Page 74
A cool towel was wrapped around my spine. Silk brushed my cheek and body. Groaning in pain, I saw Archer leaning against an unfamiliar stone wall.
“Archer,” I whispered.
Archer clenched his jaw. “What were you thinking coming here? You could have died.”
Everything in me that was still alive shattered. “I couldn’t feel you anymore.”
He took two steps closer, keeping the distance between us. “The Forgotten discovered I was harboring a lindworm. They planned to kill it… to take reign of a title. They knew I’d be at the bid.”
“My mother—she’s working with the Forgotten. She sent the snake after me—”
But he’d seen it through our bond.
Damien. Damien was dead. It was a crushing realization. How could I tell him that the blood soaked into the shredded leather wasn’t mine?
He kept his eyes low. “You’re safe, and that’s all that matters.”
“You kept it.”
“When I found the snake in your room, I knew it had chosen you, but I didn’t think you were ready, and I was not… ready to lose you. But there is still a chance the mark might reject you—it’s been three days, and you’ve had a fever ever since.”
“Archer—” Tears welled in my eyes. “Damien got spliced. He’s dead, and I could not save him.”
His fingers around the air. “Damien went with you?”
I nodded. “Yes.”
I didn’t think shadows could break, but dark fragments chipped like flakes from his fingers. “I’ll send a letter to Victor,” he said.
A sheer silk blanket covered my bruised body. I was still in the Night realm—an eternal sunset blanketed the horizon as I gazed out the window.
“Am I a Serpent?” The question felt wrong—beyond wrong. I hardly knew how to shield or even control my quell.
Archer slowly nodded. “It’s complicated, Severyn. You killed the lindworm in my realm… but the way it was done was unnatural and forced. It’s normally a spectacle.”
Night. I was the heir to Night.
“What about your barter with Victor? Will my father survive?” My mind raced in a million different directions.
“I’m not sure. The Forgotten broke through my wards along with the Malvoria guards.” His face fell briefly. “You are a Serpent, Severyn. ”
“Who will be the heir to Ravensla?” I knotted my fingers in the silk blanket, barely holding on as every second thought drifted back to Damien.
You are a Serpent. Damien is dead. Archer is alive. Those three thoughts whirled in circles, over and over.
“There are still eleven Summer students alive. One will take the title, or the cycle will repeat next year. It could take years.”
“You suspected I’d claim your title.” It wasn’t entirely a question. “You kept it for me, didn’t you?”
Archer was silent for a moment. “Gemini dragons are rare, but they cannot be separated—not realms apart, like they once were decades before. That flame Naraic gave you was Veravine’s, and then it was Klaus’s, and now it is yours.”
“I didn’t have a choice,” I said. “You said I had a choice!”
He closed his eyes briefly, and a look of defeat crossed his features.
“When I was marked with stars that first day, I knew I could never change… I despised myself for what I was. Klaus was marked with the Unknown, but the headmaster placed him in Summer. When we found the dragons, we knew one of us had been placed in the wrong realm. Cain advocated for Klaus to be moved to Night, but Saani wouldn’t let him leave.
Klaus was a Seeker… he saw things—morbid predictions—and it consumed him.
You would have been sent to Malvoria if I hadn’t placed you under my mentorship. ”
“So, what, you die, and I claim your title?”
“I don’t plan on dying anytime soon. You will work under me as my second in line, and I will train you. We will need to work on your shadows.” His blue eyes dimmed.
I couldn’t think of the after. Even tomorrow seemed terrifying… I was barely gripping the present.
“Damien—can you send someone to retrieve his body? They deserve a proper burial. ”
“It’s customary for the parents of the students to hold the burial. It’s out of my hands.”
“He’s dead, Archer. It’s all my fault.”
Archer’s shoulder tensed. “No.” He turned away. “It is not your fault.”
“I’m sorry,” I cried. “The pain of loss—”
He cut me off. “I know how it feels, Severyn. He is dead. People die.”
I was okay with the world believing I was dead for a while, perhaps forever.
“Is Naraic here?” I asked.
Archer nodded. “He tried to stop you. His wings got sliced. He may never fly the same again.” His voice choked.
“Why did our bond go cold? Even Ciaran couldn’t hear you.”
Archer pressed a thumb to his temple. “It was the shield, Severyn. Our bond never went cold. You just… couldn’t hear me.” He went toward me. “We need to clean your injuries. The lindworm bit you, and I’ve been pulling glass shards from you for the last day.”
