Page 48

“Don’t move,” Damien hissed. “Not another inch.”

I froze as a pair of dimly glowing yellow eyes hovered just above the mist.

Death dweller.

“Damien…” My voice cracked. I looked to where Archer had been sleeping. “Where is he?”

“Oh, he ran after the beast,” Damien said with a shrug.

“What?”

He sighed. “I’m sorry you have the luxury of sleeping through attacks. We’ve been awake for hours. Honestly, it’s been kind of nice having a heart-to-heart with my big brother.”

I thrust my palm forward, the flame sparking to life. “Get back!”

The dweller didn’t flinch, it lunged.

Its shackled paw tore through the flimsy shelter we’d built from branches and leaves. Its hot breath hit my chest. It reeked of iron and decay.

“I am… the heir of Night,” I whispered, trying to command. Trying to believe it mattered. “Stand down.”

Damien’s bitter laugh echoed beside me. “You think it understands titles? ”

I needed heat. I needed light. Anything to drive the cold back.

“Well, I don’t know!”

The beast slammed its paw into my chest. Something cracked deep inside, maybe my ribs, hopefully nothing worse.

“Kill it,” I gasped, locking onto the dagger in Damien’s hand. “Damien, please—kill it.”

“Its claw’s too close to your vein,” he said. “If I strike, the venom might flood your system.”

“So?” My voice cracked, pain searing through me in waves. “Then do something.”

“If it dies, more will come.”

Suddenly, a dagger sliced through the mist and buried itself in the creature’s side. It shrieked, then collapsed on top of me.

“I can’t breathe—no, really,” I gasped, squirming beneath the weight. “It’s too heavy.”

Then Archer was there.

He dragged the beast off me, tossing it aside with a grunt. “You’re hurt,” he breathed, his gaze raking over me twice. “Where did it strike you?”

“Archer…” I rasped. “It scratched me.”

“Severyn, you’re okay,” he said, pulling me close. “We’ll get you to Malvoria. They have healers.”

Even through the fog, the name made me flinch.

“Severyn is a runaway guard,” Damien cut in, his tone clipped. “And let’s not forget she broke into their prison and kidnapped one of their journalists.”

I drifted in and out, the ground shifting beneath me like it couldn’t decide whether to hold me or let me go.

My fingers clawed at the dirt, desperate to stay tethered to something real, something solid.

But the edges of the world were slipping, blurring, and deep down, I knew what was happening.

I was falling into a nightmare, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

“I’m fine,” I whispered, though I knew I wasn’t.

Archer pressed his palm to my chest. “You’re bleeding internally. You’ve been poisoned. This can’t wait. We’ll find your mother later.”

“No,” I murmured. “They might send you back. The prison—”

Light broke through the canopy, casting a gold halo over Archer’s soot-streaked face. “How far is her mother?” he barked.

Damien hesitated. “A ways up. I—I lost her voice during the night.”

“A ways up ?” Archer growled.

Damien’s face tightened. “I said I lost her voice.”

Archer gripped me tighter. “Then I’m taking Severyn to my healers.”

“And how exactly do you plan on getting there?” Damien snapped. “On foot?”

I touched Archer’s shoulder, my fingers barely able to curl. “Stop,” I whispered. “Stop fighting.”

Archer didn’t look away. “Admit it. You have no idea what you’re doing.”

Damien’s expression darkened. “You won’t make it to Demetria. Try to carry her across that border, and you’ll both be dead before sunset.”

“Then I’ll take my chances in Malvoria,” Archer said. “She needs help now .”

I clung to him as the world tilted and spun.

“The healers managed to stop the venom from spreading to her heart,” came Rok’s voice. “You are lucky, nightmare venom can ruin the mind of a person indefinitely.”

I stirred against the scratchy cot, pretending to be asleep still. Gods. I was back in this hellhole.

“We were searching for your mother,” Archer said. “You must know her whereabouts.”

And of course, my eldest brother was here, because the universe clearly had a sense of humor, and I knew the moment I got up, I wouldn’t hear the end of it.

Charles scoffed. “Searching for Fallon?” His voice dripped with disdain. “I knew you were planning treason the moment you hid that lindworm. Must I remind you she’s aligned with the Forgotten? The ones causing war on our Continent?”

“Just tell him,” Damien muttered. “He’ll find out soon enough.”

“Damien,” Archer warned. “It isn’t ours to tell.”

“If you’re withholding information about the Forgotten,” Charles cut in coldly, “the Malvoria army has every right to know, and we will find out. One way or another.”

The sharp hiss of steel cut through the air. Somewhere nearby, blades had been drawn. Men were fighting.

I forced myself upright with a groan as I saw the glint of a sword pressed to Archer’s throat. “Charles,” I said, voice tight. “Release him.”

