Page 193 of Severed Heir

My flame cracked. Pain bloomed in my chest, sharp and sudden. My knees buckled, and I hit the ground hard.

“You’re fighting,” he said. “But you don’t think you deserve it. You don’t see what I see.”

“I hate you.”

“Good.”

A low rumble echoed over the rise. The ground trembled beneath my hands. I looked up, breath catching in my throat as the sound grew louder. Hooves thundered across the earth, shaking the fog loose in pulsing bursts.

And then he appeared through the smoke.

Not a god. But he could have passed for one.

Archer.

His cloak snapped behind him, each gallop cutting through the haze. The warhorse surged beneath him, wild with momentum. Before it fully stopped, Archer launched himself from the saddle, landing hard in the churned earth. His bow slipped from his grasp mid-run, forgotten the moment he saw me.

He didn’t hesitate.

He ran straight for me, like nothing else in the world mattered.

“No,” I rasped, backing up as the panic rose. “No, no, no. Archer, stay back!”

But he didn’t slow. Not even for a second. He ran straight for me, eyes locked, like I was the only thing in the world that mattered.

And I couldn’t protect him.

Then something colder than fear pulled at me. It started as a whisper beneath my skin, then spread. Whatever it was, it didn’t just frighten me. It devoured. It moved through my veins like ice, carving into my bones with an ache that felt older than time, older than flame or blood or memory. It wanted something. No, it wantedeverything.

And it was coming for me.

Rok stepped through the haze and his siphon hand was aimed right at me.

“What are you doing?” I gasped.

It felt like he was peeling the light from inside me, thread by thread. Like he had reached in and found the softest part of my soul and begun to tear.

“He’s draining you,” Archer snarled. “Threading your shadows like their forbidden.” He lunged. In one fluid motion, he drew his dagger and slammed Rok back, the blade pressed to his throat. “Let her go,” Archer hissed. “Now.”

“She’s not strong enough to wield both,” Rok said sharply. “You’re wasting your fight.”

My vision blurred. Shadows tore loose from my chest with every breath. “Did you send me here to die?” I asked.

Archer shook his head, wild-eyed. “I would’ve died for you. I broke the bond to save you.”

The last of the shadows tore free, curling into the dirt like smoke. I reached for them, desperate to gather the pieces—but they slipped through my fingers like water. With my next breath, I felt the hollowness inside.

I had no shadows left.

“Why?” My voice cracked as I turned to Rok. “Why would you take them?”

His eyes didn’t burn with triumph. They burned with grief. “This is the promise we made, Severyn,” he said softly. “Demetria must survive.”

I remembered the bargain we had made in Lorna’s shed. I turned to Archer, stumbling the last few steps until my hand found his shoulder. His breath hitched beneath my touch.

“Take them,” I said. “They’re yours.”

He didn’t look at me. His blade remained fixed at Rok’s throat. “No, you need the shadows to remain as my heir.”

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