jassyn’s broken form into his arms.
Serenna’s heart clenched, pounding into a terrified rhythm. Her vision tunneled to the wreckage of Jassyn’s face. Skull caved in, the left side was hardly recognizable. And what she could make out—splintered bone, muscles shredded and slack—sent her stomach heaving. Clamping a hand over her lips, she choked back her shock as Jassyn’s blood trickled over Vesryn’s fingers, splashing onto the stones.
Serenna lurched forward to join the prince, her hands shaking as she summoned Essence, mending light sputtering weakly. Unsure where to begin, she battled to maintain control as fear scattered her focus.
Fenn knelt beside her, a steady claw against her back, his own apprehension pouring through the bond. She could barely believe his touch—and the impossible fact that he’d survived.
“Your friend…” Fenn’s voice faltered, crimson eyes tracing every irreparable wound. “He won’t make it unless you work your magics now.”
The words jolted her. He was right, but Vesryn’s reply was a snarl. “Don’t you think we know that?”
Serenna forced herself to breathe past the horror crowding her throat. “We need to stop the bleeding first.” Her gaze fell to Jassyn’s shattered face. “But I…I don’t know how to reconstruct bone.”
With a curse, Vesryn gently placed Jassyn back on the ground and wrenched himself away. Staggering to his feet, he ripped open a portal. “Keep him breathing,” he ordered.
Before Serenna could ask how, he vanished into the rift. Left with no time to wonder where—or why—the prince had disappeared, she gripped Jassyn’s hand, clinging to the fading warmth.
His intact eye was squeezed shut, brows twisted in agony. Her heart ached at every fractured detail—the tremor in his fingers against hers, the faint whimpers slipping through his clenched teeth.
“I wish I could do something for the pain,” she whispered, spooling threads of mending light into the wound. Doing what little she could, she stitched around the splintered edges of bone and knitted ruptured vessels.
Fenn placed a claw on Jassyn’s chest, teeth dragging over a lip ring as he tracked her magic. “I can help,” he said, words low and urgent. “If I give him enough venom, he won’t feel a thing.”
He caught Serenna’s gaze, wordlessly seeking her consent in Jassyn’s place.
She swallowed hard, the weight of fear heavy in her throat. “Do it.”
