Lips tingling, she drew back to breathlessly ask, “Is this part of your evening patrol, or are you breaking protocol?”
“Consider this fieldwork,” Fenn growled, grin sharpening to a feral edge as his palms traced her body. “Perimeter inspection—very thorough.”
Serenna’s laugh spilled free as she tugged him toward her bedchamber. They barely left the balcony before three sharp knocks cracked against the suite door.
The sound split her open like lightning. Serenna froze, stomach plunging. She already knew.
Fenn caught the way her expression faltered. With a wry shrug, he slipped free of her grip before warping across the sitting room. In a blink, he reappeared at the entryway, swinging the door open.
Spine stiff, Serenna hurried to the center of the chamber. Vesryn stood on the other side, jaw locked, shoulders tight as he glared at Fenn.
Obscuring the prince’s view, Fenn braced an arm lazily against the doorframe, talons idly scoring the wood. Like she hadn’t been about to drag him into her sheets.
Like she hadn’t come undone with Vesryn on Naru’s back that morning.
Vesryn shifted just enough to look past Fenn, gaze locking with hers.
Shame flared beneath Serenna’s skin. The bond betrayed her with threads of want still cooling from Fenn’s touch—too late to smother, too raw to bury. Vesryn would feel it as surely as his own pulse, whether she willed it or not.
“I…wanted to see if you were ready for dinner,” Vesryn said, voice measured and tight, ignoring Fenn entirely. “But if you’re in the middle of something, I’ll—”
“I won’t say no to an appetizer,” Fenn cut in, smooth as smoke, tossing her a wink.
The blood drained from Serenna’s face as words deserting her. Fenn struck flint to kindling, and she couldn’t tell yet if the fire would burn them all at once.
Vesryn didn’t move, but his fingers curled in slowly, knuckles whitening. “I’ll see you two on the terrace.” A breath flared from his nostrils. “Or I won’t.”
He turned on his heel, stalking down the hall.
Chest tight, Serenna stayed rooted as Fenn leaned out of the room, calling after him. “Where do you think you’re going, princeling?”
Vesryn didn’t slow. “Since you two clearly haveotherplans for the evening,” he clipped, not looking back, “I’ll leave you to them.”
Fenn warped, then reappeared back in the sitting room with Vesryn caught fast in his grip. The bond spiked with the prince’s fury as he staggered free, spinning on Fenn with a snarl.
Fenn flicked his wrist and a pulse of force slammed the door shut. Serenna flinched as the latch clicked, sealing them in. Gaze leveling on her and Vesryn, Fenn folded his arms and planted himself in front of the doorway.
“Didn’t say Serenna had to be the only course,” he drawled, eyes raking over Vesryn with a look that lingered too long to be polite.
Serenna winced. “Fenn,” she warned, before Vesryn’s temper could ignite. “We should go. Jassyn and Lykor are probably—”
“No.”
Fenn’s word split the air cleanly, cutting her short.
His gaze slid between her and the prince, steady and unflinching. “From where I’m standing, neither of you has the spine to name what you want.”
Serenna shifted under the weight of the accusation even though he hadn’t raised his voice.
“You both care,” Fenn went on. “But that’s not rare. Plenty of people feel the spark. What matters is what you do when the fire bites back.”
His eyes locked on Vesryn. A muscle jumped in the prince’s jaw as he squared his shoulders, but he said nothing.
“And right now?” Fenn continued, gaze swinging back to her. “You’re both bolting in opposite directions.”
Serenna hesitantly met Vesryn’s eyes, an unspoken ache rising between them. She meant to say something—she was the one who’d tangled them all—but the moment slipped, and they both looked away as silence sank in its teeth.
“That’s not love,” Fenn said softly. “That’s fear hiding behind a closed jaw, waiting for someone else to speak first.”
