Page 34

Malachi Herring— The Final Serpent Trial

Damien stood to my left. Knox was two places down, with Lydia of the Spring realm and Bridger between us, forming the final five contenders in the face-off for heir.

Soon, it would be a battle to the death. The crowd always loved watching the king’s grandchildren fall.

Adina was poisoned in her sleep during her second year.

She lasted longer than most, but not by much.

Iris trusted the wrong friend. Her daggers disappeared the morning of her trial, and a beast took her before she could scream.

Vanya’s death came quickly. Grief had hollowed her out before the trial even began.

Reid drowned. They said his trial key was lost, but I heard the one who found it still wears it like a trophy, a prize for killing a Herring.

And William bled out with a dagger in his chest, fighting for a sword.

A red-handled blade Severyn later won from Callum. I never told her what it meant.

I didn’t know what kind of death would come for me. Only that it would. We weren’t bred for thrones. We were bred for blood. The Herrings were never tyrants. Just easy targets in a world that worships legacy and hungers for war .

Damien lifted his hand, waving to the crowd like he’d already won. That was enough to ground me in the now.

I turned to him, voice low and sharp. “Why the hell was I barred from even saying your name during Severyn’s titling?”

He rolled his shoulders, calm as ever. “Because this is my game, Mal.”

A flicker of something passed through his eyes.

Maybe it was fondness. Maybe it was something darker, buried beneath the calm tilt of his mouth.

“This way,” he said, voice low, almost gentle, “we don’t have to choose between our lives.

” He smiled then, faintly, like he already knew how this would end. “She never would’ve made it this far.”

The headmaster raised his hand, the light catching through the swirling snow flurries. I knew the moment he lowered it, all hell would break loose.

“She’s in love with your brother,” I said. “The entire Continent has heard wind of their romance all because of Cully’s article in the Serpent Press.”

“It’s all part of the plan. Archer is imprisoned, isn’t he?” Damien’s hazel eyes flickered toward the ground, before he beamed a smile in my direction. “When I win, she’ll become my wife.”

I had no time to respond. The headmaster’s arm dropped to his side, and a chorus of drums thundered through the arena, silencing the crowd.

“Welcome to the final trial at the Serpent Academy!” his voice rang out. “Today, we are joined by visitors from across the Continent to bear witness as one courageous student fulfills their legacy. The final five will face the lindworm, and only one will rise as a Serpent heir.”

A cold realization hit me as I stared at Damien. “You… you were never her friend. Why? ”

He straightened, rolling his neck back. “Severyn was always mine. I knew she would become my wife someday, when Archer gained his shadows. I created her, aided her to win. I even became her friend like the gentleman I am. Now, we don’t have to choose between our lives.

” He drew a sword sheathed at his back. “I thought the wind heard all, Mal? I guess not this secret.”

“You’re fucking crazy. I won’t let you back in her life.”

“I helped her. She would’ve died without me.”

At the arena’s edge, a lone journalist wrote down every detail he saw. Then his eyes snapped to mine, and I knew he’d want a quote for his tabloid. “Miss Herring, any last words for the Serpent Press?”

“Sure,” I said sweetly, then flashed a ringed middle finger at his face. “Write this, you asshole.”

Damien turned to the journalist with a grin sharp enough to cut glass.

“Tell my realm the Lynches will always protect their civilians,” he called, loud enough for the crowd to hear.

Then, lowering his voice just enough to make it personal, he added with a wink, “Feel free to embellish. You know, whatever sappy shit the civilians eat up.”

I snapped my fingers at the journalist. “His real name is Damien Asshole Lynch. That’s my final quote for your dumb story.”

Damien groaned. “Please don’t print that or I’ll never hear the end of it from my father.”

The journalist nodded, then slowly backed up. “ Ugh , shit. I should probably move before I die.”

“Release the beast!” a guard bellowed from the field. Another stepped forward and, with a single clean arc of his blade, severed the iron chains buried deep in the earth.

Damien and I turned. Then all five of us froze.

