Chapter 9
JASSYN
The sun melted below the island’s horizon while Jassyn spent the quiet evening sitting at the table on his private balcony—the first night back at his quarters since his time with the prince.
The floral scents from the Infirmary’s lavender hedges fluttered up to the magus’ residence hall on a breeze.
Brushing the stirred curls away from his eyes, Jassyn flipped through the ancient volume Farine had granted him the final time she’d summoned him to her estate.
He’d scoured the tome multiple times. For all its tattered pages, the amount of useful information from Fynlas’ research was scant.
Archivists hadn’t documented shaman powers—the control of fire, water, earth, wind, and lightning—since the extinction of both the shamans and the druids a millennium ago.
Farine intentionally provided a single book from Fynlas’ study to whet my curiosity and have me crawling back for more.
An incident at her estate where she’d forced him to grovel at her jeweled slippers skirted the fringes of Jassyn’s mind before he took a shuddering breath, forcibly shoving the thought away.
She knows something I don’t and would be delighted if I begged for what she’s withholding.
Dread lanced and then twisted though Jassyn’s gut as he considered returning to the Vallende manor willingly to obtain answers.
There’s knowledge in that estate, but I don’t have the strength to pay the price she’s set.
Squeezing his eyes shut, Jassyn steered his mind away from the horrors he’d endured at Farine’s hands, suppressing a sudden urge to bury the memories in Stardust. Steadying himself, Jassyn opened his eyes and directed his attention toward the screen of wisteria vines sheltering his balcony from the neighboring magus.
Perception coasting like clouds on the wind, he stretched his awareness out to the plants. The veins of the leaves hummed with energy, like they had a heartbeat of their own. Jassyn tugged on the droning power and a cluster of blooming flowers drifted to his extended palm.
I need to learn how to control this new magic.
As the vines coiled around his hands, Jassyn clenched the plants as a sobering thought flitted across his mind.
Regardless of the prince’s exclusive claim to his bloodline, the elves would undoubtedly force him back into servitude if they discovered that the elemental magic had awakened in him.
Aside from the Vallendes, some of the higher members of Alari’s society must’ve known that the council had deliberately intermingled human lineages bearing the ancient powers with prominent elven lines.
Jassyn wrestled for control of his breathing before fear compressed his chest. I’ve hardly had two weeks of freedom. The last thing he wanted to do was fall back into the council’s clutches.
I’m not alone though, Jassyn reminded himself. Many at Centarya had the ancestral ties—including Serenna. Her name was inked at the bottom of one of the family trees hidden away in Fynlas’ study.
He doubted that Elashor had informed Serenna about the shaman roots in her mortal bloodline, considering she thought shamans were simply human folklore. I have to tell her. She needed to be aware of the danger if her powers suddenly manifested too.
Thoughts shattering, Jassyn’s muscles spasmed like he’d been struck by a wave of lightning.
He flinched, his control on the earth fracturing.
The vine wilted and drooped, no longer prodded by power.
Jassyn tensed, sensing a groping presence cling to his mind.
Cringing, he knew the incessant touch could only belong to the prince.
Come to my quarters, Vesryn commanded through the telepathic link, confirming Jassyn’s suspicion.
I think we’ve spent quite enough time together lately, Jassyn clipped.
Assembling his mental barricades, he swiped the prince out of his head with all the attention he would’ve afforded brushing dust off a shelf.
Having only retired to his chambers mere hours ago after joining the prince at the Ranger Station, he wasn’t about to drag himself back to Vesryn’s rooms.
The prince redoubled his efforts, latching onto Jassyn’s mind like a leech. Irritation compounding, Jassyn rolled his shoulders, hoping his cousin would grow bored and relent.
Moments passed while Vesryn persistently battered against his barrier. Exhaustion from the previous few days had Jassyn dropping his face into his hands in defeat.
What could you possibly need? Jassyn snapped, abandoning his mental shield. He scowled toward the peak of the Spire when the prince’s telepathic presence flooded back into his awareness.
I took Serenna training and she came out with a few scrapes and bruises. I thought you could heal her.
Seriously? Jassyn stretched in his seat, massaging one of his aching calves, loosening a knotted muscle. Why can’t you handle mending something so minor?
Do you really want me healing her on my own?
