Page 91 of Severed Heir

I scoffed and ignored his outstretched hand. “I’m not a damsel, Damien. Be grateful my uncle denied our marriage bid five years ago. I would’ve poisoned you in your sleep.”

“Don’t hold your breath, Mal. One of us will be heired.” Then he leaned in, his breath skimming my cheek. “And once Severyn becomes my wife, we’ll be family, won’t we? Cousin-in-laws.”

Fury tightened in my chest. “She’s Archer’s heir. That bargain died the moment he claimed her.”

Damien’s smile twisted. “The glorious thing about prison? Archer’s word doesn’t matter anymore. Treason rewrites everything.”

And with that, he jumped into the crater.

“You could try being normal!” I called after him, unsure if he even heard me.

I followed. The cold hit first, then the dark. The tunnel swallowed the light, swallowed the sound. Knox and the others were already gone.

Now it was just me, Damien, and the dark.

“You sound desperate,” I said, trying to keep my voice even.

“And you sound scared,” he replied, calm as ever.

“I’m not scared.”

“You should be,” he murmured. “Everyone’s out for blood. And yours, Mal? Yours is particularly tempting.”

I quickened my pace. I couldn’t see him, but his voice curled behind me now, close and wrong.

“I want out of this godsdamn tunnel,” I muttered, pushing faster.

“Does Severyn know you love Monty?” His voice sharpened. “Or that the man who tried to kill her wasn’t just some fling, like you pretended?”

“Get out of my head.”

“You don’t even want the title,” he said. “You just want to survive long enough to prove you can. You wear silence like armor and call it strength. Maybe try letting someone in for once.”

“I don’t love Monty,” I snapped.

“Lie to yourself all you want. But I know you, Mallie. I always have.”

A flicker of light broke at the end of the tunnel. I moved fast and desperately. The wind surged ahead, brushing my cheek with a whisper I couldn’t tell was mine or something deeper.

Run.

The wind was telling me to run. And this time, I listened.

“Say you don’t love him,” Damien called from behind. “Say it to my face.”

I didn’t look back. “I don’t.”

Something struck hard against my ribs. My breath caught, then broke.

“Shit,” I gasped, stumbling to my knees. I didn’t see the blood at first, not until the pain turned sharp and wet, and the dirt beneath me bloomed red. It spread fast, the color so dark it bled into black.

I didn’t see his hand shift again until the glass shard plunged into my chest, straight through the heart. Honestly, I hadn’t thought he had it in him. Pain tore down my spine. I collapsed, choking, blood flooding through my fingers as I clutched the wound at my ribs.

“No.” I gasped, the world tilting, spinning, blurring at the edges.

Damien knelt beside me, turning my body to face him. “Six feet under, Mal. Just like the rest of your family. A part of you wanted this, didn’t you?”

I clawed at the glass, fingers slick with blood, but the shard was buried too deep. Every breath tore through me like fire.

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