“Oh, shit,” Knox muttered. “Why does it have to be a snake? Why not, I don’t know, a swarm of magical butterflies? ”

The ground trembled. A jagged crack split the dirt open, forming a crater that belched dust into the air. From the void, a massive serpent surged upward—scales like obsidian, slick and shining. Its hiss split the silence, sharp as a blade to the throat.

It rose, higher and higher, until its full height towered above the field. Over thirty feet of coiled menace, its body was edged in curved black horns that caught the light like weapons forged from night.

I didn’t wait.

One of my daggers flew, slicing across its lower half with a sharp, satisfying hiss.

Knox darted forward. “Aim better,” he said, his feet pounding against the ground as he ran after the snake.

Then it slid back into the crater, tearing up dirt and debris in its wake. I stumbled a step, wiping a slick of wet sludge from my cheek as a voice curled through my mind like the wind.

“Win, my love,” Monty said softly. “So one day we can be free.”

“I’ll survive,” I answered, steadying myself. “I promise.”

The promise was more for me than for Monty. This was what all my siblings had fought for. A Herring wouldn’t bleed for show. I wouldn’t scream. I would rise, like the wind from the Eastern Autumn lands. Or I’d die trying.

Maybe Knox was right. Magical butterflies sounded like a hell of a lot safer option than a fully matured lindworm.

He stood at the edge of the crater, peering down like it might swallow him next. “Anyone got a torch?” he called out. “Seriously. Anyone?”

Lydia and the others circled the hole where the snake had vanished. I jogged to Knox, dropping my voice so Damien couldn’t hear. “If I don’t make it, keep Damien away from Severyn. Promise me, cousin. ”

His glare slid to Damien, who was busy waving to his father like this was some royal parade.

“Gladly,” he muttered. “I’d kill the bastard myself if I could. Never liked him.”

A flicker of relief passed through me.

My stomach muscles clenched as I stepped toward the crater’s edge.

It was massive, nearly wide enough to fit three horses side by side.

The whole ‘kill a magical snake to win a crown’ tradition had never made much sense to me.

Honestly, it felt cruel. I was the kind of person who caught and released bugs. But this was it. Now or never.

“It curves toward Autumn,” I said to Knox, eyeing the faint line in the dirt.

“Or Day,” Lydia added softly. “Could be either.”

Knox squinted into the dark. “Let’s be real. We’re staring into a black hole and none of us can see a damn thing.” Then, without warning, he jumped and vanished into the pit. “No sense standing around. One of us has a trial to win.”

That moment before a bloodbath was always the most awkward. Or so I’d heard. Who would swing first? Who’d break the unspoken truce? Tradition said we waited until only two were left standing. But tradition, like blood, spilled easily.

Damien stepped up behind me, his presence brushing too close. “Want a piggyback? For old time’s sake?” He held out a hand, grinning like this wasn’t about to end in death. “We used to be friends, Mallie.”

We had, back when we were kids dragged to Serpent gatherings by our fathers. Back when names didn’t weigh like chains and legacy was just a word, not a weapon. But that boy was long gone.

The man standing beside me now?

He was poison .

I scoffed and ignored his outstretched hand. “I’m not a damsel, Damien. Be grateful my uncle denied our marriage bid five years ago. I would’ve poisoned you in your sleep.”

“Don’t hold your breath, Mal. One of us will be heired.” Then he leaned in, his breath skimming my cheek. “And once Severyn becomes my wife, we’ll be family, won’t we? Cousin-in-laws.”

Fury tightened in my chest. “She’s Archer’s heir. That bargain died the moment he claimed her.”

Damien’s smile twisted. “The glorious thing about prison? Archer’s word doesn’t matter anymore. Treason rewrites everything.”

And with that, he jumped into the crater.

“You could try being normal!” I called after him, unsure if he even heard me.

I followed. The cold hit first, then the dark. The tunnel swallowed the light, swallowed the sound. Knox and the others were already gone.

Now it was just me, Damien, and the dark.

“You sound desperate,” I said, trying to keep my voice even.

“And you sound scared,” he replied, calm as ever.

“I’m not scared.”

“You should be,” he murmured. “Everyone’s out for blood. And yours, Mal? Yours is particularly tempting.”