He reached for me, but I recoiled. "Archer, no—the shield."
“The shield died three days ago.”
A shudder tore through me, a cry too soft to be heard. "Damien placed the shield—"
Archer nodded, the weight of his gaze steady. “Quells can manifest, grow stronger. Damien's ability was rare—he could shield minds, twist them to his will. He made you believe.”
Naraic knew. And once again, I was left with the shattered fragments of myself, scattered along a path I no longer recognized. If I could call it greatness…
But I didn’t feel great.
I wasn’t worthy .
Archer’s arms wrapped around me, gentle, almost reverent. I leaned into him as he carried me down the hall, his warmth grounding me as we entered a bathing room.
An aide had already drawn a steaming bath. Archer shrugged the blanket from my shoulders and eased me into the tub, my spine to him.
“Did you… take care of me?” I whispered.
“Always,” he murmured. “I thought I was protecting you. Keeping distance was the only way I knew to keep you safe.” His voice dropped, softer now. “How is your heart?"
I turned my face toward him, though the weight of his gaze stilled me. “How did you react when Klaus died?”
Silence stretched, his hand gentle as he ran a cloth over the mark on my spine, tracing beneath my ribs. “I despised the world.”
I sobbed into the warmth of the water, a sharp pain radiating from the scar.
I didn’t want to say his name. “Damien was my friend, Archer. I cared about him.”
His voice cracked. “I wish… I wish I knew the version of him you did.”
Why did you have to die?
No answer came.
His fingers brushed my cheek, lingering on the faded scar where Estella’s stitch had once been. “Most things that survive without light are the strongest. And the shadows of my realm will devour every last fold that clings to you. “He paused. “I am truly sorry you are my heir, Severyn.”
I stared at the rising steam, my thoughts far too scattered. "I need to understand this."
I spent the next week healing, and every night, Archer carried me to the tub and gently washed my injuries. By the eighth night, I was able to walk there myself, and Archer joined me, kneeling beside the tub with his hands resting under his chin.
The mark on my back worsened with each passing day, bloodied flakes of skin drifting to the surface of the sudsy water.
What Archer made me feel was something I’d only read about.
The way his fingers grazed my skin was reserved for the pages of stories where a prince saves a damsel, but we weren’t in those kinds of tales.
We had saved each other in ways I couldn’t even begin to explain.
And I realized, deep in the ache of my bones, that I trusted him with everything—my life, my heart, even the parts of me I barely understood.
I searched for a savior in myself, but I never considered the shadow.
I leaned back against the stone bath, the flickering glow of a chandelier casting soft shadows across the room.
Ravensla had become my second skin. I’d always wanted the sun’s warmth, but I never imagined how beautiful the stars could be.
The moon was softer, more comforting than the sun’s harsh heat—and maybe that’s why Archer kept this realm hidden from me.
He knew that, once I saw it, once I breathed in the lavender-tinged air beneath this sky, I’d fall in love with the Night.
As we rode horseback through the crowded streets, I saw her—the woman I could have been. Veravine’s portrait hung in the corner of my mind, a reminder of a title I could never truly claim. The thought of it made my stomach twist. Deep down, I knew it belonged to Damien, not me.
We walked through the Valley of Night, the stars above us shimmering like soft whispers.
The distant hum of music felt like it belonged to this world, slow and seductive, guiding us along.
I’d seen this image in Archer’s eyes before, but he’d hidden it from me, masked its beauty until it seemed more like a distant dream than a reality.
I wore a backless gown, the night air cool against my mark, as Archer’s hand slid into mine, fingers entwining. The broken remnants of the Malvoria army’s destruction had faded, though I had seen his guards hauling away the last of the debris.
He grinned, nodding toward the crystalline peaks in the distance. “I wanted you to see this during the Winter Solstice. The snow-capped mountains—they’re brilliant. Perhaps it will make it feel like home.”
Winter was closer than I realized.
I turned to face him, my fingers brushing his jaw before I pulled him close, needing to feel the heat of him against me.
Our breaths synced, his hand slipping around my waist, pulling me into him.
A thunderstorm rumbled in the distance, and when our lips finally met, I moved onto his lap, my hands running down his arms, memorizing every muscle, every curve of him beneath the fabric.
“The shield... it’s really gone?” I whispered against his lips.
“It’s gone,” he murmured, his voice low, almost dangerous. “I can touch you however I please.”
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