Page 170 of Severed Heir

“Who?”

“Monty. We share a rider bond. It started as something useful… and then it became something more.”

“What are you saying?”

“That we’re living the same life, Sev. A man willing to kill to save the woman he loves. Damien took my life at the trial. And Monty… he tried to take yours before it ever came to that.”

I stared at her, breath thinning in my chest. “I almost married Damien.”

She didn’t flinch. “He’s evil, Sev.”

“I almost married him, but the wedding was null.” The words tasted bitter. I didn’t want to unload it all. Not onto her. Not now.

Malachi grimaced. “Thank the Gods I was dead for that. So I can be your bridesmaid when you marry someone you actuallylove.”

I huffed. “I never want to stand still long enough to be hemmed again.”

A smile tugged at her lips. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” I said softly. “Even that day we didn’t sleep lying four breaths apart back in our dorm.”

Malachi wasn’t just my cousin. She was my friend. Maybe the first real friend I’d ever had.

We lay down, and the silence grew thicker than the dark. As I drifted toward sleep, my thoughts refused to quiet.

Had I really had two lives left to save when I flew to Demetria? Or had Damien never died at all? Maybe he’d twisted my mind to believe he did. Damien was Victor’s heir in every sense. He had tricked me before. But this—this betrayal was something else.

It was unforgivable.

Maybe the cruelest lie he ever told was the one I believed—that in another life, if I’d been born with ice in my veins, I might have grown to love him. He played his part well, pretending to be my friend, all while knowing I’d been promised to him.

But that girl—the one who might’ve chosen him, no longer existed.

Whoever I’d been before… she was long gone.

Chapter Thirty-One

Hours later, Lorna slipped inside and took off her leathers with a sigh. Then she collapsed into a bunk without a word.

Malachi’s amber eyes peeked out from beneath the gray duvet. She looked like a creature snared in barbed wire, trembling beneath the weight of something she couldn’t name.

She was afraid, and I didn’t know how to reach her.

Giving someone a second chance always took something from me—a piece I didn’t realize I’d given until it was already gone. Tonight, it felt like it had taken everything.

“Sev,” Malachi whispered. Her voice barely carried, muffled beneath Lorna’s quiet snores. “I’m thirsty.”

I scanned the room for anything—an old canister, a forgotten flask, gods, even a chipped bowl. But there was nothing but dust and discarded parchment. “Can you wait until morning?” I asked, though I already knew the answer. “Or I could wake Lorna?”

“No.” She groaned softly, curling tighter beneath the duvet. “Let her sleep. I just... I really need water. My throat’s so dry it hurts.”

“Okay,” I said, rising to my feet. “I’ll go. It’s safer if I do.”

Her gaze met mine, softened by fatigue and something more vulnerable. “Hurry back.”

Leaving Lorna’s side was a risk. But Malachi had clawed her way back from death. The least I could do was ease her suffering.

I slipped into the night, each step light against the damp earth. Rotting leaves softened my footfalls as I crossed the clearing, their decay sweet and sharp in the cold air. The chill bit at my cheeks, threading beneath my collar like fingers made of frost. Moonlight poured through the trees in narrow streaks, turning the mud to silver and casting long shadows across the path ahead.

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