I quickened my pace. I couldn’t see him, but his voice curled behind me now, close and wrong.

“I want out of this godsdamn tunnel,” I muttered, pushing faster.

“Does Severyn know you love Monty?” His voice sharpened. “Or that the man who tried to kill her wasn’t just some fling, like you pretended?”

“Get out of my head. ”

“You don’t even want the title,” he said. “You just want to survive long enough to prove you can. You wear silence like armor and call it strength. Maybe try letting someone in for once.”

“I don’t love Monty,” I snapped.

“Lie to yourself all you want. But I know you, Mallie. I always have.”

A flicker of light broke at the end of the tunnel. I moved fast and desperately. The wind surged ahead, brushing my cheek with a whisper I couldn’t tell was mine or something deeper.

Run.

The wind was telling me to run. And this time, I listened.

“Say you don’t love him,” Damien called from behind. “Say it to my face.”

I didn’t look back. “I don’t.”

Something struck hard against my ribs. My breath caught, then broke.

“Shit,” I gasped, stumbling to my knees. I didn’t see the blood at first, not until the pain turned sharp and wet, and the dirt beneath me bloomed red. It spread fast, the color so dark it bled into black.

I didn’t see his hand shift again until the glass shard plunged into my chest, straight through the heart. Honestly, I hadn’t thought he had it in him. Pain tore down my spine. I collapsed, choking, blood flooding through my fingers as I clutched the wound at my ribs.

“No.” I gasped, the world tilting, spinning, blurring at the edges.

Damien knelt beside me, turning my body to face him. “Six feet under, Mal. Just like the rest of your family. A part of you wanted this, didn’t you?”

I clawed at the glass, fingers slick with blood, but the shard was buried too deep. Every breath tore through me like fire .

“I won’t let you have her,” I rasped, the words barely more than breath. “Even if I die—”

“Monty!” I tried to scream, but it came out as a wet, gurgled croak. No one answered. “Monty, help!”

Damien leaned in. “I hate that it had to be me.”

I didn’t want his hazel eyes to be the last thing I saw, but I needed to know. “Then why?”

His hand brushed my cheek, almost tender. “Because if you die, it proves you’re the Herring they warned about. And we both know Monty tried to kill Severyn at the Academy. He’ll try again.”

I held my breath and, for a moment, stopped my own heart. Then I let my body go slack. And he bought it.

“I’m sorry, Mal,” he said, and left me there to die.

I forced my hand forward, dragging myself inch by inch toward the faintest glint of light. I angled my body, trying not to jolt the wound, praying no more dirt worked its way into the gash. I didn’t want to imagine the pain of pulling the glass free. Hopefully, I’d be unconscious by then.

I swallowed hard as a fresh wave of nausea rolled through me, shaking my entire body with a sick blend of adrenaline and fury. I was so close. Just a few more feet. I must’ve been crawling for nearly an hour, maybe more. Honestly, I’d blacked out a few times.

Then my arms gave out. I collapsed, gasping as the glass shard drove deeper into my ribs, I swore it was edging my fucking heart. A groan tore from my throat, too raw to bite back.

But I didn’t stop.

I reached for the light like it was a lifeline, the last thread of sun I could grip in a world gone dark.

Three more pulls. That’s all it took.

I collapsed over the edge, half in the crater, half out. My breath came shallow, frayed at the edges .

“You bastard,” I rasped, eyes fixed on the trails of Summer. The heat hit like a slap. Of course, bleeding out wasn’t enough. Now I’d get a sunburn, too. Gods, if this ended with an open casket... I’d look like hell. And I had the best skin of anyone I knew.

And there it was.

The lindworm’s massive body convulsed in the dirt, caught in its final spasms. Two blades pierced its thick, silvery hide—one driven in by Bridger. The other... Damien.

A Herring’s blood had stained the academy grounds. Maybe the gods wanted me to survive. Maybe I would. But the real question wasn’t whether I’d live. It was who would kill the Herring first. And the answer was already soaked into the dirt.

Damien. Asshole. Lynch.