Page 136 of Burning Heir

His mouth was on my ear again. “You’re mine for the night.”

I was in his arms. He forced my hands on his shoulders as we swayed. My mind was tethered to his control as I leaned against him, and even that false smile tasted like tears. I ground my teeth. “Why are you doing this?”

He held my chin to meet his pale gaze. “I’m not as cruel as you suspect me to be, Severyn.” He spun me around, and I saw a flash of Archer’s rage from across the room—helpless. He stood there helpless. “I want to be king, and you Herrings stand in my way. Now that you’re mine for the night, I can’t wait to drag whatever forbidden quell ripples through you. Klaus was quite the writer. Do you write, Severyn?”

I kept my jaw clenched to avoid trembling. A claim was greater than a bid. Archer had lied that night in Ravensla—I wasn’t priceless. I was the heat of salvation and a secret worth a lifetime of lies. I was Monty’s claim, his pet for the night.

“I’m not a Seeker,” I hissed. “And if I was, I’d write your death. I’d write it a hundred times over.”

The king cleared his throat. “What is your claim, Monty?”

Monty grinned at the crowd, keeping me close to his hip. “I claim that Severyn will take the title this year, and if my bid is correct, I want every Serpent in the run to claim the king’s title to step down.”

Monty didn’t plan to kill me—not yet.

His words tinged my ears, hanging before I realized what his claim entailed. I kept my feet grounded, holding the flame pulsing at my fingertips. Monty craved power, a desire to be great—greater than his promised life. Knox caught my eye in the corner of the room beside the other Day students, appearing as taken back as the rest, as if he’d been hopeful that claim would bear his name.

A moment later, the king pounded his cane into the stone as if the room’s silence was too still. “Shall we let the bidding begin? What do you offer, Monty, at such a steep claim? Unless Saani wishes to bid, only she can counter you,” he asked, a voice full of curiosity.

Saani kept silent. That whip of flame was gone, hidden beneath her red cloak stark against the starlit lanterns.

Monty cocked his neck. “I did not mention whose title she would take, Your Majesty.” Monty gripped me harder.

“Severyn is a Summer, and the only Serpent title she can claim is Victor’s. I presume you mean his title, Garcia.” The king’s grin nearly faltered, quivering at the side.

Archer pushed through the crowd, and all those moments of denial shuddered. “Severyn is up against my title. She can wield darkness. To steal light is a Night quell, and to consume light falls under the shadow powers. I have a right to claim on her.”

My mind raced back and forth as the soft muttering began amongst the Serpents. My tongue froze, clenching my fingers onthe ribs in my gown. I could only stare at Archer as the king waited for an explanation.

“Ciaran was born in Demetria, and she gave her a shadow quell the day of Skyfall. Severyn had the mark of Unknown on her first day. Severyn is a split—drawn to both shadows and flame. Severyn will become my heir, and I claim it. I claim her!”

It was me who shadowed Knox during that trial.

Monty loosened his grip. “There is no such thing. We are only called to one realm.”

Victor’s attention drifted to my palms. “Show us your shadow mark.”

I didn’t know how. Not with a hundred eyes staring at me. Not with the heat of Summer bearing into me and the coolness of the Frozen Valley Serpents breathing up my spine. I held my palm out, waiting for something, but my body was too warm to drown out the hum in my boiled veins. Even the lanterns didn’t do so much as flicker.

Victor laughed under his breath. “I think we’ve seen enough of her outburst tonight. Monty has claimed Severyn unless he wishes to back out before he bids his stakes.”

Archer was loud, and I thought the entire room rumbled as he stalked toward his father. “My stakes are that you drop your barter with Andri Blanche if Severyn wins, and in return, I shall give you back your piece of Summer. You have my word, Father.”

The sole reason his mother was dead, what she fought for—he’d give up for me. There was nothing Victor would want more than his sunlight back. I swallowed my spit, bracing for this to be over. For another student to be where I stood.

Victor clicked his tongue, glancing at the shallow and lifeless figure that was my father. “You wish to barter, son?”

Archer nodded. “It’s what you’ve always wanted.”

“Fine,” Victor said. “You have a deal.”

I didn’t sigh in relief. I didn’t think of Damien and those empty promises that our fighting for the same title would never sever our friendship because we’d never shatter, never if I wasn’t the heir to Ravensla.

The king seemed to enjoy this as if every year before was a mindless bid with no real stakes. As if a broken promise meant a greater lie had yet to unfold. He rubbed his bony fingers together, dismissing us. I kept beside Archer as the bid continued, and as expected, no other claims were made. But I’d caught the attention of every Serpent in the room as they approached me from a distance one by one.

Lasar made a bid on Bridger. Then, four more Serpents said his name. He was once again titled the leader as a metal brooch shaped like a snowflake was pinned to his chest. Damien beat that by five. Knox had also made an impression, but standing nearly seven feet tall with three swords would do that. Knox was pushed first in line to claim the Day Throne, and when Everett unpinned his circular relic and handed it to Knox, something between them changed as their hands grazed.

Most Serpents offered gold; some threw in the lure of rare jewels. Nothing quite matched Archer’s loss—nothing that would tear the sun away from a land.

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