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Damien arrived at dawn every day for the next week. We’d spent most afternoons on the fields with Naraic and Emerich racing through obstacles for the Skyfall tournament. We never spoke about that kiss, and I feared Damien regretted it—and I tried my best to forget it.

Or perhaps he’d seen Archer and my encounter. My mind had coaxed that memory up more than once since it happened.

Myla gained her first sword two days before, a silver-handled blade from the Day realm.

And Archer made it clear he didn’t want me to race.

His kindness faltered when we returned to advanced dragon riding.

Not that Naraic needed it. I’d learned that Naraic was seventy-one.

But he was forbidden from speaking of past riders—another ward.

Professor Cain hadn’t pressed on my quell either, but I couldn’t help but notice his lecture on forbidden quells during our history lesson that morning .

Cain tapped his quill on his wooden desk.

“Back in the settler days, quells knew no bounds. There were even quells that absorbed the powers of others. Forbidden quells disobey nature, such as those involving life and death. Twenty-seven years ago, a Serpent Academy student could kill with a single touch. Her wielding knew no limits; anyone who stepped toward her shield met a fatal end. Does anyone know what happens when someone is found to possess a forbidden quell?”

Malachi raised her hand. “Their quell is stripped from them.”

Professor Cain shouted, “Excellent, Herring! I suspect you are familiar with forbidden quells.”

Antonia raised her hand. “How many forbidden quells have been found at the academy?”

Cain pushed his square glasses back. “About ten. The most recent was two years ago. It’s never a good thing when one is found.”

I asked without raising a hand, “How are they found?”

“Well, Severyn, the Malvoria guards are trained to seek out those harboring forbidden quells. Usually, I can suspect it as well.”

Antonia smirked. “Say her name. Fallon Blanche harbored the forbidden death quell, and her daughter sits among us. How do we know Severyn isn’t one of them?”

Cain clenched his jaw. “I suspect many things of Severyn Blanche but not a forbidden quell.”

Antonia rolled her eyes. “The daughter of the death quell should be watched. I don’t feel safe knowing she sleeps doors away from me.”

Professor Cain nodded. “Antonia, if you are scared, might I suggest strengthening the shield in your room.” He flicked his wrist, shattering her shadow shield into a crumble of darkened spheres. “Class will be dismissed tomorrow,” he muttered. “Now, let’s see those shields. ”

We shielded for the rest of the class. My flame whirred and hummed, growing from my relic into a fiery ball. The flame warmed me, and Myla, who sat across, cursed as her ice melted into a puddle.

I quickly shot an apprehensive grin at her, whispering, “I’m sorry.”

Myla pursed her lips. “It’s fine,” she hissed, slamming her warding book closed and moving three chairs over.

Cain called the class, and I waited for the rest of the students to leave. Damien must have read my mind and knew I wanted to stay back and speak to the professor because he gave me a nod as he left the room.

I strummed my fingers on the table as Cain organized his desk. “Professor Cain, did you know my mother?” I asked.

His eyes hardened on the stone ground. The door slammed shut as he raised his palm, and every vial and liquid shuddered. He spoke quietly, “We attended the academy together.”

“What happened to her?” I prepared to be shocked. It seemed nothing about my mother was expected.

“I’ve always sensed quells, and when Fallon’s quell arrived, I was sick for a week. Your mother confided in me. I tried to help her, but I knew then what power she held.”

My chest tightened. “Did you tell anyone?”

“I had no choice. Your mother was something the academy hadn’t seen before, something forbidden and unnatural.

I tried to warn her, but the king took one look at her and stripped her of her quell.

I can’t speak about what she went through here.

” His eyes closed as if a memory haunted him.

“Your mother was born in Ravensla. The flame makes sense,” Cain muttered.

“Fallon lived a tough life before coming to the academy.”

“What?” I gasped. “My mother was born in Ravensla?”

Cain pressed his lips together. “You are the burning heir of Summer, Severyn. Victor Lynch and your mother fought for the same title. Those two were… chaos together. I am glad to see you and the glass-wielder as friends.”

Damien and I were rivals… and I was simply another Bridger stealing his rightful heirship. “What did you mean before when you sensed something in me?”

“A life saved demands remission. A life saved is a life lost, and you are not strong enough to hold that. It is called a Soul Weaver. You possess the extraordinary ability to heal beyond blood and wounds—you can heal the soul.”

