Magnetic and inescapable, Lykor’s gaze snared him like a current. For a heartbeat, Jassyn forgot Fenn at his side. He didn’t hear the report, only felt the weight of that unblinking stare as the world fell away.
Jassyn stepped toward Lykor, murmuring a quiet, “Excuse me,” to Fenn. Over his shoulder, he added, almost tentatively, “The flight trials—have those from Centarya assist with Kal’s drills again tomorrow.”
He thought that must’ve been what Fenn was asking about.
It wasn’t meant to be a command, but Fenn inclined his head. His gaze flicked toward Lykor, then snapped away. Without a word, he pivoted toward the ledge and shifted, wings unfurling like maroon sails. He warped and was airborne. And in another jump, he vanished.
The wind engulfed Jassyn as he closed the distance to Lykor. Cold nipped his cheeks, stripping away the last trace of desert warmth.
At the cliff’s edge, where the gusts bit sharpest and the Maw loomed beyond, Lykor stood motionless, tracking Jassyn’s approach.
Jassyn doubted he had any reason to be here, save the one he’d never confess. Close enough to observe without interfering. Far enough to pretend he wasn’t watching at all.
Jassyn halted next to him, caught between speaking and letting silence pool. Lightning peeled across the horizon, jaggedfractures splitting the sky. The storm seemed to hold its breath as though waiting for one of them to break the quiet.
He let the moment stretch, but under Lykor’s unrelenting gaze the words broke loose before he meant them to.
“I was thinking,” Jassyn blurted, “I should probably get a better feel for the lightning before we start searching for Skylash.”
He shifted his weight, the impulse thinning into hesitation. He’d meant to fly. Maybe. But this was faster. Sensible, even. And Kaedryn would likely be waiting to ambush him about the stormfront the moment he returned to Asharyn.
“Do you think we could portal beyond the peaks?” He gestured south, seizing the excuse to look away. “Closer to the threshold?”
Lykor turned to face him fully, and the horizon seemed to roll beneath Jassyn’s feet. While taller, Jassyn didn’t feel it now. Not when they stood so close the wind itself couldn’t slip between them.
“We?” Lykor echoed.
“Well, I can’t portal,” Jassyn began, heart thudding hard against his ribs. “I thought I might fly, but if you’re here…”
A frayed laugh slipped free, taut with nerves he hadn’t invited. He should’ve asked Fenn. Instead, he’d spent the morning bracing for flight only to find that this—standing before Lykor—was its own kind of freefall.
Lykor didn’t answer. Didn’t blink.
Words kept tumbling from Jassyn anyway. “I didn’t—” He broke off, raking a hand through his curls, the wind’s restlessness caught beneath his skin.
Lykor followed the motion, gaze dipping to the scar on Jassyn’s cheek before returning to collide with his eyes.
“Never mind.” Jassyn cleared his throat and angled slightly toward the camp. The rest hovered unsaid—he didn’t want to gowithout Lykor. But the words refused to cross the space between them. “If you’re busy, I’ll ask one of the rangers to take me instead.”
Lykor’s eyes burned through him until there was nowhere left to hide.
“Like Zaeryn?” he asked, the question low and dark.
Jassyn blinked. “Zaeryn?” The name felt dragged from nowhere, though Fenn had mentioned her earlier. “I could ask. But I’m not even sure if she has the portaling talent…”
He faltered as Lykor’s eyes flashed, certain he’d said something wrong.
Lykor rolled his shoulders, voice nearly a growl. “Did you want to go now?”
Jassyn hesitated, glancing back toward the sprawl of activity, all motion and purpose. Preparations would continue without him. Out here with Lykor, no voices pressed for decisions or orders.
Their eyes caught again. The silence asked nothing, and for the first time all morning, Jassyn let himself breathe. He started to nod, and Lykor opened the portal before he finished, as though he already knew what Jassyn hadn’t dared to say.
And together, they stepped closer toward the storm.
CHAPTER 9
SERENNA
