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Bridger laughed. “I would never stoop as low as your father. Instead, I’ll watch you slip and fall to your death.

It’s time a new leader took over the North.

His wards are already failing. If he wasn’t screwing that neval mother of yours, maybe he would’ve learned more about shields at the academy. ”

Bridger would break me.

He would claim our family’s title. The ache in my lungs tempted me to give in.

“My father is a great Serpent. The frozen lands are known for their extreme climates. You can’t change that.” The wind gusted again, and I clung to the wall, my cloak snagged on the ice.

The tip of his boots edged over in fearless spite. “I won’t allow another Blanche to destroy my home. ”

I was a quarter down, and Bridger’s eyes hadn’t left my hands. If I fell now—best case, I’d break my legs, and the worst case, my neck. Or maybe that was the other way around. Perhaps death would be kinder than living under Bridger’s authority.

I needed to jump. I could survive with a broken arm, maybe a rib if I managed to roll. I tried to kick a hole into the ice, but only shavings came off. Grunting, I reached for the dagger against my hip, jamming my knee against a rock.

My foot slipped, and the ice crumbled under my weight. Pain shot through my hips as I hit the solid ground. I rolled onto my side with a groan, white-knuckling a button on the cloak. Myla’s hand appeared above me, her figure framed by a swirling cloud of storms.

Her soft brown gaze pulled me through the labyrinth of snow as I reached for her. “Thank you,” I stuttered.

I survived the wall.

“At least there’s plenty of ice to soothe that welt you’ll have after that fall.” She warmed me with her slight touch, pulling me against her side. Her presence reminded me of embers crackling beneath a flame, her gentle, soothing strokes along my arms calming the pain.

I tried my best not to imagine the bodies beneath me.

Desperate for any distraction from the shooting pain, I kept talking to Myla. “How do you enjoy the cold?”

“I’ve never even seen snow before,” Myla said, a hint of pride lacing her voice. “I’m quite proud of myself for scaling down that mountain.”

“Why were you chosen for Winter?” I asked. “Your father is a Serpent?”

“My father was the Serpent for Icillian for thirty years before he died. I had no idea. The surprise on my face when he shipped me my inheritance, a whole sword collection from the Forgotten days,” she said.

“We’re called children of offering—where a Serpent has children with another realm in hopes of enhancing their bloodline. Turns out, I was his only child.”

“You never knew?”

“No,” she said, stretching with a groan. “It makes sense why I was placed in Winter now. Makes me feel connected to him in a way. My mother, on the other hand, is a seamstress. She made gowns for the Serpents of my country.”

“My brother got placed in Day. I thought Winter was my entire bloodline until three hours ago.”

“My guess is you were part of the offering bid they had. I’m sure a lot of students here are mixed. It’s going to cause for some interesting trial days.”

I shivered, and Myla wrapped her arms around my shoulders again. “My parents met here, actually,” I whispered into her wool cloak. “I don’t imagine we get much free time here?”

The same student who went first crossed his arms over his chest. Shadowed beneath the scruffed fur of his cloak, he stared on. “We should keep walking the trail. I’m Hunter. Born in Winborrow,” he said. “I’m not usually a dick, but, hey, first impressions matter.”

Myla and I nodded. Walking seemed better than waiting for death to find us. Bridger was just another like him—trying to be the first in his bloodline to win a title.

Amid the murmurs, I learned that only Myla and I were born of Serpents. Some of the others had distant grandfathers who’d worn the title decades ago, and now they were trying to earn it back. More than half of the students here wanted to kill me. They wanted what I had.

But how could I explain how sheltered I’d been? How I’d felt the sun for the first time just yesterday? How I felt weak—entitled even—to believe I deserved to be called Serpent?

Knox didn’t carry the weight of a hundred-year legacy on his shoulders .

In a clearing, six cabins lined the ocean of slushed ice.

The beach, covered in frozen sea urchins and starfish, clung to rocks.

It seemed wrong for the ocean to freeze, to gaze along the coast and see that black abyss of shadows crawling with each wave.

The wind died against the trees slowly, thankfully.

I knew I wouldn’t reach the Serpent Rite if I didn’t rest my aching joints—I knew Bridger wouldn’t let me make it that far.

I wondered what Knox was doing and if he was enjoying the Daylight realm. I couldn’t imagine anything worse than scaling down a frozen wall. What kind of initiation was he placed through? If he, too, had begged for his life to be spared tonight.

The academy will break you. Had my innocent gaze cried enough ice to prove my worth as I thought of those grey corpses?