“Now I needconstantmental barricades,” Vesryn muttered. “Jassyn is hopeless at shielding when he’s…you know.”
“Distracted?” Serenna offered, lips twitching. “By Lykor?”
Vesryn huffed. “More like blasting desire down the bond so forcefully I nearly feel it myself.”
She rolled onto her side to face him, brushing her knee against his over the sheets. “You poor, dramatic prince,” she teased. “I’d wager you’ve put Jassyn through worse.”
“Maybe.” Vesryn’s smirk faded into something quieter, the humor draining from his face. “But tell me, what stars did I offend to end up juggling a bond withFenn?” He groaned and dragged a pillow over his face, the words coming muffled. “At least you know what it’s like to block out whatever he’s up to at the Oasis with Koln.”
Serenna’s gaze drifted to the balcony, to the sweep of night beyond it. Fenn’s presence hovered across the star-flecked horizon, dim but distinct in the back of her thoughts.
Koln had invited her to the Oasis again, and she knew Fenn would’ve liked her there. But she’d stayed behind because she wanted to spend this last evening with Vesryn before dawn sent her to the opposite corner of the realms.
When she didn’t answer, Vesryn peeked at her from beneath the pillow. “How…does that work with you three?”
“I’m not a part of their dynamic,” Serenna said, smoothing a faint crease in the linens. “Fenn and Koln are committed to each other, but they keep their other ties separate. Fenn isn’t fond of Koln’s partners, and says he and Koln don’t last long in each other’s presence. They either fight or—” She cleared her throat, heat rising to her cheeks. “But they’ve found what works for them, even if I don’t quite understand it.”
Vesryn lay quiet before murmuring, “Where I was raised, changing partnerships is common. Elves always say we live too long to expect desire to stay bound to one person forever. It’s just…I’ve never cared like this before. Not for anyone.”
A warmth unfurled low in Serenna’s chest as Vesryn shifted closer, his knuckles brushing down her arm. She hadn’t expected the weight of his admission to settle so gently beneath her ribs.
“Back in the capital,” he continued, “I chased anything that felt like living—pleasure, power, distractions that vanished by morning.” His thumb skimmed absently over her skin. “But when I thought I’d lost Aesar…” He shook his head, breath shuddering out. “After that, all I wanted was vengeance. I didn’t think I deserved anything softer. Not after failing the only ones who mattered.”
His gaze drifted away from hers. “Maybe some part of me still believes that’s true. That I’ll always be unworthy. That I missed my one chance to be anything else.”
Serenna felt the ache move through him before he finished speaking, a familiar, self-inflicted wound she’d sensed him carry before.
“You’re not unworthy,” she whispered as she reached for his hand, threading her fingers through his. “Not to me.”
In the soft haze of the hovering illumination, his eyes lifted again—unshielded, unguarded, his usual defenses stripped away.
His voice came quiet, calloused palm warm in her own. “It isn’t about being the only one. Not really. It’s knowing I’m not shut out. Even when I sense what you feel for Fenn, I still know you care for me. That I have a place. That’s what makes this all bearable.”
A muscle feathered in his jaw and Serenna squeezed his hand, unwilling to let him retreat behind his walls.
“And now thanks to thisnewStarshard bond,” Vesryn mumbled, “I get the pleasure of sensing how Fenn cares for you too.” He blew out a breath, half exasperated, half resigned.“How could I not respect someone who protects you and centers his world around you?”
Guilt pressed in Serenna’s throat, a hollow ache she couldn’t swallow down. Vesryn had given her nothing but honesty, and all she had offered in return was another thread of complication woven tight between them.
“I meant what I said in the Maw,” she murmured. “We can find a way to undo whatever bound us with the gems.”
“We don’t have to solve everything tonight. And with you leaving in the morning…” Vesryn trailed off, his fingers tightening around hers. “It helps, a little. Being able to sense where you both are. It’s almost like I won’t be so far away.”
The fracture in his voice cracked her open. Serenna lifted her hand to his jaw, thumb tracing his cheek, and leaned in. She sank into the heat between them, care and desire folding into the quiet they’d claimed from the night.
Before their lips brushed, a gust tore through the open balcony doors, sweeping the curtains wide in a sudden rush of wind. A thud struck the stone outside, followed by the rustle of wings snapping shut. Serenna’s hand lingered on Vesryn’s cheek as both of them turned.
Her pulse quickened.
Fenn slipped through the curtains like a shadow ferried by the night. As he crossed into the chamber, he reached up, scraping his talons along the entryway. Wind raked through his hair, teasing his tunic open along his chest.
When his eyes landed on them tucked together under the hovering illumination, he didn’t blink. His brow lifted, a smirk unfurling slowly.
“Didn’t mean to interrupt,” Fenn said lightly.
Serenna drew away from Vesryn and let her mental walls fall, allowing Fenn’s presence to seep through more clearly. A thin ache snagged against her ribs—a flicker that wasn’t quite jealousy, but the sting of arriving too late to a moment alreadyforming without him. Perhaps one he hadn’t belonged to, and maybe wasn’t meant to.
Fenn rubbed the back of his neck as a pulse of unease hummed where their minds brushed, the claws at the tips of his wings curling tight.
