Page 28 of Burning Heir

Bridger said to me, cold and bored, “Lesson one of combat, Blanche, never take your eyes off your opponent.” His boot shifted, and the sound of bones crunched in my wrist as Bridger stomped hard.

I gasped in pain. Sheer pain I’d never felt before.

The groans spewed in a stream of curses laced in my breath. My palm lay flat, flushed red, swelling as I gazed up. Cruel didn’t do his features justice.

“You broke my wrist,” I hissed, forcing back tears. I wouldn’t cry, not in front of the entire academy.

But pain gripped me—had me nearly crouched to my knees as I hurled forward. Pain. Had I ever felt pain like this? I stared at his severed fingers.

I was the daughter of the man he hated. The man he was forced to worship when his pain was silenced.

Knox ran to me, grabbing my elbow carefully. “You’re okay, Sev. We’ll take you to the healer.” Then, his eyes shot toward Bridger in a lash of blind rage. I swore he lit up like lightning struck his core. “What the hell, man? It’s her first day of combat.”

Bridger raised his hands. “If she wants to be my ruler, she must earn that right.”

“Well, let me teach you a fucking lesson on hierarchy.” Knox barreled forward, punching him in the jaw, nose, and lips until blood splattered from Bridger’s cut, swollen face. “If you touch her again, I will force you into a permanent bow.” And it took all but one Serpent, a professor, and two other males to pull Knox off Bridger’s body.

He wasn’t dead, but I was sure Knox would have killed him if he hadn’t been stopped. We bled the same shade. He and I were not so different. Knox jerked as Monty and Damien held him back.

I might have blacked out while leaning on Malachi’s arm as she brought me to the infirmary. My wrist dangled, limp at my side. The pain radiated through me—a raw, searing agony that demanded restraint to keep from screaming.

She laid me down on one of the twelve beds in the wing. Blazing lanterns hung overhead, their flickering light casting uneven shadows. Citrine and rust lingered in the air. Cracked white walls closed in around me as Malachi sat at the foot of the bed.

“Now, do you trust me?” she asked.

“Trust you?” I repeated, my cheek pressed against the rough cotton sheet, my free hand raised slightly in question.

“I heard you talking to Damien Lynch about me last night.”

Her words rang in my ears, muddled by the relentless pounding of my thoughts. How had she overheard that conversation? The pain was too unbearable to dwell on it. “I was curious who you were. I should have asked you.”

She signaled for an aide. “Damien’s hot. Go for it, but he’s got issues. I’ve known the brothers since I was young. We met at Serpent gatherings.”

Through clenched teeth, I said, “We were just talking, Malachi.” I cursed under my breath, biting back the waves of agony. “My wrist is broken, isn’t it?”

“Yes. Someone like Bridger has never tasted freedom and won’t stop until he gets it,” she said. “Don’t let him win.”

The aide, a short woman with a curvy frame, approached briskly. “Oh dear, the first broken bone of the semester,” she hummed. “My name is Estella, and you are?” She smiled warmly, a few gray strands peeking above her ears.

“Severyn Blanche,” I muttered. The sound of my last name seemed to stretch her smile into wide-eyed recognition. Clawing panic churned in my gut as she lifted my arm and gave it a squeeze. My legs curled toward my chest instinctively, tight and protective.

Malachi rambled on, her tone as casual as if we were discussing the weather. “Monty will kill me when I let my guard down. My best chance is seducing him, so he feels just a little guilt before slicing my throat. Trust me, Severyn, everyone wants to kill me. Some just to say they did.” She fisted the white linen sheets.

I nodded faintly, my focus split between her words and the sharp throbs of pain. “He’s not that impressive.”

“How many Blanche children are in that family of yours?” Estella asked. “Charles was lovely, such a handsome young man.”

She lifted my arm again, and I screamed. “There’s five of us,” I managed to choke out.

“Broken,” she confirmed, sighing softly. “There isn’t much I can do besides wrap it, dear. I’ll give you some pain medication to reduce the swelling, but it’ll be at least a week before the healer arrives. Do you think you can manage until then?”

“I can try,” I whispered.

“Severyn, speaking of Monty, I told him I’d meet him after combat,” Malachi said abruptly. “I feel like such an asshole leaving you, but Estella is wonderful, and she will poison Bridger if he tries to hurt you tonight.” She placed a hand on Estella’s shoulder with a grin. “Isn’t that right?”

Estella rolled her eyes. “I’m waiting for the poisons to arrive.”

“I’ll see you back in the room,” I said, giving Malachi a quick smile as she left. The heavy doors slammed closed. A window facing the dragon grounds rippled as her taps echoed through the hall.

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