Page 126 of Burning Heir

He sighed, his voice tinged with resignation. “You’re a terrible liar, Severyn Blanche. I see how you look at my brother. The worst part is… I can read your mind, but he seems to understand you more than I ever will.”

Flexing my fingers, I shifted the topic, unwilling to lead Damien on anymore. There was nothing salvageable between us—not after those stolen moments within the glass, not after he’d willed death and life from my forbidden veins.

“I wonder how Myla is doing?” I said quickly.

“Charles probably enjoys having another Winter quell there. It’s nice to be around quells like your own.” His gaze lingered on the shadow relic etched into my palm.

I didn’t bring it up. I didn’t have the energy to explain, nor did I want to hear Damien’s sharp remarks about how harboring too many quells could surge me. I was a walking disaster, waiting to be stripped of everything once the bid came.

“I swear, if Bridger takes my father’s title…” I curled my fingers into the dried grass, the heat of my frustration sparking at my fingertips.

“Your father needs an heir, Severyn,” Damien said softly. “He’s not quite as lucky to have two rivals like us.”

And I wondered if things between us would have been different if I were called to Winter in another life.

But I couldn’t live beneath someone, and I’d seen Damien’s fantasy about him being the Serpent.

Archer. He still hadn’t returned to the academy. And the ache in my gut was enough for me to need a bed.

“Where are you?”

I felt no ebony shadows running down our unsealed bond. No response as night soaked the sky.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

“Meet me at the combat fields.”It was the day before the bid when Archer called back.

Damien and I approached the combat grounds, where Monty and Archer stood across the field. Their expressions were serious. Devoid of humor. Archer’s eyes refused to meet mine, and I burned with questions I couldn’t voice. Why had our rider bond gone cold for days? Why had he left me to navigate the trial alone while he half-heartedly shadowed me?

I stopped in my tracks as the other four Serpents approached. Saani emerged within flames, Tydon through the wind. Jenessa's steps frosted the ground beneath her, while vines sprung up in Levisly’s wake.

Damien steeled himself beside me. “Prepare yourself,” he muttered. “Nothing like the day before the bid.”

The six Serpents stood before us as the surviving students gathered. Winter’s numbers had dwindled to ten. Robi’s indexfinger was missing its tip—frostbite, I assumed. Chanvin refused to lift her gaze from the ground, even as Bridger loomed between them.

Had living in the Winter trails sucked the life from them?

Jenessa’s voice broke the silence. “Stand with your Serpent, students. We’re doing a round-up.”

I stumbled into place beside Archer, glancing at him from the corner of my eye. He didn’t acknowledge me, even as I pounded on the paper-thin walls of our bond, desperate for any response.

Malachi joined the ten Night students—a mix of second and third years. Only Antonia and Jace remained as first-years. Antonia’s short silver hair was pinned back, with four gleaming swords strapped to her. Jace looked rugged, his hair shaved into scorned lines. He stood protectively beside Antonia, as if he’d made the same vow to Alaric as Archer had to Klaus.

I wondered how ruthless Archer was, that only two first-years remained under his command. Perhaps impressing him was harder for most students. And yet here I was, sleeping in his bed and tasting the remnants of his shadows on my tongue. I gnawed on the thought of him, dreamt of his hands on my body in every stolen moment of silence—

Archer shifted, his shoulders tense beneath the black suit that hugged his frame. His breathing was uneven, and I wanted nothing more than to twine my fingers with his, to feel him again after a week of silence.

I was starved for him, quenching my longing with untamed shadows that barely sufficed.

Saani’s gaze lingered on me, unyielding, even as Damien stepped into place beside her. Knox had abandoned his exaggerated hobble, his supposed injury dismissed as a surface wound. Beside him, Everett stood shoulder-to-shoulder, their fingers brushing ever so slightly.

Saani cleared her throat. “There are students whose quells do not match their Serpent. Severyn Blanche, you will be placed under my mentorship. Everett Killian will move to Jenessa’s Winter realm, and Malachi Herring will be under Tydon’s watch.”

My stomach dropped. I glanced at Malachi. “Does this mean we have to move rooms?” I asked Saani softly.

Saani’s whip of fire scorched the grass. “Which room are you speaking of? You seem to switch beds often, including those of Serpents. I don’t think it will be an issue for you.”

Heat rushed to my cheeks. “Excuse me?”

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