Page 155 of Severed Heir

Water spiraled from his hands in powerful, relentless waves, drowning the fire room by room. Windows burst outward. Ash and soot rose in the air like black snow, drifting through the ruin.

“Get out!” he shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos. “I can’t hold it much longer!”

Archer stumbled through the smoke and fell against me. I caught him, arms locking around his body, trembling from the weight and the shock.

“You’re safe,” I whispered, fingers brushing his face. His skin was cold, soaked to the bone, but he was alive. He was breathing.

“How many?” he rasped, turning toward Victor.

“Five,” Victor said, his voice grim. “One’s been captured. Three escaped into the streets. We don’t have long.”

“What’s happening?” I asked, blinking through the haze.

Archer’s jaw tightened. “The Forgotten have attacked Wrathi.”

I stared at him, the words barely registering. “What? Why?”

But there was no time for answers.

Figures emerged through the drifting smoke. Charles stood at the front, his silver armor was streaked with soot. Hadrian stood beside him, his expression unreadable, as if weighing every piece of the ruin around us. Just behind them, Caius stepped through the remains of the hostel, his gaze sweeping the wreckage like he was searching for something.

A fireball streaked across the sky overhead, breaking apart into glowing embers before crashing into a distant building. The ground trembled beneath our feet, and a deep boom rolled through the courtyard.

“They’ll burn this realm to ash,” I whispered, throat tight. “Why would they do this?”

“They don’t need a reason,” Archer said, his voice low and frayed. “We need to leave. Now.”

“Allow me,” Victor said without hesitation. He lifted his hands, and water erupted from the ground, rising around us in a spiraling vortex. It spun faster and tighter, a cyclone of pressure and sound that swallowed everything around us.

Then the world blurred.

And I couldn’t breathe.

Saltwater rushed into my mouth and nose. My chest seized, vision blackening as if the ocean itself had swallowed me whole. The world twisted, time bent—and then we hit the hot sand.

I rolled onto my side, coughing as saltwater poured from my mouth. The roar of the sea filled my ears. Brine stung my eyes. Smoke and ash clung to the wind, mixing with the ocean air until I couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began.

“We’re in Ravensla,” I said, my voice raw as I struggled to sit upright. “He portaled us.”

My head snapped toward Victor. I hadn’t even realized he was with us. He was already on his feet, barely winded, as if the fire and the storm hadn’t touched him at all.

“You had no right to portal us,” Archer growled, rising beside me.

Victor turned to him without flinching. “And if I hadn’t? You’d both be trapped in the middle of a battle.”

I clung to Archer, my balance still fragile. “Please,” I said. “Just tell us what’s going on.”

Victor glanced at me with a sneer. “Your heir is indecently dressed. It seems reputation means little to you if you’re taking her to bed during an elite gathering.”

Only then did I realize what he meant. Archer’s shirt still clung to my soaked skin. My legs were bare. It was all I had on. I’ll admit, it wasn’t my finest moment.

Archer’s voice dropped, low and dangerous. “Say one more word about her, and it’ll be the last thing you ever say.”

Victor gave a dry smile. “Then I’d better start preparing my will.”

“You’re going to tell us everything,” Archer said, stepping forward. “Start with Fallon Blanche.”

Victor went still. “You mean Fallon Herring.”

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