Page 104 of Burning Heir

His darkness was still—so still it felt as though even the air dared not stir around him. “We’ve been fighting a century-long war for Verdonia’s lands,” he said finally. “The Forgotten Children want to reclaim what they believe is theirs. Centuries ago, when settlers arrived in Verdonia, they gained quells from the lands they were born into. But not everyone fit neatly into a realm. Some bonded with creatures—scorpions, snakes, spiders. They were outcasted, shoved into any realm that would take them.”

His voice grew quieter, darker. “The outcasts’ power frightened the king. When Cleminore took the throne, she turned on her own children, deeming them too dangerous. Most fled before they could be killed. The Forgotten have returned for revenge. But before that, they cursed the lands, severing them between seasons, light, and darkness. The original six God’s blood created the borders of the realms.”

“And my birthmark?” I asked.

Archer’s gaze bore into mine, unyielding. “Most nevals carry forbidden power. That’s why they’re after you.”

I bit my lip, tasting blood. “So the Bribers are working with the Forgotten?”

He shook his head. “I think the king is behind this. He found your mother and stripped her of her power. And now, he’s singled you out. Damien might be involved—”

“No,” I said sharply. “He wouldn’t betray me.”

Archer sighed, pressing his fingers to his temples. “I need you to keep being his friend. He can’t know we suspect him.”

I clenched my fists. “You’ve warded our conversations, but I can’t stop him from reading my thoughts.”

“You’re safe with me,” he said softly.

The unspoken tension between us lingered like a live wire. I dared to wonder—what were we? Allies? Enemies? Something in between?

Kian crossed his arms. “If you’re done conspiring, can we eat? I’m starving.”

Archer rolled his eyes but nodded. “Then we shall eat.”

Dinner was roasted chicken, steamed broccoli, and some southern delicacy of spiced peaches. I’d helped myself to seconds, even reaching for thirds of the peaches. The food at the academy was nothing compared to this, and the North never had any spices imported, at least not a large enough variety to be considered a delicacy.

I wondered how the second harvest went back home—if Sivil had planted a lush garden, if her daughters’ eyes lit up when they saw the basket of cabbage, knowing their bellies would be full that night. Today was a celebration for every land, and the Summer borders didn’t seem starved for food.

The aide joined us for dinner as if she were part of the Lynch family, and that told me everything I needed to know about them. Kian was polite, even offering to take care of the dishes so the aide could have the rest of the night off. I’d learned her name wasDella, and she was a refuge from a barren Spring realm. She’d lost her quell when the Forgotten raided her village.

After dinner, I sat in the bath for an hour, soothing my sore legs. The bruises and welts from Skyfall had dulled to a light brown. Slowly, I was healing, inside and out.

Archer had left a shirt of his for me to wear to bed. After my bath, I noticed the flicker of light under his doorway. The floorboards creaked as I went to the spare room and crawled into the unfamiliar bed, believing I had never touched such soft sheets as I sank into them.

I tried not to think of Damien and how wrong and naïve I was to believe he wanted to help me.

Power. He had chosen power. He was too kind for a cruel world, and I was too accepting of a friend—for anything he wanted to be. I would have taken those silent walks to class and believed I had found worth. I knew I deserved more, and maybe I found myself along the way.

I tugged those white sheets over my chest and glanced out the darkened windows.Glass. He was everywhere. Everywhere, I did not want him to exist. He was my cup at dinner that held my water, the reflection in the mirror. Could he see me now? Could my anger reach him from this far away, across the ocean?

“I’m pissed at you,” I huffed under my breath.

Pissed didn’t do my rage justice. I was done, but I still had to be his friend. I had to keep it up until I knew why, and this wasn’t because Archer had told me. It was because nothing would soothe my restless mind besides an answer I was satisfied with.

Sleep pulled me under its heavy wing, but nightmares held me there, clawing at my mind. I dreamt of a scorpion, its claws sinking into Klaus’s chest, its venom stealing the life from him. I woke screaming, my heart racing as shadows danced along the room’s edges.

The door slammed open, and Archer strode in, shirtless, a dagger clenched tightly in his hand—the same one he’d confiscated from under my dress earlier. His chest rose and fell with sharp breaths, his gaze sweeping every corner of the room.

“Why are you screaming?” he demanded, his voice edged with panic. His eyes darted from shadow to shadow, seeking danger.

With a hand over my heart, I managed, “Nightmare.”

His shoulders relaxed, and he lowered the blade, though his knuckles remained white around the hilt. “You scared me. I thought someone had broken in.”

I sat up, running trembling fingers through my hair. “I dreamt… a scorpion killed Klaus. It felt real, like it was my enigma that did it.” The words tumbled from my lips, disjointed and raw.

Archer moved closer, the tension in his frame slowly unwinding. “You’re safe,” he murmured. “I’ve warded the entire estate.” He gestured to the bed, where faint shadows curled protectively along the edges, almost alive.

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