Page 145 of Severed Heir

But all I could see were the hollow eyes of the woman he’d bought to save.

“Amria?” I gasped, the name ripping from my throat. “She was bought? From her barren realm?”

Archer’s voice lowered. “I stopped it the moment I took power. Amria is not a slave.”

“But she’s a servant. She serves you… and me.” The gown clung too tightly now, suffocating in places it hadn’t before.

“She chooses to stay,” he said quietly. “She has the freedom to leave whenever she wants. And trust me—Amria doesn’t serve anyone who doesn’t earn it. She enjoys her life. She holds her own.”

Before I could respond, Lasar’s voice sliced in. “Your father’s heir is here, Severyn. Alone. Let’s see if a taste of elite indulgence breaks him.”

I turned fast.

Bridger stood just inside the entrance, shaking hands with Hadrian. He had the same angular jaw, the same smug grin. But now, a serpent’s head was branded across his arm. His silver hair was slicked back, and he wore a tailored suit with a bow tie—like he belonged here. Like he always had.

“Perfect,” I muttered, the words like iron on my tongue. “I came here to find my real father. Not to watch my fake one parade his heir.”

Lasar’s smirk deepened. “Can’t say I’m surprised.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He leaned in, his voice was dark with something I couldn’t place. “When a woman who wields death enters a room, men either run or fall to their knees. That kind of power terrifies people. Your mother had them bowing.”

I held his stare. “Do you know who my father is?”

The humor drained from his expression. “I wish I did. Your mother came to these gatherings. She had… admirers.”

My voice caught. “Admirers? Please, give me a name.”

“Your instinct to come here wasn’t wrong. Heisyour father, Severyn. Blood doesn’t define family. Andri loves you like his own. Whoever your father is, he doesn’t matter.”

But I watched as his eyes followed Hadrian.

“In a world where blood matters…” I whispered. “I want the truth.”

Lasar’s tone dropped, suddenly heavy. “What I’m about to tell you, no one else can know.”

I nodded. “Okay.”

“Hadrian was a Serpent mentor during your mother’s time,” Lasar said. “But if you plan to accuse him, don’t. You’d be safer not knowing at all.”

“Lasar—”

His grip tightened on my shoulder. “They whisper about the man whose land survived famine. But no one dares call someone ‘sinister’ when he buys barrens. Hadrian’s bought many over the years. And a girl raised as a Scavenger?” He shook his head. “She’d do anything to survive. Even bear a daughter for a man she knew held power.”

“I can handle the truth,” I said.

His fingers dug in deeper. “Fallon killed people. Some of their families are here tonight. Her quell was stripped, but her dignity?” He paused, gaze hardening. “She lost that when she met Hadrian… and realized who she was to him.”

Archer’s breath hitched beside me. “What are you saying?”

Lasar leaned in slightly. “You already know. The truemate legend.”

Archer scoffed, but there was no humor in it. “You believe in that political myth?”

“There’s no doubt in my mind,” Lasar said, calm as ever. “I saw them together.”

The weight of it all pressed hard against my ribs. “It’s him,” I said at last, the words barely more than a whisper. “Hadrian is my father.”

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