Page 39 of Burning Heir

“Who are you?” I asked Callum as the frozen ground tracked my steps.

“You speak when I say,” he spat. “And to answer your question, I’m the one you’ll bow to if you make it out alive.”

Teeth clenched to stop the chattering, I hissed, “Time’s ticking. Don’t the odds lessen once you’re in the third year?”

“Shut the hell up and find your enigma,” he barked.

There were no eggs nearby, no mature griffins waiting for me to spot them. I expected to find a single feather laid for me to stumble upon and for a bond to anchor itself into my bones.

I knew in my marrow that I didn’t belong here. The cold could wash over me—consume me in its frosted cloak—but I would never call back and take it as mine. Perhaps I broke, knowing my father’s legacy would die without a fight. But to hell with these assholes. I was never good at listening. My family could attest to that.

Defeat hung in my slouched shoulders as Bridger and Callum watched me like a lost dog. My breath caught on a gust of lashing wind. I would never be what I was expected to become. Never the perfect Serpent daughter who married power and surrendered her name. I couldn’t even bond with a damn griffin.

“I don’t think my enigma is here.” I faced Bridger, and his hands slid into his pockets.

“I know. Your mentor doesn’t seem to like that answer. Perhaps that’s why his dragon swooped in to save you.” Bridger’s blue eyes flickered to mine, colder than the ice crusted to my brow. “Or perhaps… it was guilt that saved you. Your dead brother is the only reason you’re not in Malvoria.”

“I’d rather be in Malvoria,” I cried, breaking under the weight of his words. The pieces Malachi spoke of were shattered, and I had no strength to gather them.

Liquid pain stained my cheeks. I felt broken-legged—a hand dragging me to the finish line. Laps and laps as people passed me—gaining their quells, their creatures, winning daggers and swords.

I was supposed to be a legacy here.

“I’m not sure Malvoria would take you in your state. You’re weak and without a quell. You should have stayed home, gotten married, and done your job as a wife. This isn’t the world for you.” Bridger opened his palm, releasing a flurry of snow. “You can stay here for the night… the wards will open for you at dawn.”

“You’re leaving me alone here?” I ran toward him, grabbing his elbow.

He shoved me back. “I need to impress your mentor, and it seems you bonding with your enigma is the only way. He will understand.” Bridger waved his hand and was already on top of the cliff, staring down. I didn’t know where Callum went.

I stumbled toward the ice wall and slammed my fist. “You can’t leave me stranded here!”

No voice called back—not even the voice in my strayed mind.

Lacing my hands over my arms for any warmth, I kept on. This was cruel. It wasbeyondevil to leave me out here to freeze.I gazed along the flurried bend of the trail where I knew cabins were—knew where warmth brewed.

I uncurled and curled my stiff fingers every third breath to keep the blood flow constant. I mustered every ounce of strength to run toward the smudge of green log cabins visible through the flurries. Twisting the handle of the closest one, I collapsed on the floor with my head between my legs.

“Destroy the old version of yourself. Shed your skin, Severyn. You must kill off whoever you were before.”It was that voice again, softer.

“I don’t know how!” I screamed.

Silence slicked the frozen walls.

“Find him. You are the only one who can save him.”

“Find who?”

“I cannot speak his name. He has been waiting for you to find his remains.”

Familiar howls sounded from the outskirts of the trails. Bridger’s wolves… he’d sent them to watch me. “The moment I enter those forests, I’ll be hunted by the beasts.”

“You are not like him. You are not courageous. He chose wrong.”The voice ripped abruptly from my mind, leaving me with a splitting headache that took all but an hour to shake.

I curled into a ball under a pile of woven blankets, the scent of dust and moth balls drawing through my breaths. I’d never seen outside the Northern barriers and was told to strip whatever essence I had to survive. To detach myself from all I knew before I could exist. The academy wouldn’t break me—it would tear me into flesh and bone like Bridger’s pack of wolves would once they clawed the door down.

This world was harsh, but the title was earned, not given. I could choke on my breath a thousand times, but it would not mean my lungs were stronger. And a broken bone was only weaker, more brittle, once it healed.

I grabbed the handle.

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