Page 137 of Severed Heir

“Then show me.”

I opened my mouth to answer, but the knock came again, louder this time. Charles’s voice rang out. “Severyn, we need to talk.”

I crossed my arms. “He’s waiting.”

“We’re not done,” Archer growled. Then, he grabbed my wrist, tugging me flush against him. His mouth brushed my ear. “You enjoy this. You love seeing me risk everything for you.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“Do I have permission?”

“Yes.” I wasn’t entirely sure what I was agreeing to, but the wild gleam in his eyes didn’t feel dangerous.

Then his hand slipped beneath the hem of my gown, gliding up my thigh until his fingers brushed the heat between my legs.

“You’re dripping wet at the thought of me wanting you,” he murmured.

His finger slipped through my wet folds, and I held back my moan, smothering my mouth against his neck. Then I felt the unmistakable hardness pressing against my stomach.

“I could say the same about you,” I said.

His jaw tightened. “The only reason you’re not bent over that cot right now is because I have enough respect not to fuck you in a room where everyone in this damn institute could hear you moan.”

My breath caught as he pulled his hand out. “So Iamjust a desire to you.”

“No,” he said, his hand curling around the back of my neck. “A desire is something I want. You’re something I have.”

Then his mouth was on mine, all tongue and tangled heat. I reached for his belt, but he caught my wrists and pinned them above us in one swift motion.

Another knock shook the door before Archer broke the kiss, his chest rising and falling hard.

“Come in,” I called, trying to hide the shake in my voice as Archer set me gently back on the floor.

Charles stepped inside. “Severyn, we need to talk.”

Archer didn’t move. “Then talk.”

Charles gave a stiff nod. “We searched the records from the old Serpent gatherings. Your mother met privately with one Serpent eighteen times. The records only identify him as ‘F.’”

“F?” I echoed, brows furrowing. “Who could that be?” Gods, I couldn’t think of a single Serpent whose name started with that letter.

Charles shrugged. “The journalist used ‘I’ to refer to Andri. But ‘F’—it only appears in connection to her private meetings.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” I said. “Why use letters at all?”

“It’s shorthand,” Charles replied. “For fast note-taking.”

Archer spoke then, voice low. “It’s not an initial.”

I turned to him. “Then what?”

“F for flame,” he murmured. “Her father wields flame. Summer-blooded. Andri is ‘I’ for ice.”

“Could be,” Charles said. “Attend the next Summer gathering. Eight Summer Serpents wield flame. These meetings… they don’t read like formal visits.”

My breath caught. “What do you mean?”

Charles hesitated. “We don’t know her state of mind. But the timing lines up. We’re also cross-referencing prison records and checking for Seekers who were captured around that time.”

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