Page 33 of Severed Heir

Then it was my turn. “Strip,” Rok barked. “Or I’ll slice your shirt off myself.”

My back slammed into an iron column. Smoke curled from the branding rod in his hand. It was far too close for my comfort. But there was no way in hell I was taking off my shirt and exposing my Serpent mark. Not here. Not now.

“Can’t you brand my arm instead?” I asked, voice tight.

“No. This is tradition.” His mismatched eyes gleamed. “Don’t make me ask again.”

Ellison winced but forced a shrug. “It’s not that bad,” he lied. “Feels like your skin’s peeling off, but if you smile, your brain gets confused and thinks it’s a good time.”

I didn’t care about the pain. I cared about Rok seeing my Serpent mark and exposing me and Archer’s relationship. He’d seen us together before my first night in the dungeons.

“Rok, I can’t,” I said, panic rising.

He grabbed my elbow and yanked me toward the dungeons. “You want a little privacy, sure. Let’s go somewhere private.”

I stumbled and my elbow cracked against the blood-stained stone. “You’re Malvoria’s now,” he growled. “You’ll strip, or I’ll do it for you.”

“I can’t,” I gasped. “I don’t want to show my body.”

He narrowed his eyes. “As cruel as I am, I don’t touch what’s not mine. But you’ve got two uniforms. If you want to walk around naked, fine by me.”

I clutched my elbow. “You don’t understand—Ican’t.”

If he saw the mark, he’d know. They all would. That I was an heir. And Rok, he wasn’t just muscle and brutality, he’d put it together. Archer hadmademe his heir.

Rok unsheathed his dagger with a hiss of steel. I scrambled back, but he grabbed me by the throat and dragged me upright.

“Take off your shirt,” he snarled, breath like smoke, “or I brand your face.”

“Then brand my face,” I hissed.

He scoffed, tossing the rod at my feet. “Light it, then.”

I raised my hand, but nothing came.

“Why is your flame so damn weak?” he sneered. “You have a protector quell.”

“I don’t know why.”

He caught my hand, peeled it open and studied the scarring. “You were bitten. Something pierced your relic.” He paused. “Snake fangs?”

I yanked away. “If you’re going to brand me, do it somewhere my Serpent mark isn’t.”

His expression turned sharp. “Bullshit. We’d know.”

I hesitated. Then lifted the hem of my leathers just enough to reveal the mark carved on my spine. “I’m the heir of Night,” I said quietly. “Now tell me, what will it take to keep you quiet?”

Rok’s mouth curled into something between a grin and a snarl. “Ohh this is messy,” he mused. “But I’m always up for a deal. But first, light it.”

“I told you. My flame is weak.”

He didn’t blink. Just raised a hand, and with a single gesture, I felt the familiar wrench as my power was siphoned from me. A burst of black flame spiraled from my chest and coiled into his palm.

“Rok—please, stop!”

“I’m siphoning itforyou,” he said. “Since you’re too weak.” His face twisted in the glow. “I’ll let you pick where,” he said.

I lifted my shirt again, voice barely steady. “Fine. Brand my ribs. But no one can know I am an heir.”

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