Jassyn snorted, and Lykor’s eyes swooped to him before he could stop himself. Jassyn’s lips twitched, the subtle motion snagging Lykor like a hook. Vesryn spluttered somethingnonsensical that Lykor didn’t register—he was too caught in the steady orbit of amber eyes.
Jassyn’s mouth parted, but Lykor—the coward he was—didn’t give him the chance to speak. Jaw tight, he wrenched his gaze away and strode through the archway after Serenna. Fleeing.
Something was faulty with that stupid organ in his chest, battering against his ribs like it wanted out. Perhaps he’d stoop low enough to ask the girl to assess it.
CHAPTER 48
LYKOR
Lykor shoved Serenna between the shoulder blades, steering her farther along the balcony—away from keen ears and prying eyes.
“Watch the sunburn,” she hissed, twisting out of reach. She folded her arms, winced, and then let them drop. “What do you want?”
Lykor positioned himself in front of the archway, blocking the path back indoors. Below, in their private courtyard, ivory fountains spilled lazily into turquoise pools. Manicured gardens bloomed in a riot of color, the scent of jasmine curling through the air.
“I’ll mend you if you mend me,” he said.
“You can’t wait for Jassyn?” Serenna tilted her chin in that infuriatingly defiant way. “He’s—”
“He’s already pushing himself too much,” Lykor growled. “Or is a sunburn beyond your meager skill?”
“Just admit that you’re embarrassed to have him heal your—”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Lykor snapped, baring his fangs.
Serenna’s unsettling eyes flicked to the tips of his ears. Traitorous, they flushed dark with heat. And of course she smirked. Gloating after she hit her mark.
With a pointed sniff, she extended her palm, as if bestowing him some great favor.
Already regretting this, Lykor set his jaw and snatched her hand, squeezing more tightly than necessary. Mending light unfurled between them, winding around their clasped palms before spiraling up each other’s arms.
Ignoring her probing gaze, Lykor focused on channeling the magic, drawing from Aesar’s knowledge. They worked in silence, crimson strands weaving between them, smoothing away the sun’s vicious bite.
“I didn’t see much on the carriage ride,” Serenna began. Of course she felt the need to engage in idle chatter. “But I bet the druids have a market somewhere.”
Lykor sensed her watching him, waiting for something. But he didn’t indulge her remark. Bartering for exotic trinkets and useless clutter held no interest for him.
“Jassyn likes ridiculously sweetened candies,” she continued, undeterred. Lykor stiffened, and her eyes darted back to their clasped palms as if she hadn’t noticed. “Chocolates and anything with honey.” Rolling a wave of ruby light over his back, Serenna hummed in thought. “And silver jewelry—ear cuffs, not rings—something with leaves or vines. Speaking of plants, maybe they’d have…”
Lykor didn’t hear her prattling as his magic stuttered to a stop, the crimson threads flickering over her arms. Jassyn used to wear plated cuffs. Delicate silver ivy that curled along the shell of his ears. But he didn’t anymore.
Practical not to, Lykor supposed. No need for ornamentation when you were displaced and on the run. But he’d liked them. Trivial details. Irrelevant.
Lykor interrupted whatever the girl was rambling about. “You’re burdening me with this nonsense because…?”
Serenna shrugged, her smile infuriatingly knowing. He narrowed his eyes as she shifted her grip, trapping his palm between both of hers. “Just in case you felt inclined to gift him something beyond your sharp words.”
Lykor ripped his limb free. “Why would I want to do that?”
Serenna sighed, the last traces of her mending light winking out. She fiddled absently with one of the ribbons on her robe, her calculating look only stoking his irritation.
Lykor exhaled, shoving his thoughts aside so he could steer the conversation back to his original purpose of—
“I approve, you know.”
He flinched, the words landing like a blow he hadn’t braced for.
“I don’t need your approval,” Lykor fired back. “And there’s nothing to approveof.”
