“We kept the bond’s existence between us, but it became something more when we decided to accept the magic,” Mara finished, her hand finding his. “I wouldn’t have been able to survive life in the palace without him.”
Velinya sighed a dreamy hum, tracing lazy patterns in the grass.
The thought of Mara and Thalaesyn enduring a broken and reforged bond filled Serenna with warmth, tempered by an ache she hadn’t expected.
If her path hadn’t splintered from the prince’s, perhaps they would have already accepted theirs. But now, hesitation hung between them—a gulf of guilt neither had ventured to cross.
Unlike Vesryn and Jassyn’s bond—born of necessity—the thought of completing her own with the prince now felt…rushed. Theirs wasn’t just a tactical merging of power—feelings had become entangled, turning the binding into something more than strategy. And clearly neither of them had figured out how to navigate that yet.
Just as Velinya began pressing for more details, two of Fenn’s sisters warped across the clearing to their group. They clacked their talons in deference to Mara before one addressed Serenna and Velinya. “We’re heading to the lake, if you want to join.”
Velinya shot to her feet in a blur. “We’d love to!” She snatched Serenna’s arm, pulling her up with her.
“Maybe next time,” Serenna said, glancing at the dying light—nearly time for her departure to Vaelyn. “I have to meet with the prince.”
Velinya tied back her curls and flashed a grin. “Your loss,” she quipped, linking arms with Fenn’s sisters and all but dragging the pair into the trees. They joined a horde of wraith heading in the same direction, their laughter gradually dissolving into the soft whisper of leaves.
Serenna bade Mara and Thalaesyn farewell and turned toward the jungle, the bond’s thread guiding her toward the prince. The sun’s fading rays slanted through the canopy, stretching shadows across the mossy floor.
Fenn, already at the lake with Koln, radiated excitement for their journey across the Wastes. But Vesryn’s mood felt more subdued, burdened by an undercurrent of unease.
Navigating over a cluster of vines, Serenna’s steps faltered, a similar apprehension slowing her stride. Vaelyn loomed in her thoughts, a fractured echo of home. Jassyn had told her of the compulsion on her mother—and her brother was surely snared in Elashor’s web as well, blissfully blind to the truth as danger closed in.
But the mission tonight wasn’t about a reunion, or even warning them about the elves. Setting foot in Vaelyn’s court wouldn’t just risk exposure—it would drag her family into yet another conflict that they had no part in.
Serenna could already feel the capital’s condemnation, her name surely listed alongside Vesryn’s, Jassyn’s, and those of the magus who’d cast their lot in with Lykor.
The dense underbrush of ferns parted, unveiling a secluded clearing awash in firelight. The glow from the dancing flames traced the silhouettes of Kal and Vesryn as they sat nearby. Speaking in low tones, they sharpened their daggers,the rhythmic scrapes against the whetstones punctuating the crackling fire.
Just beyond them lay Aesar—Serenna assumed—sprawled out in sleep, his head resting on Trella’s forelegs. The dracovae gently glided her beak through his hair, preening with tender precision. Curled protectively beside her, Naru emitted a rumbling chuff, the deep vibration shuddering through the ground.
The rare serenity tugged at a chord in Serenna’s chest as she settled beside the prince, feeling like an intruder. Vesryn shifted slightly, his knee landing against hers.
“You should take a wraith with you tonight,” Kal urged the prince. “Fenn could keep you cloaked—reduce the chances of detection.”
Vesryn’s hand stilled mid-stroke across the whetstone. Fingers tightening around the hilt of his blade, discord reverberated through the bond. Though he offered no words, he obviously didn’t want Fenn’s involvement.
“What about Aesar?” Serenna asked, gently sidestepping Kal’s suggestion.
Vesryn shook his head, voice soft but firm. “He needs rest.” His gaze lingered on his brother, whose chest rose and fell in a peaceful rhythm beneath Trella’s watchful care. “Lykor has been pushing them too hard.”
“And besides,” Kal added with a weary sigh, “Like me, they’ve lost the ability to cloak.”
“We’ll be careful,” Vesryn assured him, sliding his blade into its sheath with a whisk. “A quick in and out. If possible, we’ll bring back a sentry for questioning. But no unnecessary risks.”
Rising smoothly, the prince extended a hand to Serenna, helping her to her feet. For a moment, hesitation darkened his features as his attention drifted back to Aesar, who rolled over in sleep.
“I’ll stay with him,” Kal offered, stretching and shifting as he settled against a tree. “If Lykor stirs, I’ll insist that he rests as well.”
Vesryn gave a slow nod, his shoulders relaxing slightly. Extending his hand, a glimmering stream of Essence whirled around him. The air wrinkled before a pool of darkness unfurled.
Serenna drew a steadying breath and followed Vesryn through the rift’s cool embrace, the jungle dissolving behind them. Before she could regain her bearings, a second portal tore open—and they stepped through.
Rough stone replaced soft earth when they reached Vaelyn’s cliffs. Twin moons climbed the sky, spilling silver light across the bay.
Like blades poised to strike, dozens of massive hulls anchored in the harbor broke the shimmering waves. The angular vessels gleamed with a stark white sheen, severe in their beauty—harsh like the elves. Furled sails swayed with the tide, the pointed masts rising high to spear the stars.
Serenna’s breath hitched as she scanned the shoreline, wooden piers jutting into the water like skeletal fingers. The pristine sands she once knew were scarred, twisted into something monstrous.
