Page 176 of Severed Heir

Rok raised an eyebrow, amused. “What will you do when his borders collapse? You’re untrained. Your shadow quells are a mess. And guarding his realm with flames is a disaster waiting to happen.”

“I don’t know,” I snapped. “This quell... it’s different. It’s like it doesn’t belong to me.”

Rok’s expression softened, just slightly, and when he spoke again, his voice had lowered.

“A simple barter, Severyn. One that doesn’t demand war, or a broken marriage stitched together with lies. Delair’s home is in Demetria. The shadows you carry were never meant for you to keep. Give them back to him, and my sister’s land survives.”

He took a breath, gaze steady. “In return, I’ll find that memory for you. Charles will learn about Lorna soon enough—we can’t outrun that. But this… this we can still control.”

“How?” I asked.

Rok extended his hand. “Do we have a deal?”

I stared at his hand, tracing the rough calluses on his palm. “Fine. But I need to know how to give him my shadows.”

The burn inside me shifted, flowing through the cords of his siphon as our hands met. “First, I needed to give you back your flames before my stepfather accused me of stealing it. Second, you find Archer. Demand he take it back. If that doesn’t work, I have my ways.”

“The night I was heired. I need to know the last words Damien said to me.”

Rok grinned. “I’ll try my best, but I can’t promise anything.”

It was the easiest, cleanest barter I’d ever made. Yet it tore at my insides, knowing Rok would do me this favor for his sister’s sake.

He went to leave, but then turned once more, his hand resting on the doorframe. “You’ll have to act better than you did with Charles when Lorna doesn’t wake. Don’t take the blame. Being noble will only get you killed.”

Everything hit at once as the door closed. Malachi had fled. Lorna was poisoned. My mother had an affair with a monster.

And I may have brought my brother backto life.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Screams that woke the sleeping griffins were never a good sign. But when the golden arches of Setrephia clawed through the clouds with my cry, I knew I’d been convincing.

Charles burst through the door, wild-eyed. For a heartbeat, I didn’t believe he could break. But then he did. He gathered Lorna into his arms, her long limbs limp against his chest, and shouted at me for answers I didn’t have.

“What happened?”

“She—she didn’t wake up,” I stammered. “I tried. I tried to wake her.”

Three more stormed in. A few cursed under their breath when they realized there was no shield on the shed.

Callum strode forward and pressed two fingers to Lorna’s temple. “She’s breathing.” Then his eyes cut to the empty cot behind me. “Where is she?”

“Malachi?” I asked, as if saying her name might summon her. “I don’t know. Her bed was empty when I woke up.”

“Call the hounds.” He whistled sharply, ripping the linens from the bed and shoving them into a guard’s hands. “Find her. Now.”

Rok leaned against the doorway, arms crossed. “From her veins, she looks poisoned.”

He wasn’t wrong. Icy tendrils laced Lorna’s pale throat, faint but visible. And as Charles pried open one of her eyes, I saw the unnatural gleam in her pupils.

This was my fault. I had brought that damned potion into the institute.

Charles rushed toward me, shaking my shoulders. “Tell me everything! What did Malachi give her? Sev, this is life or death. I need to know.”

“I don’t know,” I hissed.

Callum spoke, “She had nothing on her body.”

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