Page 173 of Severed Heir

“Delair was… your sister?” I asked.

He nodded. “My father was the Serpent of our fallen land. I was seven. Sorpine was the first to arrive after the attack—sent to clear out the survivors. That’s how he met my mother. Delair came nine months later.”

“She was invited to the academy,” I said softly. “Even though her realm went barren?”

“She was. My mother was proud. Royal blood didn’t matter—Delair was chosen to begin a new life in Demetria. I was sent to live there, too, but I chose to grow up here, under Sorpine’s watch.”

“And you?” I asked. “Were you invited to the academy?”

“I declined.”

“Why?”

He hesitated. “Because the day my land died, I inherited every dying breath. My mother hid us in a basement while Sorpine’s men raided the village. She needed a protector, and he was there. I could never understand how she could fall for a man while my father died defending our home.”

My voice caught. “You became a siphon… at seven?”

He nodded. “I didn’t take your shadows out of revenge, Severyn. I did it to feel something untouched by pain. To know shadows could exist… without fear or death.”

“I never wanted to hurt her,” I whispered. “I’m sorry.”

Rok’s jaw tightened. “Wouldyouforgive him?”

My throat burned. He meant Charles. He meant Klaus. “No,” I choked. “I don’t.”

“Then you have your answer.” His voice turned to steel. “Don’t say sorry. It won’t bring my sister back.”

A sound cracked from the doorway.

“Quick,” Rok said sharply. “Scream and make it believable. No one can know I didn’t turn you in for snooping.”

He grabbed my wrist just as the door slammed open. It was Charles. Blood crusted his jaw, his knuckles already split. And the second he saw Rok’s hands on me, something in him snapped.

“Get your hands off my sister!” Charles roared.

“Charles—wait!”

I stepped forward, but I was too late. He tackled Rok, slamming him to the floor and striking again and again, until blood sprayed across the cabin walls.

I lunged forward, grabbing his arm. “Charles, stop!”

But he didn’t hear me. He was lost in the rage. He was going to kill him, so I did the only thing I could. I pressed my relic to Rok’s shoulder and let the flame pass through me and into him.

With a guttural cry, Rok struck back, leaving a scorched lash of heat seared across Charles’s cheek.

“Damnit,” Charles hissed, staggering back.

Rok sat up, lip split and bleeding. “Your sister is powerful,” he rasped.

Charles wiped at the scorched welt on his face, his glare blistering. “You’ll be stripped of your siphon. I’ll see to it myself.”

I stepped between them, placing my hands on Charles’s chest. “I gave him my flame. He didn’t take it. I just didn’t want you to kill him.”

Charles narrowed his eyes. “Is that true?”

Still, Rok stayed silent.

“Very well,” Charles muttered, jaw tight. “Seems as strayed as our bloodline is, so too is our judgment. Giving your quell away willingly… it isn’t right.”

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