You’re right. Jassyn’s nose wrinkled in disgust, smelling his cousin’s manipulation radiating from the top of the tower.
I had to straighten that last mess after you “mended” her finger into a useless hook.
Blowing out a sigh, Jassyn rose and gathered Fynlas’ research, returning indoors.
His watery legs already dreaded ascending the Spire.
I’m on my way. Driving his hands through his curls, he shoved the prince out of his mind.
Tucking the tome away in a bookcase, Jassyn wondered how he’d manage to clandestinely exercise his new power. Since Vesryn was intent on ensuring he didn’t relapse, Jassyn could only assume that his cousin wouldn’t permit him to have any significant time alone.
A wave shimmered in the middle of Jassyn’s sitting room, unfolding into a portal.
He rolled his eyes to the ceiling, pleading to the stars for strength.
I see Vesryn made himself familiar enough with my living quarters.
At some point in the past few days, the prince had taken it upon himself to root around in Jassyn’s belongings and dispose of his Stardust supply.
Lips thinning, Jassyn stomped through the rift. He could concede that the gateway was a convenience, but he didn’t have to tolerate Vesryn's unsolicited intrusion into his chambers whenever he pleased.
Half blinded by the glaring angle of the descending sun in the prince’s apartment, Jassyn detected his cousin outside on his balcony, his silhouette framed by the flowing waterfall. Vesryn wandered into the sitting room, leaving the sliding glass door open to permit the evening breeze.
Unwilling to cultivate the prince’s gesture into a habit, Jassyn withheld his gratitude for the portal that’d spared him the daunting climb.
“I don’t appreciate you slithering through my mind or helping yourself to my quarters,” he announced as the rift disappeared.
Jassyn surveyed the apartment. “Where’s Serenna? ”
As if summoned, the bathing chamber door banged open. Freshly showered, mahogany hair hanging loose and damp down her back, Serenna glided into the opulent sitting room. Nose in the air, she clearly was making it a point to ignore the prince as she weaved around the couches, avoiding him.
Instead of her leathers, she wore loungewear of that cashmere material Vesryn favored. Jassyn frowned between her and his cousin, disregarding the unsettling fact that she had a set of nightwear in the prince’s rooms.
After he processed Serenna’s outfit, Jassyn’s eyes darted across her, assessing her split lip and the trenches gouged down her arms. He blinked. Discolored skin peeked out from under her clothes, concealing further injuries.
“Scrapes and bruises?” Turning to the prince, Jassyn’s question came out strangled. “Scrapes and bruises?” He flung an arm out toward her. “She’s more mangled now than she was after the assault!”
Jassyn whirled back to Serenna, gently tapping into her mind. What happened? Did Vesryn do this? He kept half of his attention on his cousin as they silently had a conversation before Vesryn noticed.
The prince, Serenna scathingly replied, glacial eyes flashing toward Vesryn, insisted on training in the dungeons. He unleashed one of those mindless wraith on me!
Jassyn gaped like a fish nicked from water. He what?
She silently displayed her arms. But I can’t feel anything—he’s absorbing the pain through the bond.
That doesn’t excuse him. Jassyn clenched his fists as something furious seared him like a hot iron, stoking his ire. Can you bind him with rending?
Serenna startled through the telepathic link. Why?
Just help me. This behavior of his ends now.
Jassyn launched in Vesryn’s direction, rolling one of his daggers to his fingers as soon as he moved.
Shadows raced across the floor, twisting around the prince.
For half a heartbeat, Jassyn feared the magic would strike him until he sensed that the pulse of Essence emanated behind him from Serenna.
He jammed the golden blade against his cousin’s throat before Vesryn’s eyes finished widening.
Serenna sucked in a sharp breath. Looking back at her, Jassyn saw her wincing before she glanced at him for guidance.
She cradled her arm, continuing to spin her rending across the room.
Since he’d negated their bond by tethering the prince, it was obvious she could now feel her wounds. He hadn’t considered that.
Vesryn’s gaze volleyed between them, eyes glinting with a sadistic delight.
“Well, this evening is proving to be more interesting than I expected.” Unphased by the blood welling around the dagger’s edge, he arched a brow.
“I can’t say I’ve ever been magically restrained and tethered before.
You’ve outdone yourself with this added touch of knife play—”