Page 43 of Severed Heir

The dragon stood tall, wings half-furled, his violet eyes glowing. His talons cut deep furrows into the ice. One look, and he unleashed a blast of black flame. The second ice beast shrieked, its body flailing as it vanished into the trees.

For a moment it was dead silent before Naraic hovered above me.“Severyn Blanche,”his voice rumbled through the bond.“You nearly severed our bond that night you fled the academy.”

I dropped to my knees, chest heaving. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I betrayed you that night. I shouldn’t have—”

His head dipped low, breath curling with smoke.“I will only say this once.”His voice cut through the bond like steel, and for the first time, I saw the wildness in his stance.“Disobey me again, and I will be forced to sever our bond. I protect you. Always.”

Tears welled, hot and shameful.“I won’t break your trust again.”

A huff of air left his lungs, swirling soot and warmth around my hands. Power seared into my relic like a brand, reigniting something I thought I’d lost.

Then his gaze shifted at Kian. Something flickered in those violet depths. Not just recognition. Instinct.“Another one…”He inhaled sharply.“He smells the same.”

I placed a trembling hand on Naraic’s snout, grounding him. “His brother,” I said softly. A low rumble rolled through him.“We can trust him.”

Behind me, Cully stood frozen mid-step, journal limp in his hands, mouth slightly open. “Ugh,that’s a real dragon.”

Fraser slung an arm around his shoulders. “Cully, breathe before you pass out.”

I pulled Kian’s jacket tighter and kept walking. The others followed, Naraic lumbering behind us, each swing of his massive tail sending snow and branches flying.

Fraser caught up once Cully shook off the shock. “Good to be out of the dungeons, Severyn?” he asked. “It’s a hard cycle to break, that place. Easy to forget what daylight feels like.”

I gave a faint nod. “Thanks—for what you did that first night with Rok.”

Fraser shrugged. “Yeah, well. Rok’s been twitchy lately. Never did have a handle on that temper.”

I crossed my arms, bearing the cold walk. “So, what’s your story? When did you join the guards?” I asked.

Fraser had the rugged charm of a battle-worn guard—broad-shouldered, snow-dusted blond hair, and eyes so pale they looked carved from quartz. He filled the silence on our walk to my estate with stories—tales of battles across Verdonia, of being born in one of the fallen Day realms. Exiled and conscripted into Malvoria’s ranks, he’d climbed faster than most. Lost a finger toa water beast in the Iron Wastes and once dragged three comrades from a burning camp with a broken leg.

By the time he finished, Cully was doubled over, hands on his knees, wheezing. “You don’t mind if I journal that, do you? Also—exactly which finger was it?”

Antonia rolled her eyes. “Keep up, writer. It was the ring finger.”

Myla gave her a look. “You have that memorized?”

Antonia flushed, too fast. “No. It was... in one of his stories.”

Cully ignored them, still gasping. “Can we rest? Severyn can light a fire or something. Please?”

Fraser ran a hand through his hair, scanning the bruised sky. “We shouldn’t stop. Nightfall’s too close, and there’s no shelter. Myla might survive the cold, but the rest of us?” His gaze fell on Cully’s trembling frame. “We’ll freeze.”

“Shouldn’t the lake be nearby?” Cully asked, voice tight as we stepped into a wide clearing.

I squinted through the evergreen trees. Beyond them, a few lonely street lanterns blinked dimly, barely cutting through the dusk.

“I thought so,” I murmured. I could’ve sworn it was closer. I fanned my face with my sleeve, sweat already pricking at my brow. Gods. Why was it so warm?

Antonia’s voice snapped through the quiet. “What do you mean you’re not sure? You grew up here.”

A sharp crack split the ground beneath our boots. Myla froze mid-step. “Guys… I think we’re on the lake.”

I looked down, and sure enough slush pooled beneath my boot. This couldn’t be good. “This lake surrounds Colindale,” I said, throat tightening. “We’re close to my home.”

Fraser stepped up beside me, eyes narrowing. “That’s slush, Severyn. I think you’re melting it.”

If the yellow-scaled fish frozen mid-swim beneath the surface wasn’t enough to convince me, the rising water at my ankles was. I was melting the lake, and we were in the dead center of it.

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