Lykor interrupted their reunion with a low growl, nearly compelled to slap their palms apart and put an end to their petting. “Explain to me whyyou’vebeen here, treated like a king.”
Fenn chewed on a lip ring, his gaze drifting away from Serenna’s to meet Lykor’s glower. “The servants insisted that I couldn’t leave to find her—supposedly for my own safety.” His voice sharpened. “They thought I was under the influence of her magics.”
Serenna scoffed, plucking a grape from one of his trays. “Because you’re a wraith like them? Did they not realize that you have Essence too?”
“I tried to explain,” Fenn insisted, his claw tightening around her hand. A trace of anger simmered in his eyes. “They wouldn’t listen. Or didn’t understand. When I warped off that balcony to search for you”—he waved toward the nearest patio—“they riddled me with those darts until I collapsed.”
Lykor’s shoulders twitched. Irritating. But plausible enough.
With Serenna’s help, Fenn managed to stand on the next attempt, his legs still unsteady beneath him. Raking his talons through his hair, he shook off the last dredges of haze before flashing Lykor a grin.
“Why haven’t we thought of using venom in our weapons?” he asked. “Do you think we could learn their process?”
“They owe us more than that.” Lykor tipped his chin toward Vesryn. “Speaking of venom, go sedate the prince. I’m sick of hearing him moan.”
“I heard that,” Vesryn snapped across the room, perking up from his couch.
With a strained heave, he propped himself up on an elbow, Jassyn’s mending light spiraling around him.
“I’ll have you know I can’t even feel my toes,” he hissed. Slipping a hand under his knee, he hoisted a mangled leg. His bloody robe slipped down his thigh as he waved his foot theatrically. “Because they’re fuckinggone!”
Lykor rolled his eyes at the inconsequential loss. “You’re only missingtwo.” Reassessing, his mouth tightened. “And a half.” Maybe the lackwit would finally learn some caution—even someone with Jassyn’s skill couldn’t regrow bones. “It’s a shame the druids didn’t think to string up you by the ankles. Those flayers could have relieved us of your tongue instead.”
Vesryn flopped back into the pillows with a huff, the cushions swallowing him as he flipped a finger in Lykor’s direction. “I won’t be able to walk the same.” He sighed dramatically, draping his forearm back over his eyes. “But that’s not even the worst part.” Peeking from beneath his arm, he shot Lykor another scowl. “I’ll never forgive those winged snakes for letting my dick blister in the sun. And poor Jassyn had to—”
“Unfortunately,Iwas also in the carriage when you prioritized your injuries,” Lykor grumbled, dismissing the memory with a grimace. Any sense of modesty had long since been stripped from them, another casualty of their collective suffering.
Lykor’s gaze lingered on Jassyn, tracking the faint tremor in his fingers as he poured his remaining strength into theprince. Between using coercion on that fucking bird and being shackled under the sun, it was clear that he swayed on the edge of exhaustion. It showed in the uncharacteristic slump of his shoulders, the fatigue pooling in bruised crescents under his eyes.
Movements still clumsy, Fenn finally lumbered across the room with Serenna’s help.
Vesryn’s voice lashed through the air. “You arenotbiting me.” Mouth set in a stubborn line, he glared as Fenn slid beside him on the couch.
“The venom will numb your injuries,” Fenn insisted, eyes dancing with delight.
“I’ve had my fill of being gnawed on,” Vesryn clipped, failing to shove the lieutenant off his perch. “Thanks to Jassyn’s coercion mind trick, the pain is dulled enough.”
Patience shattering, Lykor didn’t think. He folded in on himself and warped.
Reappearing directly over the prince, he struck. Vesryn barely had time to blink before Lykor seized him by the robe, talons gouging holes into the delicate silk. The prince startled, lips parting in protest.
Too late.
Lykor hauled him up, nose-to-nose, flashing fangs in his face.
“Jassyn needs to rest too,” he growled, eyes boring into the prince. “He can mend faster if he’s not wasting half his focus holding together that fucking web of magic on your skull.”
He could feel Jassyn’s silence beside him—the way he stifled his own discomfort like it was just an inconvenience. Lykor all but bristled, ready to combust.
“You’ll let Fenn do what he does best,” Lykor seethed, shaking the prince hard enough to rattle his teeth. “And if you don’t, I promise you won’t appreciate what happens when I take matters into my own hands.”
Jaw clenched, Vesryn met Lykor’s glare before his eyes drifted to Jassyn, who was still dutifully channeling his power. Perhaps through their bond he finally registered his cousin’s weariness.
Vesryn audibly ground his teeth before forcing out, “I can bear the pain.”
“Doubtful.” Lykor released him, slicing a hand toward Fenn in silent command. “You’ve already passed out twice.”
“You know,” Fenn mused, slowly tracing a talon up Vesryn’s arm before shooting Serenna a wink. “I’ve been wondering if you taste as decadent as my she-elf.”
