Page 106 of Burning Heir

Heat crept up my neck, unwelcome and betraying. Before I could respond, Archer stepped forward and touched my shoulder, steering me toward the house. “Come inside,” he said.

“Did you gain your shadow at the Harvest?” I asked, glancing up at him.

He nodded. “Yes. I was seventeen. The look on my father’s face when his eldest son inherited his mother’s Night blood—I’ll never forget it. He never forgave me for it.” Archer’s voice carried a bitterness that deepened the shadows clinging to him. “I hope Kian’s quell is warmer. For his sake. Though, surprisingly, you can’t beat a quell out of someone.”

“Your father… hurt you?”

Archer’s jaw tightened. “My mother died a year before. I was a painful reminder of her, a failure in his eyes—the son who should’ve claimed his throne but instead inherited the wrong blood.”

Rage flared in my chest. “You didn’t deserve that.”

A shadow of a smile played on his lips. “Now, don’t go soft on me, Severyn. Remember, you’re not supposed to care about me.”

I changed the subject, though my anger lingered. “I wonder why Winters don’t gain their quells until the academy.”

Archer leaned against the dining table, his fingers digging into the wood as if bracing himself. “Klaus never wrote when he lived with you? That man spent nearly every waking minute with a notebook in his hands.”

Thinking back to our family home two years ago felt like recalling another lifetime. “He read. Cully was more of the writer in our family.”

Archer’s knuckles whitened as he gripped the edge of the table. “I knew you were coming to the academy. Klaus knew he would die. And I knew you’d be placed in some bullshit realm, forced to bond with a creature that didn’t call to you because Naraic was dead.”

“Klaus told you about me,” I said, more statement than question. The realization settled over me like a heavy cloak. During Skyfall, Klaus had demanded that Naraic break their bond. Now, the pieces clicked into place.

Archer’s voice dipped lower. “I had to keep my mouth shut. But Damien heard my thoughts, and he got to you first. I knew you’d go into that forest, so I followed you. But every time I saw you, I felt guilty. Guilty because I thought I’d stolen your chance to bond, to breathe. So I stayed away.”

His hand rose, daring to graze my cheek. The touch was fleeting but enough to make my breath hitch. “But fuck, you made it difficult. Twice, I had to drag you away. And it took everything in me not to tell you what I knew.” He exhaled sharply. “Ciaran kept telling you to find him, and I forbade her from nearing you.”

I pulled back, shaking my head. “Why are you telling me this now?”

His gaze burned into mine. “I never knew how they figured Klaus had a forbidden quell. Not until yesterday. Then, it all made sense. When I heard you scream last night—” He stepped closer, the space between us disappearing. “They tortured you in the Winter realm, and I did nothing to stop it.”

My throat tightened. “There was nothing you could have done.”

“I couldn’t hold Ciaran back, but I had no right to intervene. She’d broken my command and saved you herself, as she did during Skyfall. I know he hurt you, Severyn. I know being rejected from your home is the worst feeling.”

“Bridger wanted to prove I wasn’t Winter-bound.” The words tasted bitter. “I know it wasn’t your doing, but it still hurts to know Ciaran was ordered not to help me.” I hesitated, tracing the gem stitched into my gown’s lace trim. “Did you know I’d be drawn to Summer?”

He shook his head. “No. I had no idea you’d be called to Summer or end up in the running for my father’s title. But I knew you wouldn’t make it far.”

“You never suspected?”

“Scavengers raised your mother. She could have distant blood from anywhere.”

I shuddered, my fingers trembling against the lace. “The Serpent’s life is cruel.”

Archer’s grin was crooked, darkly amused. “Not as cruel as the woman you’re bonded to killing the closest thing to an heir you’ll have.”

“There’s always Antonia,” I shot back, though my voice wavered. “She seems to have her eye on you, Serpent.”

Archer’s laugh was sharp, cutting. “Antonia is not Serpent quality. To claim a realm, you must be conniving and willing tolay down your life. My father rebuilt Ravensla through barters and bribes, not sentiment.”

I swallowed hard, leaning against the wall for support. “And would you lay your life down for your realm?”

Archer studied me for a long moment, his eyes unreadable. “I would,” he said at last. “But it would be foolish without an heir. I’m not eager to drag my future children into this cycle. Better someone else take it than repeat this madness.”

I managed a weak laugh. “Who would want to live in constant darkness? No offense.”

“Only those who see beauty in shadows will understand,” Archer replied, his voice low. “Light is a mask.”

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