Page 201 of Severed Heir

I shook my head. “Quite scandalous making love to another Serpent’s heir,” I said.

He pushed himself inside of me and my head leaned back. “That sounded political to me, but I’ll allow it.”

“Could this start a war?”

His chest fell against mine, breath against my ear. “I have no political ties with Wrathi. So yeah, being inside his heir and hearing her moans could start a war.”

“Good.”

He wrapped his hand around my neck gently. “I think you enjoy being rebellious.” He groaned in my ear.

“Yes.”

Then he kissed me again, deeper and ash fell on our bare bodies like rain. “Don’t worry about burning me,” he urged, his thumb stroking my breast. “Don’t hold it in.”

“I don’t have the strength to hold it in,” I said.

I couldn’t hold back. Flames flared in my palm, the heat curling up my spine as his mouth found my throat. He nipped and sucked at my skin until even my neck felt marked by him.

We weren’t making love anymore. This was war. Desperate and consuming, a clash of bodies and breath as he drove into me, deeper with every thrust. I reached up, tracing the serpent inked along his neck, feeling the strain in his tendons as he moved. Every inch of him was power, and every part of me answered it.

“That’s it,” he groaned. “Release it, little heir.”

It wasn’t a god I cried out for as I dug my nails into his bare neck, it was him. I toppled to my knees and stared up as I took his hard, erect cock between my hands and clamped my lips over the head and sucked.

“Fuck, Severyn,” he groaned.

“Shh,” I urged. He ran his hand through the damp ends of my hair, gently guiding my face closer to his body as I took him deeper in my mouth.

“Shit,” he moaned. Then I swirled my tongue up and down his shaft until he leaned back and finished. Both of us panting and wrecked.

We cleaned up after. Then, for hours, we lay tangled in the warmth of his bed, our limbs a quiet knot beneath the covers. Starlight poured through the open balcony doors, casting soft silver hues across the room. My head rested on his chest, rising and falling with each steady beat of his heart.

“You should sleep,” Archer murmured, his voice hushed against the dark. “After-battle sex will tire anyone out.”

“I can’t,” I whispered. “Hadrian expects me in Wrathi in three days.”

His fingers threaded through my hair slowly. “When I won my title, my grandfather was sick. He handed me the crown before I even understood what it meant. I was terrified. I thought the people wouldn’t follow me. That I’d fail them. That I’d fail him.” He paused. “I never let anyone see it,” he said. “I couldn’t.”

“We’re all a little broken,” I said.

“So we are, little heir,” he murmured, brushing his knuckles down my cheek. “So we are.”

“I have three days left,” I whispered. “I want to live all of it. You. Demetria. The traditions. Everything I never got to have.”

His smile was soft and aching. “You want to see what your life could’ve been?”

“I want to see it with you.”

“Close your eyes,” he said, voice barely above a breath. “And when you wake, I’ll show you.”

I curled deeper into him, my fingers tracing the lines of his chest, memorizing every ridge and scar. Soon, I’d leave for Wrathi. Soon, I’d become Hadrian’s heir.

“I remember the day you came to my estate,” I whispered. “I thought my father was going to kill you. It feels like a lifetime ago.”

Archer gave a soft laugh. “He thought I was there to claim you as my wife. He didn’t know I hadn’t even won the Summer title. Everything was unraveling. My grandfather had just surrendered the crown. I was drowning… and then I heard you for the first time.”

“You heard me in your mind before the academy?”

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