Lykor froze, his heart thrashing against its cage of bones even as his breath slowed.
Jassyn.
Every fiber of his being locked into place as though bound by steel. He dared not move, unwilling to wake the other male and twist this moment into something unbearably awkward.
And since this was Jassyn, that meant… They were still in the Wastes.
The memory of the storm lingered in splintered remnants—wind howling, ice slicing through the air. Floundering while Jassyn acted swiftly, barricading them in a sanctuary.
The soft crackle of melting snow whispered against the silence, pale light creeping in through the small opening in their shelter, its glow banishing the weight of the dark.
Dawn. They’d been here all night.
A brutal reckoning tore through Lykor, shredding his pride. The bitter taste of failure clung to his tongue.
He’d overreached, dragged them both into the jaws of danger. Because he was too scorching proud, too afraid of yielding. Of what weakness might mean. And now, after endangering them both, all he could do was lie here—indebted to Jassyn’s ingenuity, unworthy of his quiet care.
Lykor tried to ignore the heat flushing his skin and the pliant body molded against his chest. Surely it was the chill that had drawn them together, all but compelling their bodies to seek closeness in slumber. He was no stranger to such conditions. The mountain prisons had taught him the cruelty of cold, where he and the wraith had been forced to huddle like beasts, their only comfort the embrace of earth.
Ever so carefully, Lykor edged up on his elbow. Jassyn’s profile came into view—still, but not peaceful. Tension clung to the corners of his mouth and a wrinkle dented the space between his brows. Lykor willed his eyes away. But they became traitors, moths flying into flame.
They followed the graceful arch of Jassyn’s ear, half-hidden beneath inky curls. His gaze lingered too long, tracing the planes of Jassyn’s cheek.
With an unsteady breath, Lykor tore his eyes away, fixing them on the faint light filtering in through the snow. He refused to let himself sink into emotions that chipped away at his carefully constructed walls. Every instinct demanded retreat—to create distance, reclaim the barriers that defined him.
A faint pressure drew his attention to his claw, draped across Jassyn’s chest. Skin prickling, he tensed as Jassyn’s hand shifted—a featherlight touch that carried an unsettling weight.
His gauntlet was gone, leaving him exposed. Of course Aesar had meddled—how else would he be in this position?
Irritation flared as Lykor tunneled toward their Well, finding it restored. Grinding his fangs, he plunged his awareness inward, ready to berate his ever-conniving other half.
In their shared mindspace, Lykor stormed toward the library’s grand entrance. He hurled the double doors open, the crash thunderous as he barreled into the atrium.
Aesar lounged on a velvet couch by a sweeping window, Kyansari’s rising sun spilling light across his silvery hair. He stretched lazily, glancing up from a tome.Sleep well?
WHY DIDN’T YOU TAKE US BACK?Lykor demanded.
Aesar reclined further into the cushions, lacing his fingers behind his head.You can deal with the consequences for once instead of expecting me to clean up your mess.
Lykor’s shoulders twitched, his patience splintering under Aesar’s insolence.WHAT ABOUT THE MESSYOU’VEMADE?
Aesar shrugged, kicking an ankle over his knee, emerald eyes gleaming with smug amusement.He was shivering.
Lykor’s temper flared hotter.AND WHAT? YOU THOUGHT WARMING HIM UP WAS A BRILLIANT IDEA?
He fell asleep,Aesar said matter-of-factly, as if that could quiet the storm raging through Lykor.And frankly, he shouldn’t have to suffer for your stupidity.
THEN YOU SHOULD’VE TAKEN HIM BACK TO THE JUNGLE!Lykor roared as he threw out an arm, his fury at Aesar’s intervention blazing like an inferno.
Aesar merely arched a brow.
Chest heaving, Lykor clenched his fists and gritted out,WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?
Aesar leaned forward, the glint in his eyes cold and unyielding.Because I’ve had enough of you pushing everyone away. Especially those trying to help.
I DON’T—
Before he could finish, Aesar wrenched control of their body away, shoving Lykor aside in a violent shift. Lykor gasped as his senses dulled, a void threatening to swallow him. Aesar tightened their grip around Jassyn, pulling him closer to their chest—surely strong enough to rouse him. Just to make his pathetic point.
