Page 150 of Severed Heir

“A minor setback to your greatness.”

I turned on the last step, fire building in my lungs. “You may carry my father’s title, Bridger, but I will never respect you.”

I didn’t wait for a response. I stormed down the corridor, steps echoing against the stone. Behind me, his boots followed, unrelenting.

“I didn’t know how bad the food shortage was,” he called. “I never would’ve—”

I whirled around, the rage breaking loose.

“Never would’ve what?” I hissed. “I was the one traded into marriage to save the land. I was the one left bleeding and half-frozen after you ordered Callum to strike. You didn’t make me stronger. You broke me. And now you want to rewrite it all like you were some noble in the making?”

The color drained from his face.

“For my father’s sake, I won’t start a feud,” I said, voice cold. “But don’t mistake that for forgiveness. I am not your friend, Bridger. And I will never be your ally.”

He didn’t follow me, he just stood there. “I could still call in my bid,” he said. “You’re owed to me for the night.”

“My last hope was yours,” I snapped. “I don’t wish for your downfall, but if you speak to me like that again, I’ll rain flame and ash on your village.”

He scoffed. “You turn that quickly, huh?”

“I have a duel to win. Unless you’d rather explain why you were in that room with me.”

I didn’t wait for his response. I bolted into the courtyard, my heart pounding hard against my ribs. The night air was thick with smoke and laughter, the scent of herbs curling through the breeze. A dozen Serpents lounged near the dueling arena, their stances loose and careless, glassy eyes betraying the liquor and powder laced through their veins.

Beyond them, a cluster of barren civilians huddled near the wall, wide-eyed and trembling. Some of their faces Irecognized—auctioned off like trinkets in that cursed bidding room.

That was all it took.

Rage surged beneath my skin, molten and merciless. My body burned with it, seething from the inside out.

Caius stood beneath the marble columns, already drawing a chorus of cheers, his arms spread as if he were owed the adoration. My steps faltered when I caught sight of Hadrian beside Archer, speaking too calmly for a scene like this. I could only assume he was still stalling.

Caius waved me forward with a smirk. “Come, Severyn. Let’s see how strong your flame really is.”

He raised both hands, summoning a twisting ribbon of sparks that cracked through the air and drew cheers from the crowd.

Fucking conceited asshole.

I stepped into the center, shoulders squared, while Caius gave an exaggerated bow. “No strikes to the face,” he said smoothly. “And stay off the grass. It’s fresh. If you insist on bleeding, do try to keep it off the furniture, most of it is white.”

“I want to add to my barter,” I said, ignoring his theatrics.

His smile faltered. “You’re in no position to make demands.”

I smiled slowly, lowering my voice. “Then I’ll confess right now and save us both the trouble of a duel.”

His patience seemed to thin. Smoke began to rise from his hands, a warning more than a threat, but the tension in his jaw said he was close to losing control. “Fine,” he said at last, voice clipped. “What do you want?”

“You need to release the barren civilians.”

He scoffed, the sound sharp and bitter, as though I’d asked for the sun. “Then here’s mine, stay away from my family. Stay out of Serpent gatherings. And never speak my father’s name again.”

I crossed my arms, keeping my expression even. “You can’t banish me.”

Caius didn’t blink. “This is Wrathi. I could make sure no realm ever bargains with yours again.” His tone was smooth, practiced, but beneath it I heard the threat coiled tight, ready to strike.

Heat curled at my fingertips, refusing to fade. “Deal.”

---