“What the bleeding stars is going on here?” the prince demanded, whirling toward the two portals where Mara and Thalaesyn calmly ushered the clans through.
A fresh surge of irritation ignited in Lykor’s chest, stoked hotter by the prince’s misplaced priorities. The dusty stables didn’t matter—not while his fortress crumbled and his warriors died to buy precious time. And fretting about the girl? Pathetic.
What does he mean the rangers were attacked?Aesar interjected, his voice a coil of concern in Lykor’s mind. He’d been restlessly pacing since the evacuation began, worry mounting with every passing moment.Nevermind. Every second we delay, the noose gets tighter. Vesryn won’t focus until you answer him. Just do it.
“Your fucking academy is invading my fortress.” Lykor flung an arm toward the battle’s distant cacophony, where screams and the clash of steel echoed through the caverns. “And the girl is following orders. Open more rifts to that druid jungle,” he barked. “I don’t have time to align your short-sighted priorities with the reality of our impending doom.”
Vesryn’s jaw tightened but Essence sparked to life as he obeyed without further argument. When four more portals spun into existence, Lykor allowed himself a shallow breath of relief.
Then Vesryn paled. “The—the jungle?” His gaze flicked to Jassyn, then back to Lykor. “That’s where I just sent the rangers and our wraith. Do your people even know we’re allies? What if—”
Lykor’s patience shattered like glass under a blow. “Then go through and regulate,Prince.” He shoved Vesryn toward the rifts.
The ground shook beneath him again as Essence roared through the stone. The warriors spilling their blood needed him,every drop a stain on his hands. This invasion—this chaos—was his fault and he needed to shield them from it.
But the terrified civilians clutching their wraithlings needed him too. If they didn’t make it out, their deaths would be his doing. He had to save them all.
We need to get to Kal,Aesar urged, the storm of his thoughts battering Lykor’s mind, the clipped echo of his boots striking across the library’s marble grating in Lykor’s skull.He said humans are everywhere. They can’t return and they’re getting slaughtered—
I’M WORKING ON IT,Lykor bit back, agitation bucking against his ribs.
His threats had been hollow and Aesar knew it. They weren’t leaving anyone behind—not even Kal. Especially not while the blathering fool still carried their other Heart of Stars.
Lykor brushed the relic resting in his pocket, a reminder of what was at stake. He ground his fangs, cursing himself for the folly of relying on someone else—he should have kept them both.
Fingers clenching, Vesryn took a step back toward the overlook, away from the portals—away from where Lykor needed him. “I have to go to Serenna.”
Lykor seized the prince’s tunic, yanking him forward until their faces were inches apart. “I’ll bring her back—along with everyone else,” he growled. “For now, she’s with the lieutenant and he’ll die before anything happens to her.” Vesryn’s nostrils flared but Lykor railed on. “You’re neededhere.” His muscles tensed, ready to drag Vesryn through the portal if necessary. Or, stars fucking forbid, beg Mara to deal with her unruly son. “Keep order in the jungle. If we’re overrun, I need you to dissolve the portals.”
Lykor didn’t wait for the prince’s reply as he pushed him away. Twisting on his heel, he stalked to the edge of the viewpoint, where the fortress clung to the volcano’s slopes.Its tiered levels jutted from the rock, stone pathways winding between towers anchored deep into the mountain’s bones.
From the lower streets, the roar of mortal voices surged upward, tangling with the clash of steel as they slammed into the wraith protecting the retreat.
Aesar received a vision and it flashed in Lykor’s mind—a fleeting glimpse of Kal and his warriors pinned between humans pouring through the unsealed tunnels. From above, archers unleashed relentless volleys, raining death—obstructing any chance of warping.
Flayed by frustration, Lykor’s shoulders twitched. Portaling closer wasn’t an option—the prince had just proven the risk by nearly splitting him in two. He needed to warp, but efficiency demanded vantage. His gaze latched onto an archway spanning the upper levels. From there, he could map the quickest route.
Steering his awareness to the center of his chest, Lykor folded in on himself. Something clamped around his arm just before he warped.
He wasn’t alone.
Boots struck stone—two pairs. Jassyn stumbled beside him as they reappeared a hundred paces higher. Lykor whipped his hand out, snarling a curse—half at Jassyn, half at himself for seizing the elf’s leathers and hauling him back from the ledge.
Jassyn’s eyes darted across their precarious perch, widening as he stared at the abyss below. The blood drained from his face as he met Lykor’s glare, swallowing hard before managing to speak.
“Vesryn sent me to help you.” He extended the prince’s sheathed blades. “Well, to make sure Serenna is safe.”
Aesar perked up, recognizing his glaives from a life long past.We could use his help.
Lykor ignored him but accepted the weapons. As he slung the leather strap mechanically across his spine, his gaze flicked to Jassyn’s face.
Blood. A faint smear streaked his cheek.
It didn’t matter.
Yet his eyes hunted for an injury, finding none. An ember of relief kindled—unwanted and swiftly smothered under scorn. Whatever had happened to Jassyn at the stables was irrelevant. Letting anything beyond hate surface felt like a betrayal after everything Jassyn had done.
You don’t have to like him,Aesar continued, his tone sharper now.But he’s not the king. His talents are an asset.
