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I spent the night in Kian’s bunker. He had three fresh bruises blooming along his jaw from a duel he’d won just for the right to watch over me.

We sat on the wooden floor, a half-forgotten card game spread between us, the deck missing more cards than it had. Kian had found it tucked in a drawer and insisted we play.

Neither of us spoke until he placed his final card with a quiet, satisfied exhale. “I won, Sevy,” he said.

“We’re missing half the deck,” I pointed out.

He shrugged and gave a quick wink. “Still counts. I won.”

The mindless hours had been a blessing. For a little while, I didn’t have to think about Klaus. Or Archer. Or the war waiting outside these walls.

Rok stood guard at the door. Word of my forbidden quell had reached the main institute, and apparently, he’d been assigned to keep me alive or kill me, depending on which way the wind shifted.

Lorna still hadn’t woken. And it was only a matter of time before the Serpent Press ran the headline: Necromancer Heir Held in Malvoria.

Two days later, Toni and Fraser returned from the academy empty-handed .

“She’s not going back there,” I told them, as Toni brushed frost from her sleeves. “She died on those steps. She’s smarter than that.”

Toni sighed. Morning light bled across the training yard, catching the silver streaks in her braid. “No sign of her. But a hound caught her scent in the Spring realm. It was lost near the pools.”

Rok cracked his knuckles. “Send the Bribers. Anyone caught harboring Malachi Herring will be questioned for treason.” He pointed to a trembling journalist. “Front page. Write it.”

The journalist scrambled to jot it down. “Treason. Giant scorpions. Got it.”

Callum clapped his hands once. “Alright, heirs. Training time.”

He stalked down the line, coat flaring behind him, gaze sharp and merciless. “Wind will be against shadows,” he called. “Ice versus flame. My favorite.”

Bridger squared his shoulders. “And what good does tiring us out before a war actually do?”

Rok’s voice cut through the tension. “Your quells must be at their peak performance. Failure means death. The first heirs to fall in training will be the first sent to face the Forgotten. Better to lose the weak ones now.”

“That doesn’t apply to guards,” Callum added. “You rise your rank, you earn real defense roles.”

Then Rok's gaze landed on me. “And Severyn. If Callum wins against Kian, he earns the right to watch you. If Kian loses, he’s pushed back.”

My throat tightened.

I needed Callum to win. I couldn’t lose Kian, not when he was bound to protect me. Not when his death would be on my hands .

But the way Kian moved told me he had no intention of losing. Not for me. Not for anyone.

“Looks like we’re against each other,” Bridger said, stepping into view. Then he bowed twice.

Bowing before a duel was a sign of respect. Once was custom. Twice meant something deeper. But Bridger had never cared for tradition. Or respect. I didn’t understand why he did now.

“Great,” I hissed.

“What happened between us at the academy…” he said, voice lower, gentler, “it doesn’t matter. I was immature.”

I hesitated, then gave a tight nod. “Give it your all.”

Then Bridger lifted his palm, and only a soft dusting of snow drifted toward my collarbone. It was nothing compared to how I knew his power could truly feel.

I curled my fist into the ash at my feet, flame flickering low in my chest. “Don’t go easy on me.”

“You’re his daughter,” Bridger said, quiet but firm. “It feels wrong.”

I hurled the ash at his boots. “He didn’t care about you. I didn’t care about you. Hurt me… so you survive.” My voice cracked, sharper now. “You need to be pushed back in the line of heirs.”

Because I couldn’t let him be the first to face the Forgotten.

Because if he died, my father’s wards would fall.

A cold gust shoved me backward. Good . Get angry. I needed him to win. I needed to lose.

Caius shoved past me with a scowl. “Ash won’t injure anyone. Bring that flame up.” He raised both palms toward Bridger, his relic glowing at the center. “Bring it up!” he snapped. “I’m not losing because of you.”

Then a shard of ice slammed into my chest, knocking the breath from my lungs .

“I can’t,” I said, barely louder than a whisper.

He pursed his lips. “No blood of mine would surrender so willingly.”

More ice slammed into me, driving me to my knees. I could feel it creeping up my throat, beginning to crystallize every breath.

“He’s my land’s last hope,” I forced out through clenched teeth. “I can’t fight him. He’s my father’s heir. If he dies... my father won’t be strong enough to hold the shields.”

The embers in Caius’s hands flickered and dimmed as Myla joined her ice with Bridger’s. A brutal wind tore through the air, sharp and cold, slamming us both onto our backs. I clutched my throat, gasping against the burn of freezing air in my lungs.

“For fuck’s sake,” Caius rasped, struggling to breathe. “Front line, Severyn. You and me,” he choked, voice tight with desperation.

I forced my head to turn, vision blurring until it locked on Kian. “Lose,” I whispered. “You need to lose.”

I could handle Callum for one night. But I couldn’t survive losing Kian.

Without warning, shadows burst from Kian’s palm, slamming into Callum with such force that he dropped to his knees.

But then I saw it. Rok’s outstretched hand wasn’t aimed at Callum. It was aimed at Kian.

And in a single breath, the shadows snapped back. They recoiled from Kian’s grasp and surged into mine instead, flooding through me in a rush I hadn’t summoned.

Rok had siphoned my quell to help Kian win.

Kian stepped forward, planting his boot squarely against Callum’s chest. “I beat you,” he said, voice steady but cold. “And I’ll keep beating you until you learn to stay down. ”

Callum coughed, then smiled. “So you did,” he said. “Looks like you two will be the first to face the Forgotten.”

Then he shoved Kian’s leg away and climbed to his feet without another word. He didn’t look back. “Sleep well.”

I pushed through the circle and stormed up to Rok, jabbing a finger into his chest. “Why would you do that? Next time, ask before you steal my quell.”

He caught my wrists before I could shove him again, dragging me away from the others. “If he lost, you’d be locked in with Callum,” he said through clenched teeth. “I saved you from death.”

“Don’t you dare siphon from me again,” I hissed. “Or better yet, maybe I’ll go have a nice long chat with your stepfather.”

His grip tightened. “If you intentionally lose another battle, I’m sending you to the dungeons. Maybe a week without sunlight will smarten you up.”

Wrath simmered in my veins, hot and bitter. His forgiveness was nothing but leverage. And I was done bartering for survival.