Page 44 of Burning Heir

Her brows scrunched together. “Not as hopeless as rivals to lovers.”

She meant Bridger. I gazed at the clouds and hoped they’d stay as rivals. “Bridger is not worth hopelessness.”

Her face turned a deep shade of red. “He doesn’t see me as anything other than a first-year.”

“Bridger… wants to kill me,” I said. “He—”

She cut me off. “It’s not personal, Severyn.”

Rage simmered low in my gut, but Damien interrupted us, twirling a dagger before I could respond. “Mind if I steal Severyn for a bit?”

Myla shrugged once she saw my slight nod. “As long as you return her in one piece, or I’ll have my griffin peck your eyes out.”

He winked at Myla. “You’ll have her in whatever shape I see fit once she knows how to fight.”

Daisies lined the rolling green fields, and rain puddles splashed against my ankles as we walked.

Damien led me to the dragon fields and introduced me to Emerich, his spiked-horntail. Without Cully’s stories, I’d know nothing about dragons or their breeds. Emerich’s neck was long, nearly twice the length of Archer’s dragon, and his scales shimmered like glass algae—sea greens and blues reflecting the light across his broad body. Over fifteen feet tall, his horned tail jutted with spikes that lined his curved spine, slashing side to side.

“He’s quite the comedian,” Damien said as we approached.

“What’s he saying?” I asked nervously, avoiding those slivered eyes watching me.

“He says your enigma is dead. But that would mean you’d have to bond with one for that to be true. Emerich thinks he’s a know-it-all because he survived three wars.”

I shuddered, believing he was right. The borders to Winter were still down. Keeping silent put Myla and dozens of Winter students at risk. But what Callum had done to me burned inside my mind, and I wasn’t ready to speak of it.

“What else is Emerich saying?”

Damien listened for a few silent beats as Emerich hummed a low vibration deep in his throat. “He says you were chosen correctly and that you should be patient. He also thinks I should hold your hand.”

Emerich made a noise that sounded like a chortle—as if the dragon found humor in Damien’s feeble attempt at flirting. “I thought we were going to spar.”

Damien leaned closer, sweeping a finger along my palm. “And… I hardly know you.”

I’d gotten my firsts over with when I turned eighteen. Most males feared Father, more so Charles. Sometimes, I regretted not waiting. If Myla could salvage lust in cruelty’s eyes, what did I have to lose?

A Summer and Winter seemed as appalling as dating a rival.

His eyes scanned the field as he softly cleared his throat. “It’s only chivalrous if I hold your hand before I have a dagger against your throat.” And in a quick maneuver, Damien pressed a blade against my spine.

I breathed three shallow breaths of crisp spring air before twisting from his grasp—face to face with his hazel eyes locked on my unmoved expression.

“Don’t let me win,” I said, unsheathing the dagger he’d given me. Our blades clanged. He was quick on his feet, dodging my every swing and landing a few blows on my shoulders.

He leaned in closer. “Not a chance.”

Winded, I asked, “Are you from a title?”

“My father’s a Summer Serpent. He’s a cruel man.”

“Aren’t all Serpents? What did Malachi mean when she mentioned boarding school?” He wrapped an arm around my backside, and something about a male’s touch sent spasms down my spine since Callum.

“How about whatever idea you’ve made about my life stays that way? I’m not the kind of man who’ll tell you his entire life within a day.”

I grinned. “So you’re allowed to ask me personal questions and hold my hand, but I can’t know more about you?” I desperately wanted to know more about Damien. Even now, after he claimed two Serpents ran in his bloodline.

He twirled the blade in the air, humor touching his eyes as he said, “Disarm me, and I’ll tell you a secret.”

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