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Archer stormed in at the first crack of dawn, gaze locking onto the blades buried in my pillow. “What happened?” he demanded.

“Someone wants me dead,” I said flatly, motioning to the shredded pillow behind me.

“You should’ve come to my room.”

I rolled my eyes. “And let everyone talk? An heir sleeping in her leader’s room is quite scandalous.”

He exhaled, slow and tight. “It’s easier this way.”

“For who?”

His gaze faltered. “I won’t let my reckless choices become your burden.”

My voice cracked. “Am I just a desire to you?”

The words slipped out too easily, and I hated how much I meant them. Maybe Damien had gotten to me more than I realized.

A knock rattled the door, but Archer slammed his palm against it, barring whoever waited outside. Then he looked down at me.

“Is that what you really think?”

I lifted my chin. “Yes. And I don’t want this.”

His gaze dropped to my lips, then lowered slowly. “I think you like being my desire,” he said .

I stepped closer, rising to meet his stare. “You’re wrong.”

He didn’t blink. “Your cheeks are flushed.” Then slowly, he moved his hand down the bodice of my gown, thumb circling over my nipple. “And I would bet you are soaked from the thoughts of me wanting to take you against this damn door.”

“Wrong again.”

“Then show me.”

I opened my mouth to answer, but the knock came again, louder this time. Charles’s voice rang out. “Severyn, we need to talk.”

I crossed my arms. “He’s waiting.”

“We’re not done,” Archer growled. Then, he grabbed my wrist, tugging me flush against him. His mouth brushed my ear. “You enjoy this. You love seeing me risk everything for you.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“Do I have permission?”

“Yes.” I wasn’t entirely sure what I was agreeing to, but the wild gleam in his eyes didn’t feel dangerous.

Then his hand slipped beneath the hem of my gown, gliding up my thigh until his fingers brushed the heat between my legs.

“You’re dripping wet at the thought of me wanting you,” he murmured.

His finger slipped through my wet folds, and I held back my moan, smothering my mouth against his neck. Then I felt the unmistakable hardness pressing against my stomach.

“I could say the same about you,” I said.

His jaw tightened. “The only reason you’re not bent over that cot right now is because I have enough respect not to fuck you in a room where everyone in this damn institute could hear you moan.”

My breath caught as he pulled his hand out. “So I am just a desire to you. ”

“No,” he said, his hand curling around the back of my neck. “A desire is something I want. You’re something I have.”

Then his mouth was on mine, all tongue and tangled heat. I reached for his belt, but he caught my wrists and pinned them above us in one swift motion.

Another knock shook the door before Archer broke the kiss, his chest rising and falling hard.

“Come in,” I called, trying to hide the shake in my voice as Archer set me gently back on the floor.

Charles stepped inside. “Severyn, we need to talk.”

Archer didn’t move. “Then talk.”

Charles gave a stiff nod. “We searched the records from the old Serpent gatherings. Your mother met privately with one Serpent eighteen times. The records only identify him as ‘F.’”

“F?” I echoed, brows furrowing. “Who could that be?” Gods, I couldn’t think of a single Serpent whose name started with that letter.

Charles shrugged. “The journalist used ‘I’ to refer to Andri. But ‘F’—it only appears in connection to her private meetings.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” I said. “Why use letters at all?”

“It’s shorthand,” Charles replied. “For fast note-taking.”

Archer spoke then, voice low. “It’s not an initial.”

I turned to him. “Then what?”

“F for flame,” he murmured. “Her father wields flame. Summer-blooded. Andri is ‘I’ for ice.”

“Could be,” Charles said. “Attend the next Summer gathering. Eight Summer Serpents wield flame. These meetings… they don’t read like formal visits.”

My breath caught. “What do you mean?”

Charles hesitated. “We don’t know her state of mind. But the timing lines up. We’re also cross-referencing prison records and checking for Seekers who were captured around that time. ”

I stared at him. “But how would she know? No one can predict if someone will have a daughter.”

“There are ways to predict lineage,” Charles said. “A Seeker once read Andri’s bloodline before he entered the academy. I’m surprised Victor didn’t catch it.”

My stomach twisted. “So… Mother planned this? She planned an affair to conceive a daughter all to spite Victor?”

Charles didn’t answer. Instead, he turned to Archer. “Take her to the Summer gathering tomorrow. She needs to understand how Serpents commune. You know the customs.”

I swallowed hard. “Where is it?”

“No,” Archer said sharply. “We’re not going.”

“Wrathi,” Charles replied before turning to leave. “A Summer realm. Perfect place to find your father.”

Once the door shut behind him, I turned to Archer. “Did you know they can predict bloodlines?”

His gaze darkened. “Seekers can. But it’s an outdated, twisted practice.”

