Page 178 of Severed Heir

What did he know? That smug bastard always knew more than he let on. All at once, I wasn’t sure testing Damien’s quell was safe after all.

“A guard will be stationed outside your dorm,” Rok added, addressing him without looking. “Not to worry, heir of Ravensla. I would hate for such a gift to be wasted on a revenge kill.”

It wasn’t dark swirls or shadows sucking inside Rok’s open palm when he touched Damien’s shoulder. It was a sheen of haze, a scatter of words and clipped voices, all distant in the air.

Rok closed his eyes briefly, as if tasting the air. “What an unusual sense. It’s a shame you claimed that title. We already have a brilliant guard who can bar shields… but you’ll still be useful in the fight.”

For a moment, I thought we were starting to understand each other, that maybe, beneath all his bitterness, some small part of him had begun to forgive me for what I did to his sister.

But the smile he gave me wasn’t kind.

“You’ll be a powerful weapon,” he said to me. “Especially now that Damien Lynch has revealed how your quell works. Something about seven keys at a trial?”

“No!” I hissed. “He’s lying.”

He chuckled, whirling his eyes to the iced grip of my once-closest alliance. “Myla Reinhart, are you aware that Severyn used a forbidden quell to resurrect you?”

Myla shook her head twice, stuttering over her words. “Sir, I—I, Severyn doesn’t have a forbidden quell.”

Bridger shoved his way down the line of heirs, raising a hand. “I saved Myla at that trial. I had her key. Severyn Blanche is innocent,” he said.

Had everything kept from light been nothing more than a misjudgment?

The man who once painted the iced wall with my blood, who swore he’d make me suffer, now stood between me and danger. Or maybe it wasn’t me he was protecting. Maybe it had always been Myla.

Rok’s voice raised. “Memories don’t lie. But a certain guard does. Myla, step forward.”

She nodded stiffly, her hands trembling at her sides. “Sir, I have no knowledge of the accusations you speak of.”

Rok shook his head. “You know the rules, Myla Reinhart. You were sworn in to report any forbidden quell. We can’t trust you.”

“No!” I cried. “Leave her out of this.”

Myla turned toward me, voice barely audible. “Is it true? Another lie? Another secret?”

“Myla,” I whispered. “Please.”

I wished she could have seen what I felt when I saw her lifeless during the trial. Back then, I hadn’t known what my power could do. Maybe I should have told her. Maybe that was the mistake.

Rok tilted his head, his voice measured and sharp. “One mind can lie. But two?”

He turned to the others, tone rising just enough to carry. “Myla died that day. And Severyn brought her back, because Archer Lynch believed a life was worth more than his own.”

“That’s not true,” I said. “Don’t you dare—”

But the look on his face silenced me. That mask of composure. That perfect, practiced calm. The man I believed could offer forgiveness just last night, that was the lie.

Rok’s tone sharpened. “Did you offer the same mercy to Delair Sorpine during Skyfall? Washerlife worth more than yours? Or the man who took his own life to save yours?”

And suddenly, every heir was staring as if I were a wound left untreated. An infection they feared might spread.

Rok turned, and with a flick of his wrist, siphoned Damien’s quell back inside him.

“It’s fascinating,” he mused. “The shields keep you out, and yet you’ve nearly mastered your quell. Even from a distance, you still break through.”

Damien didn’t flinch. “Keep it. I preferred the silence,” he said.

“I too prefer the silence,” Rok replied.

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