Page 132 of Severed Heir

“Aways up?” Archer growled.

Damien’s face tightened. “I said I lost her voice.”

Archer gripped me tighter. “Then I’m taking Severyn to my healers.”

“And how exactly do you plan ongettingthere?” Damien snapped. “On foot?”

I touched Archer’s shoulder, my fingers barely able to curl. “Stop,” I whispered. “Stop fighting.”

Archer didn’t look away. “Admit it. You have no idea what you’re doing.”

Damien’s expression darkened. “You won’t make it to Demetria. Try to carry her across that border, and you’ll both be dead before sunset.”

“Then I’ll take my chances in Malvoria,” Archer said. “She needs helpnow.”

I clung to him as the world tilted and spun.

“The healers managed to stop the venom from spreading to her heart,” came Rok’s voice. “You are lucky, nightmare venom can ruin the mind of a person indefinitely.”

I stirred against the scratchy cot, pretending to be asleep still. Gods. I was back in this hellhole.

“We were searching for your mother,” Archer said. “You must know her whereabouts.”

And of course, my eldest brother was here, because the universe clearly had a sense of humor, and I knew the moment I got up, I wouldn’t hear the end of it.

Charles scoffed. “Searching for Fallon?” His voice dripped with disdain. “I knew you were planning treason the moment you hid that lindworm. Must I remind you she’s aligned with the Forgotten? The ones causing war on our Continent?”

“Just tell him,” Damien muttered. “He’ll find out soon enough.”

“Damien,” Archer warned. “It isn’t ours to tell.”

“If you’re withholding information about the Forgotten,” Charles cut in coldly, “the Malvoria army has every right to know, and we will find out. One way or another.”

The sharp hiss of steel cut through the air. Somewhere nearby, blades had been drawn. Men were fighting.

I forced myself upright with a groan as I saw the glint of a sword pressed to Archer’s throat. “Charles,” I said, voice tight. “Release him.”

He didn’t move. The blade remained against Archer’s skin.

“Now!” I barked. “Archer has done nothing wrong.”

Charles lowered the sword only just slightly. “He may be a Serpent,” he said, “but he’s not above Continent law. And frankly, I’m tired of Archer Lynch.”

“I’m not Father’s daughter,” I snapped. “And I was trying to find our mother to learn who is.”

A blade clattered to the floor, but it wasn’t Charles’s. Myla stepped forward, hands raised. “Apologies for the disturbance.”

Charles turned to her with a scowl. “Reinhart, pull yourself together or leave.”

“Don’t speak to her like that,” I said.

Myla drew in a slow breath. “It’s fine,” she said quietly. “I should’ve controlled it better.”

But there was something in her face that stopped me. Maybe it came from the hours I’d spent beside her mother.

“What did you mean?” she asked softly. “You’re not your father’s daughter?”

“My mother had an affair,” I said. “I’m not Winter-blooded.”

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