SERENNA
Serenna’s steps slowed at the sight of Trella pacing around a tree.
The dracovae’s feathers shimmered like frost, reflecting the sunlight filtering through the canopy. She restlessly prowled over gnarled roots, talons scraping furrows into the earth.
If Trella was here and this agitated… There was only one explanation.
For a fleeting moment, Serenna considered turning around as Lykor’s voice thundered from within the tree, his anger a sharp-edged torrent.
The ground trembled, the sudden jolt making Serenna jump. With a dramatic chuff that rustled the leaves above, Trella dropped to her belly, long neck snaking forward to peer through the opening.
Gathering her courage, Serenna lobbed the apples she was carrying toward the beast, unsure if dracovae even ate anything besides meat. The fruits landed with dull thuds and rolled past Trella, the offering utterly ignored.
With bated breath, Serenna inched around the dracovae, who seemed more fixated on Lykor than her.
“I don’t care if you wiped Aesar’s ass when he was still swaddled,” Lykor snapped at Thalaesyn as Serenna slipped into the hollow trunk. “Yourassociationwith Mara and her family means less to me than dracovae dung.” Lykor stalked closer to the magister, boots thumping against the polished wood. “If you’re with us, you’re undermycommand. If you disagree—”
A muscle ticked in Lykor’s cheek as Jassyn drifted away from a cluster of magus tending to injured wraith in makeshift cots.
Lykor ignored him, swinging his gaze back to the magister. Threads of viridian light pulsed through the ancient bark, sharpening the angles of his jaw. “If you refuse to follow my orders, I won’t hesitate to send you through a portal to the capital’s prisons.” His voice lowered, darker than an abyss. “Or perhaps you’d prefer becoming acquainted with the mountain dungeons where Galaeryn kept the wraith—where he denied us even the shadows of stars.”
Serenna winced as Lykor drove a gauntleted finger into Thalaesyn’s chest, each jab punctuating his words. “Then you’d understand what we felt—what your arrogance cost us.” His eyes blazed like an inferno. “Galaeryn never would have learned how to pilfer power if you hadn’t paved the way and created the wraith first!”
Thalaesyn stepped out of Lykor’s reach, the words lingering between them like a rotting wound. “If I had known—” The magister shook his head, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I was trying to reverse the sterility curse. I thought…I truly thought I was helping our people.”
“Helping?” Lykor’s scoff was drier than ash. “Did that delusionhelpyou sleep at night? All you did was hand Galaeryn the key to an endless source of power!”
Thalaesyn dragged a hand through his golden hair, face contorted with guilt. “Do you think I don’t know that?” His voicelowered, barely above a whisper. “I carry that weight every day. I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to atone.”
Serenna knew his apology wouldn’t matter. Regret was powerless against the past, and Lykor’s fury left no room for forgiveness.
Lykor let out a harsh breath, the metal of his gauntlet grinding under the strain of his clenching fist. Scowling at his armor, his fingers curled tighter, like he’d rather be crushing the magister’s throat.
His eyes refocused, flaring as they landed back on Thalaesyn. “Did you know Galaeryn claims to hear the voices of the Aelfyn?” Lip curling, Lykor gestured to his head. “It began after his eyes turned silver. He’s convinced they’re speakingto him—giving him commands.”
Serenna shuddered at the terrifying thought.Voices of the Aelfyn?Lykor might be volatile, but at least the voice in his head was real.
Lykor’s words dripped sarcastic venom. “Galaeryn believes he’schosen. That if he offers theseAeflynanother source of power—or enough pilfered Essence—they’ll reward him with a place at their side among the stars.”
His voice shook, fury fraying the edges as he bit out through his teeth, “So if you want to ‘atone’ and help stop his reign, then you can start by following my orders. Return to Alari. We need to reclaim that fucking Heart.”
So that’s what this was about.
Serenna bit her lip, swallowing the urge to remind him that they still had a relic—now under Mara’s watch. But Lykor’s temper burned too hot for reason, and she doubted he would care about anything beyond reclaiming the one they’d lost.
But if the king used the relic Ayla had stolen, the consequences could be catastrophic. Serenna understoodLykor’s dread—the thought of the king freeing one of the chained dragons and twisting that ancient power to his will…
The threads of light in the tree flickered, pulsing like a heartbeat as Jassyn eased closer. The movement snagged Lykor’s attention, his eyes narrowing to slits. Serenna tensed as his fangs flashed, but Jassyn didn’t flinch.
“I agree with Thalaesyn,” Jassyn began slowly, holding out a palm as if soothing a wild animal. “Returning to Centarya—or the capital—is a risk that accomplishes nothing.” He shook his head, brushing curls away from his face as he met Lykor’s scalding stare. “Wherever that Heart is, it’s beyond our reach. And if we’re caught…” Jassyn hesitated, glancing at Nelya, who beckoned Thalaesyn back to aid a wounded warrior. “The king would tear the location of this jungle from us. We’d lose more lives—and the other Heart.”
Tension coiled in Lykor’s neck as Serenna watched him wrestle with that thought. His fists clenched at his sides as if sheer force could crush his frustration into submission. Jassyn was right and Lykor knew it.
A twinge of sympathy pierced her. For all his rage and cutting words, Lykor’s greatest flaw was the burden of his care, as if the fate of their people balanced entirely on his shoulders. It wasn’t just pride that made him lash out—it was fear. Fear of failing those he’d sworn to protect. Fear of watching everything he’d fought for crumble to dust.
“I could start searching for the Heart here,” Serenna offered, stepping forward. Her pulse quickened under Lykor’s scowl, but she kept her voice steady, providing him a way out—a chance to pivot without surrendering.
Lykor crossed his arms over his armor, rolling his eyes. “I’ve searched for weeks and found nothing. What makes you think you’ll do any better?”
