CHAPTER 39 - MEDRA
I adjusted the gold sash draped across the waist of my strapless black gown, fidgeting with it for at least the fourth time since I’d put it on. I always felt unnatural when I tried to look elegant, since I never felt anything of the sort. I caught sight of my reflection—the sleek, fitted bodice of my satin dress shimmered with gold embroidered flowers. I’d braided my hair into a crown, weaving a gold ribbon through it, and leaving just a few loose pieces to frame my face.
Beside me, Florence’s delicate blue dress caught the lamplight as she bent over to fasten a pair of silver earrings. The skirt of her gown was made of many layers of tulle and looked as if it had been spun from frost itself—perfect for winter solstice night.
“You look so pretty, Florence. That dress was definitely the right choice.” My eyes wandered to the ledge by the window where she’d carefully placed a book last night. It had been one of Naveen’s favorites. A fairytale collection he’d grown up reading. She planned to read it before the school break was over and we went back to class. The sight of it reminded me how much he must be on her mind.
“I’ve been thinking about him, too,” I said softly, gesturing to the book.
Florence had been brushing out her long black hair. She was leaving it down this evening. The silky tresses gleamed as they fell straight down around her shoulders like a midnight waterfall. Now she paused and looked at me. “He was my friend for so long. I still can’t believe he won’t show up at the door in a moment.”
“I know,” I whispered.
“I miss him, Medra. I miss his laugh, his silly sense of humor.” She put a hand to her mouth. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to stop.”
I saw the tears in her eyes and quickly moved over to put my arms around her shoulders.
“Tonight would have been a lot more fun with him here,” I said softly. “I wish he could see you in that dress. His eyes would pop right out of his head.”
Florence gave me a watery smile. I knew she’d been torn about what she felt for Naveen. He’d wanted to move from friends to something more. Would he have been the right person for Florence? The one to make her happy?
I tried to picture Florence with a partner, but it was no use. The problem was, in my mind, no one was good enough for her. She was a shining star. Brilliant, beautiful, and the sweetest person I knew.
“Do you still want to go tonight?” I asked. “Or should we stay in our room and make hot chocolate and read books? And by books, I mean talk, of course.”
But I never did find out how she’d have answered. There was a knock at the door.
I glanced at Florence, then crossed the room to open it.
Blake stood on the other side. He was dressed sharply, all in black, his waistcoat embroidered with red silk dragons. He looked handsome and regal as always, but there was something different about his posture. His usual cocky grin had been replaced with a sheepish smile. Behind him stood Visha and Theo, both equally well-dressed.
“I know you wanted to go with Florence tonight,” Blake said quickly. “But we were thinking, maybe we could all go together? As friends.”
“Vaughn and Lace are meeting us there,” Theo said, speaking up from behind his cousin.
I raised my eyebrow. “Students from different houses attending a ball together? I don’t know. Sounds scandalous if you ask me.” I turned to Florence who giggled. “Florence?”
She stepped forward, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, and smiled warmly at the trio. “I think that sounds very nice.”
“Good. It’s settled then,” Visha declared. “Let’s go and get this party started.”
Theo rolled his eyes. “As if you and Lace will even be at the party for long.”
“We might be,” she said innocently. “I told Evander I’d save him a dance.”
“What does he think of Lace?” I asked curiously.
“I don’t know,” Visha said nonchalantly. “Haven’t asked. Don’t plan to.”
I met Blake’s eyes and he grinned as if to say, “Typical Visha.”
Florence moved back into the room to fetch a soft white shawl she’d left draped over the back of a chair. As she wrapped it around herself, I noticed Blake’s eyes lingering on me.
“I have something for you.” He held a small black box out to me. “A gift.”
I took the box with some trepidation. “Blake, you didn’t have to get me anything.”
“Please,” he interrupted, his voice unusually hesitant. “Just...open it.”
I bit my lip, but lifted the lid. Inside was a pendant—a dragon carved in onyx, wings flared as if in mid-flight. “Nyxaris,” I breathed, immediately seeing the likeness.
“Do you like it?” Blake asked. “No house colors. No insignia. Just...your dragon.”
I understood what he was trying to say. That wearing the pendant wasn’t a claim. He wasn’t trying to mark me or label me. I knew he and Nyxaris didn’t even like each other, to put it mildly.
“It’s beautiful,” I murmured. “Thank you.”
“May I?” he asked, gesturing to the box.
I hesitated, suddenly aware of the intimacy of the moment, of the others watching us. But slowly, I nodded and turned around, lifting some strands of hair off my neck.
Blake stepped closer, his breath brushing against my skin. His fingers were warm and steady as he fastened the necklace around my throat. Even the brief touch of his skin against mine was enough to send a shiver down my spine. I closed my eyes for a moment.
“There,” he murmured.
I turned back to face him and his gaze held mine, the tension between us crackling.
“Perfect,” he said softly. “Black for Nyxaris. But you bring the fire. You make even the darkness shine. Even dragon fire can’t compete with the way you burn, Pendragon.”
“Ahem. Time is ticking.” Visha’s voice broke the moment, as she leaned against the doorway, a wicked grin on her face.
“Do you need a moment? Should we go on without you two?” Florence asked innocently.
“Not if we ever want to see them again,” Theo said jokingly.
I felt my face heat up. “No, we’re ready,” I said hastily.
“Actually, just one more thing.” Blake reached into his pocket and pulled out another small, black box. But this time, he handed it to Florence. “For you, Florence. You already look lovely. But if you wanted another accessory, I thought...”
Florence opened the box and gasped in delight. A small silver pendant in the shape of a fluffin sitting on a stack of books rested there.
“It’s beautiful. Thank you, Blake,” she said, with a happy smile. She flung her arms around his shoulders, surprising everyone–but Blake most of all, I thought. “I love it.”
Blake looked a little nervous, but he patted her awkwardly on the back and smiled. “Of course.”
I helped Florence fasten the pendant around her neck, suddenly feeling choked up.
As we left the room, I felt the press of the necklace resting against my collarbone. But I didn’t feel claimed or chained or possessed. Instead, its presence was reassuring, oddly grounding.
Blake walked at my side, his usual arrogant swagger tempered tonight. He was quieter, as if he were thinking about something. I wondered what it was, if we were both thinking the same thing.
Because for the first time in a long time, I was seeing possibilities spinning out before me that I’d never let myself consider before.
I’d hated Blake Drakharrow. Truly hated him. He’d been arrogant, cruel, and entirely too eager to exert power over me when he thought he could. That hadn’t disappeared entirely. I’d seen flashes of his petty, vindictive streak earlier that year. His need to dominate.
But tonight, he was here. Giving me gifts, being kind to my friend, trying to get to know me. I glanced up at him, his sharp profile outlined by the lanterns as we moved down the hall. There was a shyness to his expression that I’d never seen before, as though he was waiting for something, hoping for it, but too afraid to ask.
Before I could stop myself, I slipped my hand into his. The moment I made contact, he turned to look at me and his expression made my heart wrench. His gray eyes had gone wide, almost disbelieving, as if the world had shifted beneath his feet and he hadn’t quite caught up yet.
That look. It took my breath away.
At that moment, all I could think about was how close he was—and how much closer I wanted him to be.