Serenna barely had time to exhale before Jassyn mumbled, “I’ll make sure he comes back in one piece.” He peeled a purring Aiko off his shoulders, her wings fluttering briefly as he handed the vulpintera to the prince.
Vesryn’s nostrils flared, but he gave a curt nod, flicking his wrist to summon a cloak from the pile Lykor had raided. Jassyn caught the furs midair, clutching them to his chest before darting through the rift.
CHAPTER 24
SERENNA
Serenna glanced between the prince and the portal, which remained open longer than expected. Jassyn, of all people—measured, deliberate, and cautious—had hurled himself into the unknown after Lykor.
“Do you think they’ll be all right?” Serenna dared to ask, staring at the rift, expecting Jassyn to be flung back through it.
“Jassyn can handle himself,” Vesryn said, scratching Aiko under her chin as the vulpintera purred softly in his arms. “But keeping Lykor alive? That’s the real challenge—especially if Lykor is star-bent on exploring the Wastes alone.”
Vesryn shook his head and strode toward Thalaesyn and the magus. He joined their conversation, low voices fading into the background—a discussion of needed supplies. Serenna didn’t linger to catch more.
Everyone else had their purpose, their vital role in this shifting war, but she…
Well, she had brazenly declared to Lykor that she was the most qualified to find the Heart, so now she’d follow through. His entire plan hinged on gathering more relics to free the dragons—their only hope to counter the king’s growing power. Whether Lykor liked it or not, he couldn’t do it all alone.
She’d uncover the Heart beforeLykor finished crossing the Wastes. And not because he’d find it “useful,” but to prove to herself that she could.
Serenna stepped out of the tree, purpose crystallizing with each stride, her boots crunching against the pathway of stones. The warm air settled around her, thick with the scent of damp soil and moss.
She wove around Naru, who was sprawled in the grass, claws scything the air as he rolled onto his back, sending tufts of greenery flying. Much calmer now, Trella lay nestled in the curve of thick roots, one eye cracked open to watch her mate frolic.
“Serenna.”
She halted as Vesryn’s voice broke the stillness. Turning, the jungle seemed to hold its breath around her—leaves barely whispering in the canopy above, splintering sunlight across the forest floor.
Aiko sprang from the prince’s arms, leathery wings beating in quick bursts as she soared into the towering trees. Naru’s eyes pinned with interest, keen and unblinking as he tracked the vulpintera. She landed gracefully on a low-hanging branch, tiny paws weaving nimbly through the tangled vines.
Serenna’s pulse quickened when Vesryn reached her side, the world shrinking to the space between them. With last night’s chaos and this morning’s frantic efforts, every moment since they’d entered the jungle had been a blur. They had barely spoken, their paths crossing only in brief glances, both consumed by their own tasks.
Vesryn opened his mouth but hesitated, uncertainty shadowing his eyes. Slowly, he reached out, his fingers skimming a trail along her arm.
Her power stirred involuntarily, a spark igniting. Serenna drew a shuddering breath, the humid air clinging to her lungs.
She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed this—missedhim—until now. Stolen moments of fleeting touches, the push and pull of their unresolved tension, the charge of magic racing between them. The absence had hollowed her, leaving a void she hadn’t fully acknowledged.
“I felt you tug on the bond,” the prince murmured, his gaze capturing hers. “Last night, when I was at the stables.” He shook his head, eyes unfocusing on the dracovae. “If we hadn’t been under attack, I would have—”
“I know,” Serenna cut in gently, brushing aside the apology he didn’t owe. “I’m sorry about the rangers you lost.”
Regret settled over Vesryn like a heavy cloak as his fingers slipped from her arm. The silence constricted her throat, his sorrow engulfing the bond. She hated how they stood so close, yet how vast the chasm between them felt.
“It wasn’t your fault,” Serenna said, her hand finding his, wishing she could pull him free from the undertow of his doubts. She squeezed his fingers, willing him to see that he was stronger than his failures, better than the shadows he couldn’t shake off.
“They trusted me to lead them,” Vesryn whispered, his voice trembling like the leaves rustling above. “And I failed them, just like I failed my brother.” His jaw tightened, the lines of his face drawn taut with guilt. “Lykor is right,” he mumbled to himself, shoulders curving in as if bracing against his own words. “I have no business leading.”
Serenna scoffed, making no effort to temper her scorn. “That’s not true. Lykor is cruel because he can’t stand theinconvenienceof being questioned—especially by someone who might be right.” She tightened her palm around his. “You’re still the prince we need—thatIneed.”
The bleakness in Vesryn’s eyes ebbed as he stepped closer, cupping her cheek. “I haven’t even managed to do that right.” His thumb traced a tender path, leaving an arc of tinglingwarmth in its wake. “Nothing has turned out how I thought it would and…I don’t even know if I can do this without you.”
“You won’t have to,” Serenna whispered, searching the emerald depths of his eyes.
Vesryn’s lips nearly curved, but the effort withered before it could fully form. His touch lingered for a heartbeat longer before his hand fell away.
He wasn’t the same and neither was she. Distance, circumstance, and time had chiseled them into shapes that no longer aligned. The foundation they’d once stood on had crumbled—but he was still here, still willing to try.
