Page 168 of Severed Heir

Malachi’s voice fractured. “Damien—he… he—” She broke. The girl who never broke shattered.

Kian stepped beside me, wrapping his arms around my shoulders. “I’m sorry you had to do that,” he whispered.

There was no name for the weight in my chest. It gnawed through me like rust. Death clung to my skin, not just grief, but the reversal of it.

The door burst open. “What the hell is all the screaming about?” Ellison demanded.

Callum didn’t miss a beat. “Aren’t you going to comfort your sister? She’s in tears.”

Ellison froze. “What? Severyn’s not my sister. My stepfather would never—” But his voice faltered. Just for a moment. He was thinking about it.

Callum’s grin sharpened. “They spent eighteen nights together. Serpent parties. True mates. Mentor and mentee. Fallon and Hadrian.” He tilted his head. “A classic tale of betrayal. Adulterous, tragic, and so very poetic.”

Ellison reached for his daggers, but it was the wrong move. Callum lunged, seized him by the collar, and slammed him into the nearest column.

Kian stepped between us, forcing me backward with more force than care. I stumbled, my spine bumping against the edge of the casket behind me. As I caught my balance, my hand slipped and brushed against something hard and cold. I had touched Klaus.

My gaze darted to Kian. His jaw had gone rigid, he’d seen it. Without speaking, he shook his head.

I folded my arms, heart hammering. I had touched Klaus. I thought my quell was gone. But it had brought Malachi back.

“Stand down!” Callum barked, slamming his fist into Ellison’s ribs. “That’s a week in solitary. No outreach. No quell. No sunlight.”

Ellison staggered, coughing. Blood flecked his lips. “She’s not my sister,” he rasped. “My stepfather loves my mother.”

Callum’s grin turned razor-sharp. “Not for eighteen nights, he didn’t.”

Before the tension could spike again, Kian stepped forward, voice low and firm. “If you had a heart, you’d let Severyn rest. She’s exhausted. She needs clean clothes.”

Malachi raised a hand weakly. “Is anyone going to comfort me? I was at peace. And now I’m back, and you’re all just… arguing?”

Callum’s smile vanished. “You’re Malvoria’s property now, darling. We’ll tell you when to speak. That includes sleeping, too.”

Kian moved closer to me, his hand wrapping gently around my elbow. “We’re leaving.”

“Severyn stays with me,” Callum snapped.

The door slammed open.

Lorna stepped into the room, broad-shouldered with chin-length blonde hair and eyes as sharp as ever. She was Charles’s bonded rider, his most loyal ally. “No,” she said clearly. “Severyn stays with me.”

Callum’s scowl darkened. “Rok said I’m to watch her.”

“Lead Guard Blanche outranks him,” she said. “Rok’s orders don’t matter to me.”

“Lorna!” I gasped, relief breaking free in my chest. “Where have you been?”

She didn’t answer. Just motioned for Malachi and me to follow. “It’s a long walk to my camp. Come.”

Malachi trailed behind, dazed and mumbling something about farming and wind. My stomach churned. Gods, what had I done?

“I’m coming,” Kian said, then faltered. “...ma’am.”

Lorna glanced over her shoulder, one brow lifted. “Don’t call me ma’am. You age me.”

“Sorry. Woman? Guard? Miss—ugh.” He winced. “I’ve just heard a lot about you. They say you’re a legacy guard. Killed two beasts with your bare hands.”

“Three,” she said without slowing. “Call me Lorna.”

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