Soul Weaver.

“Are you going to tell the headmaster?” I whispered, fisting my riding leather jacket.

Cain closed his eyes. “Does it make me any better? Those who survive having their quell stripped are an anomaly. I—I’m tired of holding that darkness. You cannot save lives, Severyn. Seven souls linger to you… I can hear them screaming. And that is the darkness I sense in you.”

Seven souls. Archer had seven keys. Meaning a life would have to be lost for me to save one.

It all sank in. Guilt and shame reefed my insides. “I have to go.”

I ran from that room, from the walls that seemed to suck me in further, from his eyes that held onto me with such might I could not bear another second.

I was simply a vessel between life and death. I ran to Naraic, dropping to my knees. My hands pressed into the dirt as I met his violet eyes. He already knew my whirling thoughts but still nuzzled his sharp snout into my chin.

“Who am I to say should live?” I’d gotten better at speaking only through the bond.

“Perhaps those lives should not have been taken in the first place. ”

“Do you think I would have bonded with another dragon if Klaus were alive?”

Naraic was silent for a moment. “I do not.”

“Why?”

“We knew you would come. There is no reality where Klaus survives. I know the names of each rider who will choose me, living and unalive. I knew you were next. I just didn’t know how exactly.”

“You knew? Klaus knew?”

“When a dragon is born, we have roots. Every hundred years, a new root grows… every hundred hatchlings have a choice. Our bloodlines are tied. I did not know how you would find me. I just knew you would.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You will someday. When you are ready to understand.”

Damien waited by the fields for our private lesson, dressed in traditional Serpent Academy black and green. The breeze picked up, yet I sensed summer would be in full rein within the following days.

Picking through my mind, Damien gave me a tight-lipped expression. “Do you want to talk about your conversation with Cain?” he asked, placing a clipped sphere in my hands.

“No. I’d rather spar until I can only think about my sore body.”

Damien cocked his head. “And you choose sparring to be that activity? I can think of other ways of getting hot and heavy that don’t involve a knife to your throat.” He twirled the dagger in his fingers. “Unless you’re into that.”

“I’m not in the mood to pretend flirt. Not when the Serpent Bid is in a month, and I have yet to keep a single dagger in my possession during combat.” I pressed the dagger’s soft side into his chest, forcing him to step back.

“Pretend flirting?” Our daggers clanged as he lunged forward.

I grunted. “Yes. We kissed, and you now pretend like it never happened.”

Within a second, the dagger was against my neck, his hazel eyes burning into my gaze. I held my breath as his other hand gripped my wrist. My back slammed into a tree as he skimmed the blade along my neck, not hard enough to draw blood.

“Do you want me to kiss you?” he mused.

Damien never scared me, but the look in his eyes was more primal. “Not like this.”

“Your mind begs to differ. I’m a man of class, Sev, but my thoughts of you are more crude than the fable you’ve made about us in your mind.

I’m not willing to risk a rider bond forming between us.

” He leaned in, and our breath formed as one.

“You are always lost in thought.” It was a complete topic change, but I was too annoyed to be embarrassed.

I watched his knee bend, bracing to pin me down. My spine scraped against the bark, jerking as his dagger tore through the air. I quickly swung at his leg, and a curse broke our feud of huffing.

“I don’t care about a rider bond. I want you, and I don’t know what you want.”

My heart pounded.

If my mind were my setback, I’d engulf every thought in violent flames. I would breathe in smoke through every word spoken to me.

“You clearly know nothing about rider bonds and how they are formed.”

I slammed my palm into his chest and hissed, “I do not disagree with you. Perhaps I’ve been rather distracted, and no, I don’t know how those bonds are formed.

” Damien was the worst sparring partner I could have chosen.

I needed someone who would not go easy on me and could not predict my every move. Preferably someone I hadn’t kissed.

I dove right, but he was already there, his hands around my waist, pulling me closer. Our hips pressed together, and the dagger slid from his grasp, sticking into the grass. He shifted closer, and those hazel eyes softened under the moonlight.

“Stop,” he whispered, his grip tightening, drawing me closer. “I wish I could shield around you, but it’s difficult, and I’m afraid if I let you in, you won’t understand my mind.”

I swallowed the burning down.

“I understand,” I said.