Lykor crossed his arms. “I’m willing to take that risk. You and I both know Aesar believes the druids may have left something behind—something the wraith could use. If our stronghold is any evidence, that ancient race could have more weapons or technologies that the elves don’t.” Lykor paced the edge of the cliff, casting a scowl at the mortal camps below. “If anything remains, we need to seize it before the king. Leaving our fortress and heading west is our only option.”
“And do you think a thousand years have left the other side of the world unscathed?” Kal dug the toe of his boot into the snow. “We don’t know if anything survived their war. What if the Aelfyn still rule?”
“And what if those lands are empty and ripe for the taking?” Lykor snarled. The metal of his gauntlet screeched when he clenched his fist. “We could argue about unknowns all day. It’s only a matter of time until Galaeryn’s forces discover us. We need to find a new haven.”
Kal heaved a frustrated sigh. “There could be another way.” His eyes slowly lifted, meeting Lykor’s stare. “Aesar’s brother needs to know the truth. I could warn him, tell him what happened to us. I know he’d help.”
“No.” Lykor scoffed, turning back to study the camps below, unwilling to take the risk. “One person won’t make a difference.”
“But he’s involved in their military. What if he could combine forces with us? We’ve been hiding long enough.” Kal’s voice grew desperate. “All you have to do is open a portal to that island. Get me close. Now that you have illusion again, you could disguise my wraith form.” Kal clutched his shoulder. “I could even appear how I used to and—”
Lykor slapped his claw away. “I saidno.”
“If you would let me—”
“Are you deaf?” Lykor bared his teeth, regretting the loss of his fangs. “Which word didn’t you understand? No one can stand against the king or his growing power.”
“But Vesryn—”
The coercion seized control of Lykor’s body, gripping his mind and ransacking his magic. A bystander behind his own eyes, Lykor was helpless as his Essence automatically reacted, triggered by the prince’s spoken name. His spine went rigid, sundering the air in his lungs. Ice flooded his veins, freezing his bones as solidly as the surrounding snowdrifts.
Even realms away, Galaeryn’s influence still shackled him. No matter how far Lykor fled, he knew he’d never be able to escape. Even if the wraith made it to the other side of the world.
Fingers twitching, confined in his own body, Lykor feverishly tried to resist the magic.IF ANYONE GETS TO KILL KAL, IT’S GOING TO BE ME AND NOT THIS FUCKING COMPULSION.
He didn’t know why he bothered. Any attempt to oppose the king's relentless hold was as futile as grasping the wind. The corners of his vision spotted—he only had moments until darkness extinguished his awareness.
Losing himself to the chaos, a fragile thought surfaced, a tiny glimmer of hope that perhaps the amber-eyed elf coulddismantle the coercion on his mind.HE ALREADY LOOSENED THE MAGIC.Lykor ruthlessly crushed the delusional notion of freedom.LIKE I TOLD HIM, NO ONE CAN SAVE ME.
A funnel of midnight streaked toward Kal’s throat. This compulsory reaction was completely avoidable—both of them had worked around the king’s magic for decades. But Lykor had known that his captain’s flapping tongue would inevitably lead to his demise.
A cloud of rending converged like a tempest. Surely, if there were Essence wielders overseeing the mortals below, they’d sense the might of his power. Lykor’s vision faded, submerging him into a sea of black.
Kal had no defense against the shadows. Eyes widening, he warped away.
But he wasn’t fast enough.
CHAPTER 8
SERENNA
The wraith crashed into Serenna, knocking her flat on the dungeon floor. Head bouncing against the stone, black flecks exploded behind her eyes. She screamed as fangs snapped in her face and talons sliced at her leathers.
The monster’s stifling weight vanished as suddenly as it had rammed into her. A pulse of Vesryn’s power flared behind her, throwing the creature back across the cell with a strike of force. Arms flailing, it snarled against the magic, grotesquely long canines extended. Restraining shadows coiled around the wraith, securing it back against a wall.
Serenna hauled in sharp breaths, a storm of renewed terror dredging up memories from the night of the assault. She pushed herself up to a sitting position, clutching her panic-closed throat. Air burned her lungs as she warily watched the red-eyed beast, expecting it to charge across the room again. Shaking, Serenna relived what she’d thought were her final moments—both the resurrected memory from the attack and the previous few seconds.
“You would’ve been dead,” the prince said behind her, yanking Serenna out of the fear-induced trance.
Serenna swiveled to face him. Vesryn loomed like a thundercloud at the edge of the stark chamber, fingers tapping against his folded arms.
“No thanks to you!” Serenna’s voice was shrill with disbelief. “Scorching stars, what the—”
Cutting her off, Vesryn snarled like the wraith across the chamber. “Shut up and get back on your feet.”
“Why?” Serenna battled his glare with her own, stubbornly staying where she was on the floor. “So you have a better view of that monster tearing me to shreds?”
Vesryn’s mouth thinned, agitation blazing through the bond. “Summon your magic and fight.”