He didn’t move. The blade remained against Archer’s skin.

“Now!” I barked. “Archer has done nothing wrong.”

Charles lowered the sword only just slightly. “He may be a Serpent,” he said, “but he’s not above Continent law. And frankly, I’m tired of Archer Lynch.”

“I’m not Father’s daughter,” I snapped. “And I was trying to find our mother to learn who is. ”

A blade clattered to the floor, but it wasn’t Charles’s. Myla stepped forward, hands raised. “Apologies for the disturbance.”

Charles turned to her with a scowl. “Reinhart, pull yourself together or leave.”

“Don’t speak to her like that,” I said.

Myla drew in a slow breath. “It’s fine,” she said quietly. “I should’ve controlled it better.”

But there was something in her face that stopped me. Maybe it came from the hours I’d spent beside her mother.

“What did you mean?” she asked softly. “You’re not your father’s daughter?”

“My mother had an affair,” I said. “I’m not Winter-blooded.”

“Is it true?” Charles asked, his voice sharp. “Unfortunately, I had prior obligations and wasn’t able to attend.”

Archer raised a brow. “I didn’t know,” he said quietly. “But it’s true. Severyn isn’t Andrias’s child. We were searching for Fallon to find out who is.”

Charles lowered the blade at last, jaw tight with restraint. “Myla,” he said, without looking at her, “search the records from the Serpent gatherings twenty years ago for anything tied to Fallon Blanche.”

Myla blinked, then nodded quickly. “Yes, sir.”

I asked Charles. “Why would Mother hide this? Why lie?”

“If not to shield us from shame, then to protect you,” he said tightly. “Father needed a daughter, and the Blanche bloodline bore only sons.”

“None of this makes sense,” I whispered.

“We’ll figure it out. But let’s hope your true bloodline didn’t come with a price, like being bartered away before you were born.”

Myla returned moments later, arms full of seven worn, leather-bound tomes. “This is all I could find,” she said, breathless. “The Serpents… kept a lot. ”

Charles snapped his fingers. “Bring in a journalist. Since my best one has mysteriously vanished, I have no choice but to involve others. Nothing leaves this room.”

From his corner, Rok smirked. “I’m good at keeping secrets.”

“This is a waste of resources,” Damien muttered. “Surely Malvoria has greater threats.”

“It involves the Forgotten,” Charles said. “If Severyn’s father is a Serpent, we need to know if he’s feeding them information about the Continent.”

Charles turned to Archer and Damien. “There are spare bunks in the western sector. Severyn needs rest. The infirmary doesn’t allow overnight wanderers.”

“I’m not leaving her,” Archer growled.

“I don’t care,” Charles said flatly. “This is a private ward. Every guest is accounted for. Severyn doesn’t need you hovering over her like a deprived beast.”

“I’ll be fine,” I cut in quickly, trying to defuse the heat between them. “Really. You both need rest. And a shower.”

From the corner, Rok muttered, “Three lone Serpents wandering the barren outskirts. They’ll heir anyone these days, won’t they?”

Archer didn’t answer. He only clenched his jaw, gave me one last look, and turned to follow Charles and Damien down the corridor.

Rok lingered as everyone else left.

He leaned against the far wall, my shadow now his—stretching toward the cot. Then he crossed the room in slow, deliberate strides and crouched beside me, chin tilted upward.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten our little barter, Severyn.”

“I want them back,” I said. “Our barter is over. ”

He leaned in closer. “A man willing to strip himself of his gifts to protect a woman isn’t noble,” Rok murmured. “Makes me wonder what exactly he was protecting between you two.”

“Then what is it?”

“A man in love.”

His fingers flexed just beneath my chin, and I felt the familiar pull of power, the way my flame stirred beneath my skin, tethered and trembling. It danced like he could pluck the ember from me and scatter it into dust.

“Love,” he said softly, “is perhaps our greatest weakness… and our most dangerous weapon.”

“Our barter is off,” I urged again. “I am no longer here.”

A slender shade slipped from Rok’s fingers. “Do you want it back? The shadows? People will begin to wonder why your power is weaker.” He smiled. “I’m guessing you kept that a secret.”

“I have nothing left to barter.”

“The shadow and flame will overload you,” Rok said smoothly. “I did you a favor when I siphoned part of your quell that day. I rather enjoyed your little gift.”

I scoffed. “Feel free to return it. I need it now that Archer’s lost his shadows.”

He twirled a sliver of darkness above my face. “It’s a vested quell, Severyn. Unique to the bearer. A dragon can only vest a quell once while bonded.”

My breath caught. “What does that mean?”

He grinned. “Figure it out.”

“These aren’t Ciaran’s shadows,” I said slowly.

“Archer siphoned some of his quell,” Rok confirmed, peeling open my palm. “And gave it to you.”