SERENNA
Serenna reappeared with Fenn after the warp, the charged atmosphere between their companions slapping her like a stormfront about to break.
Busy imposing order, Jassyn methodically tucked items into his overstuffed pack. Meanwhile, Lykor and Vesryn stood apart, ignoring each other with a level of disdain that teetered on the edge of absurdity. Spines stiff and arms crossed, they glared in opposite directions across the icy expanse, their expressions twin masks of irritation.
Fenn—either deliberately ignoring or blissfully oblivious to the undercurrent of animosity—proudly waved his kill at Lykor. He earned a dismissive grunt and some muttered complaint about them taking their “stars-cursed time.”
Unbothered by Lykor’s disinterest, Fenn swaggered to his gear and, without the slightest prompting, reenacted the hunt for Jassyn. He mimed the serpent’s demise, punctuating his performance by describing the explosion of its skull as he fastened the creature’s corpse to his pack.
Serenna’s gaze slid to Vesryn while she slung her bag onto her shoulders. Reluctant to disturb the precarious balancebetween him and Lykor, she caught his eye and subtly tapped the side of her head.
Did you and Lykor come to an agreement?she ventured to ask once the prince’s telepathic link curled around her mind.
No,Vesryn growled, his frustration cracking like ice.I’ll humor him for a few days, but I didn’t think he was actually serious about not going back to the jungle until we’ve crossed the Wastes.He shoved his hands into his cloak pockets, jaw tightening as he skewered Lykor’s back with a glower.Hopefully Aesar can talk some sense into him.
The prince’s eyes flicked to the serpent dangling from Fenn’s pack, mouth twisting with revulsion.I still think we should return every few days to resupply. I’d rather not choke down whatever ropes of meat the Forager Fiend drags back.
Lykor slashed the air open with a portal, the other end appearing across the valley where they’d scouted. Without sparing a backward glance to ensure everyone was ready, he vanished into the midnight void.
Vesryn exhaled slowly, a plume of frosty breath escaping as he rolled his eyes. “He won’t even let me help with the portals.”
Fenn disappeared after Lykor, but Jassyn lingered, stepping closer to Serenna and the prince instead of following. He hefted his pack with some effort, nearly stumbling under the weight of the extra cloaks he’d insisted on bringing.
“At this rate, he’ll run himself ragged before the sun goes down,” Jassyn said, brushing unruly curls from his face. Rather than mirroring the prince’s annoyance, his voice carried a quiet concern.
Temper flaring, Vesryn stalked toward the gateway. “And when that happens, I’m sure he’ll just demand my power.”
Serenna stifled a sigh as she hurried after the prince, the icy wind nipping at her cheeks. When she slipped her hand intohis, Vesryn’s strides slowed, irritation softening as his fingers wrapped around hers.
Lykor’s refusal to accept help was maddening. She couldn’t deny that. But Vesryn’s simmering indignation only stoked the flames. Their quarreling seemed almost laughable in the face of what lay ahead.
Then again, Serenna understood why both fought so fiercely to cling onto some semblance of control in a world where so little remained. If these petty squabbles were the height of their troubles, perhaps they should consider themselves fortunate.
“Give him time,” Jassyn said, adjusting a strap on his bag as he matched their pace. “You know he’s used to handling everything on his own.”
“Why don’tyoutake a turn talking sense into him?” Vesryn bunched his lips before shooting his cousin a pointed look. “For some reason, he actually listens to you without snarling.”
Jassyn reached the rift, hesitating at the threshold before shaking his head. “I don’t think he will,” he finally admitted. “Not after last night.”
Serenna watched him disappear through the portal, her chest tightening under the weight of his resignation. Jassyn always calculated risks, and it was clear he’d decided this battle wasn’t worth fighting. She couldn’t blame him—not when Lykor hadn’t so much as glanced in his direction all day, let alone given any sign he’d heard him when Jassyn spoke.
Lykor’s silence wasn’t indifference. It was a deliberate dismissal.
Vesryn released a short, exasperated breath. “Shall we?” he asked, tone clipped as he gestured toward the rift. “Wouldn’t want to get left behind.”
Time soon lost its meaning, the hours blurring into days as they steadily traveled westward across the Wastes. Snow stretched endlessly, broken only by waves of jagged mountain ranges. Glaciers carved deep trenches in the earth. Their craggy edges formed shadowed valleys amid the ice fields that shimmered under the cold, indifferent sun.
Supplementing the prince’s shields, Serenna’s and Jassyn’s shaman powers strained against the ever-raging elements as the snowy terrain passed beneath them in leaps and bounds. The wind seemed alive in the barren landscape, clawing through their cloaks as if the Wastes itself resisted their passage, a frigid force determined to bar their way.
They pushed their magic to the brink, bending the howling gales just enough to carve a path when snowstorms veiled the world in a haze of white. Yet even their combined efforts couldn’t break the blizzards, and Lykor’s relentless pace allowed no reprieve, forcing them onward through the unyielding storms.
By the third day, the prince had finally managed to erode the unforgiving grind of Lykor’s pace. Aesar had joined them in the evenings, quietly tempering Lykor’s iron will from the shadows.
Lykor had eventually relented, agreeing to alternate with Vesryn on the portal jumps. The concession was as grudging as Lykor himself, a privilege he’d be sure to revoke the instant Vesryn fell short of his expectations.
Serenna kept her thoughts to herself, though the air between them felt more charged with every rift. Even with the burden shared, rivalry brewed as both males stubbornly tested the limits of their power—each determined to spin a portal farther in the distance than the other.
By the time the sun slid behind the snowcapped peaks, the prince had depleted his reserves and Lykor was scraping the last of his power dry. Serenna thought they would halt for the evening, but of course, they didn’t. Lykor always refused to make camp until the first stars flickered to life.
