Page 73 of Burning Heir

“I’d hardly call that a mess,” Archer replied, throwing two daggers next to my knees—one with a handle dipped in ash, the other silver. “Severyn has earned quell rights during combat.”

“Only second and third-years can use quells during combat. You saw her… she is… unstable with her power, brother.” Damien’s lip curled slightly. “You’ll kill her if she can’t control it!”

A gust of wind blew the ash away as Malachi lowered her arms, surveying me and my trembling body.

Archer squared his shoulders. “Fire quells require release, brother. Severyn’s skills are above the average flame wielder for a first-year. Would you not agree?”

“I agree there’s a reason first-years are barred from quell use in combat,” Damien replied.

I had earned two daggers, but at what cost? Damien didn’t believe I could handle it. Even Knox hesitated to step closer. The only comfort was his familiar golden eyes, staring at me from across the field, reading me up and down with his invasive quell.

I knew it was terror rippling from every pore in my body as Knox broke his hardened stance and cleared the distance between us. “Are you alright?” Knox asked.

“I’m fine,” I said with another lie. Perhaps he sensed my fear. Maybe I would never be able to lie to Knox again.

It wasn’t until I felt his arms lift me that I truly shattered. But the tears never came. They stayed locked behind dry eyes, replaced by a sudden, unnatural grin tugging at my lips. Knox was forcing me to be happy, shielding me from the humiliation of crying in front of my peers.

“Let’s eat dinner together,” Knox rasped. “They’re serving cabbage soup tonight—do you remember how Mother used to make it after our first harvest?”

I nodded, following him across the courtyard.

The first harvest back in Northern Colindale was always a celebration. The sun blazed, brighter and warmer than it would be for the rest of the year. Fields sprawled with lush vegetation and ripe produce. I’d carry a basket through the orchard, pluckinghellebore petals along the way. Mother would begin her canning rituals, and the entire valley worked tirelessly, sowing the next season’s seeds before frost claimed the soil.

The train tracks always signaled the frost’s arrival—the steel groaning as cracks splintered along its surface, screws glistening with a thin veil of ice. Life had felt simpler then, I thought, staring at my raw, blistered hands.

My ears rang as Knox gripped my shoulders. He deserved to know the truth. I could trust him. “You never liked Mother’s soup,” I teased, still giddy from whatever quell he’d inflicted on me.

“Better than whatever roadkill Father and Charles would bring home. I will never forget when we fried squirrel tails that one frost.” Knox shuddered at the thought.

“Nothing quite like Colindale food,” I said as we entered the large dining hall across from the library. Six rows of fifty-foot wooden tables were centered with green velvet benches. Savory spices wafted through the air. A serpent sculpture hung from the ceiling—lights flickered from the scaled body. Dozens of students sat, eating soup and sourdough bread. Knox went to the large pot and carried two bowls in his hands.

“What will we tell Father when he comes for the Serpent Bid? None of us are in the ranks to take over for him,” I began. “It will ruin him.”

“Then let it. The academy placed us, knowing our history. The Blanches have reigned over the frozen valley in Colindale for a hundred years. Father must have known about Klaus.”

I had never thought the man who would crumble before us in a short few weeks had done it once before—twice, if I counted Charles.

I was tired of lies poisoning me. I had enough venom coursing already.

Words, truth, sat on the edge of my tongue. I had to tell him about Everett. How that dragon had not only been Klaus’, but he’d given me Klaus’ quell.

I slowly stirred the soup, and chunks of ripe beets sank. “Knox, there’s something I need to tell you.”

“If it’s about Damien, I already know. He asked me about you when I first bonded with Relic. I let him have my words, told him he’d be my second kill if he hurt you.”

“It’s not about Damien. It’s about Klaus.” Shuddering, I raised a hand. “You killed someone?”

Knox leaned back on the velvet bench with a raised brow. “Day’s initiation. Anyway, what about Klaus?”

“My dragon’s real name is Naraic. He was Klaus’s dragon.”

Knox pulled his brows together. “That can’t be. Everett told me Naraic died along with Klaus.”

“I brought him back to life, Knox. I saved him. Naraic gave me Klaus’ fire antecedent quell.” I swallowed hard, hoping I could do the same with my words. “I saved Everett that day. He was dead, Knox.”

Those golden eyes showed a whirl of emotions as an unfamiliar gaze held me. “Everett told me you were the first thing he saw when he woke up. He made it seem like you saved him. I couldn’t understand…”

“I couldn’t let his death destroy you, not after Klaus. I should have told you, but this quell I have is forbidden. If anyone finds out, it will be stripped away, or I will die.”

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