Page 151 of Burning Heir

“He’s dead, Archer. It’s all my fault.”

Archer’s shoulder tensed. “No.” He turned away. “It is not your fault.”

“I’m sorry,” I cried. “The pain of loss—”

He cut me off. “I know how it feels, Severyn. He is dead. People die.”

I was okay with the world believing I was dead for a while, perhaps forever.

“Is Naraic here?” I asked.

Archer nodded. “He tried to stop you. His wings got sliced. He may never fly the same again.” His voice choked.

“Why did our bond go cold? Even Ciaran couldn’t hear you.”

Archer pressed a thumb to his temple. “It was the shield, Severyn. Our bond never went cold. You just… couldn’t hear me.” He went toward me. “We need to clean your injuries. The lindworm bit you, and I’ve been pulling glass shards from you for the last day.”

He reached for me, but I recoiled. "Archer, no—the shield."

“The shield died three days ago.”

A shudder tore through me, a cry too soft to be heard. "Damien placed the shield—"

Archer nodded, the weight of his gaze steady. “Quells can manifest, grow stronger. Damien's ability was rare—he could shield minds, twist them to his will. He made you believe.”

Naraic knew. And once again, I was left with the shattered fragments of myself, scattered along a path I no longer recognized. If I could call it greatness…

But I didn’t feel great.

I wasn’t worthy.

Archer’s arms wrapped around me, gentle, almost reverent. I leaned into him as he carried me down the hall, his warmth grounding me as we entered a bathing room.

An aide had already drawn a steaming bath. Archer shrugged the blanket from my shoulders and eased me into the tub, my spine to him.

“Did you… take care of me?” I whispered.

“Always,” he murmured. “I thought I was protecting you. Keeping distance was the only way I knew to keep you safe.” His voice dropped, softer now. “How is your heart?"

I turned my face toward him, though the weight of his gaze stilled me. “How did you react when Klaus died?”

Silence stretched, his hand gentle as he ran a cloth over the mark on my spine, tracing beneath my ribs. “I despised the world.”

I sobbed into the warmth of the water, a sharp pain radiating from the scar.

I didn’t want to say his name. “Damien was my friend, Archer. I cared about him.”

His voice cracked. “I wish… I wish I knew the version of him you did.”

Why did you have to die?

No answer came.

His fingers brushed my cheek, lingering on the faded scar where Estella’s stitch had once been. “Most things that survive without light are the strongest. And the shadows of my realm will devour every last fold that clings to you. “He paused. “I am truly sorry you are my heir, Severyn.”

I stared at the rising steam, my thoughts far too scattered. "I need to understand this."

I spent the next week healing, and every night, Archer carried me to the tub and gently washed my injuries. By the eighth night, I was able to walk there myself, and Archer joined me, kneeling beside the tub with his hands resting under his chin.

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