Page 1 of Burning Heir

Chapter One

The air felt too thick, like the calm before something wild. The griffins beyond the peaks were restless—whether from fear or something rarer, I didn’t know. No one ventured into the iced lands anymore. No one came back.

I hated the cold. But I hated visitors more. Not since Klaus’s death had I dreaded a knock more than I dreaded this one.

Father had warned me my letter was coming. But not during Thaw. Not with the chill still clinging to the air. When the mail carrier arrived, his footsteps too loud, I barely looked at him as he handed over three letters. But only one mattered.

One stood out—red ink scrawled across my name. Red meant death. These letters didn’t just deliver news. They chose us. If I was worthy, I would go to the Serpent Academy. If not, surely I’d be married off to a ruler and forced into a loveless marriage.

Out of five siblings, I was the last one left. The last to be chosen.

Cully glanced at me as the letters settled on the table. “Is that the mail?” he asked, his voice low. He already knew what he was getting—a routine assignment, the usual Valscribe journaling.

Knox, standing beside him, smirked. “Let’s open them on three, yeah? Then maybe I’ll have time to run before Charles drags me off to Malvoria to become a guard.” He tugged at the golden envelope in his hand, a gleam in his eyes.

Cully grinned, then shot a glance at me. “We could always burn them. Who’d know?”

Knox rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “Right, because throwing them into the fire is totally going to work when Father’s wards fall apart when he has no heir?”

Cully eyed Knox’s golden letter, his glasses catching the light. “That doesn’t look like a Malvoria invitation. A golden letter? That’s from the Capital. What’d you do this time?”

Knox shrugged. “Let’s get this over with.”

I ran my fingers over the iridescent scales on my envelope, feeling the cold seep through my skin. “One…” Cully started, his voice pulling me back to the moment.

“Two,” Knox muttered, already tearing into his.

“Three,” I whispered, my breath shallow. “Serpent.” The word fell from my lips before I could stop it. The seal stared back at me. The academy had lost its mind, sending me.

Cully frowned at his own envelope. “Maybe we should just run.”

A sick feeling crawled up my spine, choking out the air in my lungs. Fear, mixed with something else—something like freedom, but too dangerous to be real.

Knox’s grin spread wider as he read his letter, disbelief giving way to excitement. “I got Serpent,” he said, voice low, almost reverent. “I’ve been chosen to compete for Father’s title.”

I froze, my breath catching in my throat. “But you aged out last year,” I protested, my pulse hammering. I couldn’t face Knox in a battle for the throne. I couldn’t—I wouldn’t survive.

Cully and I exchanged a look, the weight of it settling between us. Blood versus blood. If Father had his way, neither of us would be chosen, but Knox wasn’t even looking at us anymore. He was already imagining the throne.

The door creaked open, and Charles stepped in, boots heavy with snow, his presence commanding. His gaze flicked to mine, and I knew—this was no ordinary letter.

This was my future. And Charles was here to ensure one of us became Father’s heir. This was turning into a family reunion sooner than I expected. Gods, why was Charles here?

He shrugged off his coat and hung it on the serpent-shaped hook by the stairs. Mother rushed to greet him like the golden son he was. “Charlie! My goodness,” she trilled, half-hugging his waist. “I’m so thankful you could come and celebrate with your siblings. We have two prosperous heirs chosen.”

Charles’s expression remained unreadable as he joined us in the kitchen. His eyes scanned the torn envelopes on the table, lingering on mine and Knox’s. “Well,” he said, his voice smooth, “let me be the first to congratulate you both. Given Father’s health, I pulled a few strings and secured Knox a chance at the Serpent Academy.”

My breath caught, sharp and cold. “Most students don’t survive their first year at the Serpent Academy. What do you expect to happen between us?”

Charles smirked, ruffling my hair. “Lovely as ever, Severyn.” He turned to Cully, eyeing his scorned letter. “They’re sending you to journal at the prison again?”

Cully’s shoulders slumped. “I still haven’t had an article published in the Serpent Press. I expected this. It’s like Valscribe wants me to fail.”

Most noble children attended the Serpent Academy, but anyone could, provided they had the courage to kill. Leaders weren’t born—they were forged, stripped to the bone until something stronger emerged.

But I was still sifting through the pieces of myself since Klaus’s death. This would be my death, just as it had been his.

In another life, I might have had a choice. Life. Death. To live. But here? Herding sheep was out of the question, and ruling a land felt as impossible as flying without wings.

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