Page 157 of Severed Heir

His gaze drifted toward the common room, where a kettle sat scorched and long forgotten. “I don’t want trouble,” he said softly.

I did. But I didn’t say that out loud.

I stepped closer. “Do you know who my father is?”

Lynwood exhaled slowly, the heaviness of memory settling into his voice. “She was lost for a long time,” he said. “She didn’t even know her own mother. Not until the man who raised her used her for things she couldn’t escape. His name was Sciver. He made her kill people. Maybe they were bad men. But she was just a girl.”

His gaze dropped. When he spoke again, his voice had softened. “When Fallon came back here, after she got the academy invitation, she wasn’t the same.”

I swallowed hard. “I had no idea.”

“As for your father…” His words faltered. “She stopped coming to Ravensla after that. I lost track of her life. But once, maybe twenty-five years ago, she returned. She stood outside the illusionist’s stall for hours. Wouldn’t speak. Wouldn’t look me in the eye.”

“You should’ve known something was wrong,” Archer said. “You were her friend.”

Lynwood rubbed at his temples, guilt creasing his brow. “I know. But she’d married a Serpent. Our lives were split. I didn’t know how to talk to her anymore.”

“What season was it?” Archer pressed. “After the Harvest Festival?”

“I don’t remember,” Lynwood murmured. “But it was after Andri was titled.”

“That doesn’t narrow it down,” I said, frustration tightening my voice. “Why does that even matter?”

Archer stayed measured. “Anyone who spends hours with an illusionist is trying to forget something.”

I leaned in. “If you remember anything else, please. I need to know why my mother turned to them. Why she chose the Forgotten. Why she chose…” I didn’t even want to say that monster’s name.

Lynwood’s expression darkened. “She wasn’t herself. Kept muttering about a son. I assumed she’d just found out she was pregnant with Charles. She was always afraid of passing on her gifts. Afraid of what she might create.”

I brushed a hand over the desk. “We’ve spent too much time figuring this out. I just… wanted to understand why my mother lied so much.”

And yet, part of me still held onto the hope that it wasn’t Hadrian. But I knew the moment his Port spoke to me, he was.

Lynwood lifted his gaze, a faint smile on his lips. “If your real father is a Serpent and lacks an heir, your title could transfer. It’s happened before. If there are two heirs in one family. He may not know you even exist.”

Caius was Hadrian’s heir. I don’t know what I would do if I became the heir of Wrathi.

“What do you know about Hadrian Sinclair?” Archer asked.

“The fifth Summer Serpent,” Lynwood whispered. “He was Fallon’s Serpent leader during her academy days.” His hands gripped the desk, eyes flicking between us. “I suppose one could fall in love while attending a ruthless academy.”

I leaned in, my heart racing. “I opened his port. What does that mean?”

Lynwood’s glasses glinted in the dim light. “If Caius dies, and he’s your father, you’d become the heir to Wrathi.”

A wave of heat crawled up my neck. “His heir,” I whispered. “He’s a horrible man.”

Archer’s voice cut through. “She is my heir.”

Lynwood’s brow curved. “The title will always call to those with the bloodline. Shadows are not natural to Severyn, who knows what kind of risk they may have later on.” His gaze flicked to my shadow relic.

I clenched my fists. “Thank you, Lynwood. But we need to go.”

As I turned, his hand shot out and caught mine. “Take it, Severyn,” he said. “Veravine didn’t die for her title to fade. You don’t belong in the shadows.”

“I was heired properly,” I replied, my voice steady. “But thank you for the advice.”

He hesitated, then crossed to his desk and rummaged through a drawer for a key. “Stay the night at the inn. You both look too exhausted to travel. Whether by air or portal, it isn’t safe in your condition.”

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