He let the words fall like a blade, daring either of them to reach for it.
Serenna opened her mouth—to smooth, to pivot, to lay down some diplomatic balm that might blunt Vesryn’s sharp edges and buy her air.
Fenn lifted a claw. “Don’t,” he said, already reading the shape of what she reached for. “You’re leaning away again. Don’t make it easy for him to leave before either of you says what you want.”
Vesryn’s eyes flashed. “You think you know what I’m feeling?”
Fenn didn’t rise to the challenge. “I’m asking you to say it,” he said, gaze steady. “To her.”
“I don’t need to play whatever game this is,” Vesryn hissed. “I know how it ends. I lose.”
“That’s not true,” Serenna cut in. She stepped closer, carefully, like the floor might crack beneath her. “Fenn’s right. We haven’t spoken of this. Not together.”
Vesryn’s shoulders dropped, the motion defeated. “I was never going to make you choose between us,” he said quietly.
Jaw tight, he faltered, and Serenna sensed him warring to restrain the truth.
“I drove you to him in the first place,” Vesryn said at last, his voice splintering.
He faced Fenn fully, his expression shattered. “I hate that it’s you,” he rasped. “I hate how easily you make her laugh. How you saw what she needed before I did, and you gave it without hesitation. Like I wasn’t even trying.” A breath staggered from him, shallow and shaking. “But I was. I’vealwaysbeen trying. I’ve just never figured out how to reach for something without fucking it up.”
He looked back at Serenna, hurt wavering in his eyes. “You finding something with him doesn’t make me want you less. It never did. Maybe the bond is what brought us together, but I don’t want a future written by fate.”
His eyes flicked toward Fenn, a glance that admitted what had been built without him, even if it stung. When he looked back, the words scraped bare.
“What you have with him—youchosethat. I want the same chance. Not because the stars aligned us together, but because you’d want to be with me too.”
The confession struck like a missed stair in the dark. Serenna stepped forward, claiming the ground he no longer guarded.
“And you can live with it?” Her whisper cut across the silence. “When I’m with Fenn? If I let myself want both of you? Is that even fair?”
“I’vealreadylived with it,” Vesryn growled. “You’re with him. He’s with Koln. And you think I can’t handle the same?”
“I’m not asking either of you to decide tonight,” Fenn said gently, like someone who’d walked through a similar fire and hadn’t been burned. “But I’m not letting either of you torch this because you can’t say aloud what’s been smoldering betweenyou.” He met Vesryn’s gaze, without heat or challenge, and shrugged. “You matter to her. That’s reason enough for me.”
Vesryn’s jaw flexed. “It should be obvious I’m not interested inyou.”
The corner of Fenn’s mouth twitched. Serenna knew a quip was itching there, but he sheathed it with a smirk.
The quiet that followed throbbed with hesitation, crowding her chest as their attention turned to her.
“You both matter to me,” Serenna said, her voice steadier than she felt. “I know I won’t do this perfectly. But I want more—with both of you. And I won’t wound either of you with silence again.”
Her eyes found Vesryn’s, meeting the longing etched across his face, the ache of someone still learning how to open without breaking. “And you’re right. I want what’s between us to be something we claim together. Not because the bond intertwined us. I want you, and I don’t want to lose what we still have.”
Then she turned to Fenn, who held space without pressing. “I don’t want to lose what we’ve built either. Maybe I’ve been afraid to name it, but I’ll fight for this. For both of you.” Her throat tightened, but she forced the words free. “I know it won’t be easy. And I know what it costs you—both of you—to stand here and want me anyway. That’s not something I’ll ever take lightly.”
Serenna knew it wasn’t a resolution, but it was the first unshaken truth laid between them. And no one looked away.
Fenn exhaled theatrically, raking his talons through his hair, mouth tipping back into a curve. “Well,” he drawled, “no one’s storming off. I’ll count that as progress. Dinner, then?” He tilted his head, eyeing the prince. “Or is anyone else in the mood for something a little less…formal?”
Serenna blurted a laugh as Vesryn made a strangled sound—half growl, half sigh. His jaw worked, a retort winding up before stalling in a defeated grunt.
Fenn just grinned, sauntering toward the door. “Let’s go. I’d bet a fang Jassyn and Lykor came back from the Maw with something that’ll need a few sips of nectar to pry loose.” He didn’t look back, already halfway down the corridor.
“This is going to be…trying,” Vesryn muttered.
Yet his hand still found hers, fingers curling tight with a squeeze that promised he meant to stay. And she held on.
