Page 88 of Severed Heir

Then a ring of light and ash burst at the edge of the field. Someone came through it, tumbling hard onto the ground. They landed flat on their back, then shifted upright, only to fall again, right on their ass.

Ellison blinked hard, then staggered to his feet with a fresh scorch mark streaked across his brow. His eyes scanned the bleachers, dazed, like the world hadn’t just watched him crash through a flame-portal like a panicked housecat.

“Severyn!” he called, far too loud for my liking.

“Oh, gods,” I muttered, lifting my serpent-stemmed glass to cover my face.

Lasar barely turned his head. “What now?”

I gestured to Ellison. “That guard won’t leave me alone.”

“Ah. To be young.” He sipped his wine, eyes still on the field. “Would you like me to ice him?”

“No. My brother probably sent him to watch me.”

“An alliance with the Summer realm would be wise,” he said, as if he hadn’t just offered to frost a man alive. “A marriage binding Demetria and Wrathi could save your father’s land. That is the prevailing chatter among Serpents.”

“I can’t become a marriage bid,” I hissed. “Again.It’s too complicated.”

He glanced sideways, his expression unreadable. “Perhaps the sun was not stripped from North Colindale because your father failed, but because Victor twisted the bargain. A barter is a barter, and Victor Lynch does not have an heir yet. Perhaps the light remained only to keep the illusion of peace.”

His words hit me like frost on bare skin. “I haven’t really thought about that bargain in a while.”

“There is still one of Victor’s sons left to claim his title.”

“No, there’s not.”

Ellison jogged up the last steps, brushing a scorched lock behind his ear. “I’m here,” he announced, slightly winded. “For your protection, obviously.”

“How did you know I’d be here?”

“I guessed.” He shrugged. Then he deadpanned, gaze landing squarely on Lasar.

Lasar raised a brow. “Why are you glaring at me?”

“I thought you’d move,” Ellison said, gesturing to the space between us. “I was hoping to sit beside Severyn.”

“And you expected me to understand that... through a stare?”

“I was staring at the seat,” Ellison muttered.

Lasar took a long sip of wine. “And I was hoping for a trial without theatrics. Do you know who I am?”

“Right. Okay.” Ellison side-stepped to the far end of the bench. “I’ll sit on the edge like a peasant.”

Lasar gave him a long look. “Are you ill?”

“What? No. Just trying to sit down.”

“You have curious behavior,” Lasar murmured. “You look like you were attacked by smoke and indecision.”

“Just sit beside Lasar,” I said, pressing my fingers to my temple. “You’re causing a scene.”

A beat of silence followed. Then Ellison flopped down with a huff. “I hear there’s a lindworm battle today. My bets are on the king’s granddaughter.”

But I barely heard him. My mind was still spinning.

“What did you mean earlier?” I asked Lasar. “About Victor having a potential heir? Archer failed to claim his father’s title.”

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