I wondered if he’d ever had his lineage read. Victor seemed like the type to want one, especially if he’d used a Seeker to survive Ravensla.

“How bad are these parties?” I asked, stepping closer. “Why are you so against me going?”

Archer’s jaw tensed. “Because there’s a part of me I don’t want you to see.”

I tilted my head. “What, do you turn into a beast at night?”

His laugh was dry. “No, Severyn. It’s dangerous. I don’t have a shield to protect myself or you.”

“I’m still going,” I said, sharper now. “And if you choose not to come, that’s on you.” I let my hand drift across his chest. “Unless you’ll let me shield you with my flame.”

His brow arched. “I’m sensing a power imbalance.”

“Funny. That’s how I felt at the academy. ”

“This isn’t the same, and you know it,” he snapped.

“Then prove it,” I said. “Come with me. I need you to see that I can defend myself… and you.”

He exhaled through his nose. “Fine. But you’re changing out of that gods-damned wedding gown.”

A grin tugged at my lips. “Don’t like me in white?”

The heat in his eyes startled me. “Not when it was sewn for another man.”

I hadn’t expected the possessiveness in his tone, but gods, it curled something low in my stomach.

“What do I wear to a Serpent gathering, then?” I asked.

“When we get back to Demetria,” he said. “I’ll help you choose a few options.” His fingers brushed the delicate strap on my shoulder. “If this wasn’t handmade, I’d slice it clean off.”

“It’s a nice gown,” I murmured.

“So is the one I want you in.”

“Oh, so now you’re choosing what I wear?”

“If it were up to me,” he said, leaning closer, “you’d be wearing nothing but my hands.”

An instant rush of heat surged to my skin. I turned and slammed my flame against the wall, tearing a portal open with a hiss. Shit . I was nearly overheating.

His grip caught my shoulder, steady but firm. “Let’s try your shadow portal.”

“I told you,” I said quietly, “my shadows aren’t strong.”

He cocked a brow. “You know, it isn’t very nice to lie.”

“I’m not lying. They’re… weaker.”

“Because you’ve been siphoning them to a certain guard?”

I lifted my chin. “How do you know?”

“I knew the moment you couldn’t cast a shade on our birthday. Why didn’t you tell me? ”

“Because I bartered them,” I said quietly. “He was going to brand me in front of everyone and reveal my Serpent mark before it was time.”

His expression turned cold. “Don’t use your quell. Just find the shadows. Will them. Powers can grow.”

I opened my palm and reached for the chill, for the pulse I hadn’t trusted in weeks. His hand cupped my jaw, steadying me.

“Will them, Sev.”

A flicker of shadow curled beneath my fingertips.

“I can’t hold it,” I whispered.

“Yes, you can.”

I pushed harder, and the shadows thickened, coiling up my arm. They slithered across our skin, drenching us in onyx rain.

“Through the shadows,” I murmured. “Quickly. I can’t hold it.”

Mist swallowed the air, thick and cold. I lifted my hand higher, forcing the power to rise and obey.

“You are the heir of Night,” Archer said, his voice low and certain. “Find your home.”

I closed my eyes and imagined the dark plains of Demetria. Then the world dropped out from beneath our feet.

We hit the ground hard. The impact rattled through my bones, sharp and jarring, but when I looked down, my hand was still intact. Maybe Antonia had been right, that shadow portaling really was the safer option.

I straightened slowly, the ground cool beneath my palms.

“The first time I traveled through flame,” I said, my voice quiet now, “I swear I saw Veravine… and I think your grandfather. It felt like a memory.”

Archer stilled, brow furrowing. “It could be. That flame was hers.”

“They were fighting over a dragon egg. ”

“That flame didn’t just pass to you, it remembered her,” Archer said. “That’s the strange thing about antecedent powers.”

I wasn’t sure what unsettled me more: that I’d seen into my grandmother’s past… or that it had reached me through my flame.

We stepped into the estate. In the front hall, Amria looked up from a lone wooden chair and gasped. “Archer,” she breathed. “Severyn, how did the wedding go?”

He gave a short nod, brushing past her. “I stole her at the threshold.”

Amria turned to me for the real answer. “He didn’t steal me,” I sighed. “The wedding was null. Apparently, my mother had an affair, so we’re off to find my real father.”

Amria lifted a single strawberry-blonde brow. “Oh?”

Without turning, Archer said, “Find a Serpent gown for Severyn. Something that instills chaos.”

She blinked. “Oh. Well… I’m not sure how to knit chaos into a gown.”

I smiled faintly. “Find anything, Amria. I’ll make it work.”

“Oh no, I’m knitting chaos into a gown,” she muttered, already hurrying off.

I turned back to Archer. “I’m glad to be rid of Damien,” I said, exhaling. “Even if just for a bit.”