Chapter 1
MEDRA
I was flying.
Well, not quite. I was bouncing. Held in some sort of a sling contraption, I swayed with every heavy step my caregiver took. I flailed my arms—pudgy, uncoordinated, utterly enthusiastic, while my legs kicked just as eagerly at the open air. I heard squealing. Loud. Joyful.
It took me a moment to realize the sound was coming from me.
“Easy now, little cub.” The voice was a warm rumble, familiar and comforting. “You don’t have to get quite so excited each time you see me.”
“I don’t think she’s gotten quite as used to talking bears as Morgan and I have.
” The voice was rich and deep and came from somewhere behind me.
A man’s voice. The man holding me. A strong hand came up, checking the straps of the contraption.
Some sort of a baby carrier. I grasped for the hand, squeaking and squirming.
Everything shook as the man holding me laughed.
He let me raise his fingers to my face. They smelled warm and earthy. Like pine and sandalwood. Safe.
I couldn’t turn to see him. But warmth radiated from him like sunlight. I knew who held me. I could feel him, sense him. He was love. My uncle. My protector. Draven.
“Wrigglier than a fox in a henhouse,” the great booming voice intoned again.
I looked up in delight as a huge brown bear peered down at me, then leaned in to nuzzle their cool, wet nose against mine as I gurgled and gasped in delight.
A warm summer wind crossed the glade, and I closed my eyes.
When I opened them, something silver caught my eye.
Hair like shimmering moonlight flowed down her back. My aunt, Morgan.
She was dressed like royalty, in a rich scarlet gown trimmed with gold. She stood tall, head bent in conversation with a young knight. The halffae woman could have been no more than twenty-five, and yet her expression was thoughtful, her smile warm and wise.
There was something sharp about the young knight, something edged like a blade.
Unlike my aunt, she was mortal. She wore her steel armor as if it were a second skin.
Her blond hair was cropped short, with just a slight curl over her ears.
She was intimidating. Fierce. Violence obviously became her.
But when she looked across the glade at me, there was nothing hard in her expression. I saw only warmth and fondness.
The two women slowly approached me, their faces soft in different ways—both ways I loved. Then Morgan bent forward. I closed my eyes as she kissed my forehead with lips so soft.
“Our little Medra,” she murmured. “Oh, how precious …”
And then it was all gone.
My heart lurched. I woke up, coated in sweat, my heart hammering.
The dream was scattered like ash in the wind.
My sheets were damp. My breath fogged the air.
I sat up, the ache in my heart still sharp and all too real.
The room was quiet. I turned towards the other bed, Florence’s name on the tip of my tongue, everything in me calling for comfort and consolation.
The bed was empty. Another pain stabbed through my chest. I’d forgotten.
Florence was gone, too.
The morning dawned cold and gray. It was still snowing.
I hadn’t slept well, not after that dream.
I was used to intrusive thoughts—hell, Orcades had been nothing but.
Still, the dream had been something different entirely.
A reminder of my past life. Of who I really was.
Of the family I’d lost. The last time they’d seen me, I’d been that baby.
Giggling and gurgly. Would they even recognize me now?
And what would they think of me if they did?
What would they think of who I’d become, of what I’d done?
My aunt, Morgan le Fay. My uncle, Draven Venator. Hawl, the Bearkin warrior with a heart of gold. And Lancelet, my aunt’s dearest friend and faithful knight of Camelot.
They were legends in my mind, not real people.
A world where fae and mortals and other fantastical creatures coexisted?
From where I stood, with both feet fixed solidly on Sangratha’s blood-soaked soil, it all sounded like nothing more than fiction.
I’d idealized them since I’d arrived in this place.
It had been easy to do, considering how long it had been since I’d seen any of them in the flesh.
What would they think of me? Maybe that was the wrong question.
What would they think of the people I was surrounded by?
The highbloods. The vampires. Blake.
I tried to ignore the throb of questions in my head as I quickly got dressed.
Today was the first real day of classes after Frostfire.
The mid-winter break had been unexpectedly extended.
We’d all been restricted to our respective house towers since the events of a few nights ago.
Since I was in House Avari, that meant I hadn’t really had a chance to see, well, anyone but Kage.
And we weren’t exactly on speaking terms at the moment.
I’d mostly stayed in my room, alone. But sometimes, when I came down to snatch a tray of food, I’d hear rumors swirling in the common room. Scattered bits and pieces of what had happened that night, most of them wildly off base.
I’d caught more than a few looks from Avari students. I knew everyone wanted to ask me what had really gone down that night … but no one dared. Maybe Kage had warned them off. Or maybe it was just the look on my face that told them it was better not to risk it.
Of course, I wasn’t the only one who had been through a lot.
Trying to tally up the losses from that night was still enough to leave me reeling.
Visha had lost her girlfriend Lace Ironstride, a sweet yet tough dwarven girl I’d just begun to get to know, but who I’d truly liked. She’d been one of Professor Stonefist’s star pupils, too. I wondered if Stonefist had been told Lace was dead.
Blake had lost Aenia, but not until after she’d brutally murdered Lace. The death of a child should have been horrible. We all should have been in mourning. And yet, what I mourned was the loss of Aenia the child. Because the Aenia who’d died had been a monster.
Back in the Dragon Court that night, Theo had briefly told me what had happened. How he’d been forced to stab his youngest cousin, while shielding Florence from Aenia’s blood lust.
Poor Theo. In some ways, he’d always been the most innocent of us all. Now he’d lost some of that, lost a piece of his own blooddamned heart. I wondered if he’d even been able to see his boyfriend, Vaughn, yet and talk to him about everything that had gone down.
Meanwhile, Lysander had lost his younger sister, Lunaya. Not to death—but to something even more malevolent. Did the House Orphos leader even know the full story yet? Had anyone bothered to tell him exactly what had happened? Had Blake or Kage?
Lunaya had been blood-bound to Marcus Drakharrow. From what I’d seen, she was basically in servitude to him and Catherine Mortis. She’d gotten onboard that terrifying, corrupt dragon and ridden off into the sunset—taking my mother’s soul along with her.
Right. As if things weren’t fucked-up enough already. Orcades had gone from being dead, to being in my head, to being in a fucking enchanted knife, to now being inside of a godsdamned dragon. Molindra, that was the dragon’s name.
I wasn’t crossing my fingers that my mother had survived the transition.
Even if she’d managed to survive, our connection seemed to have been broken when Molindra flew away.
I might never see her again. I wondered if there was any way to tell if Orcades was still alive.
A spell, a ritual, a bit of light blood magic.
Anything. Of course, there was one person who might have had an answer to that.
But there was no chance in hell I was setting foot in his bloody office ever again.
Thinking of Professor Rodriguez raised the pace of my heart-beat immediately. I slammed the door of my wardrobe shut with a little more force than I’d meant to, tugged on the hip-length black sweater I’d pulled out, and headed for the door.
Today was going to be such a shit show.
Theo leaned over the breakfast table, making sure to keep his voice low. I’d lost track of how many times I’d glanced towards the refectory entrance. Breakfast was more than half-over. We’d be heading to class in a few minutes. Obviously, Visha wasn’t coming. And, apparently, neither was Blake.
I glanced back at Theo. Who was now standing up and making his way around the table to my side. He slid onto the bench beside me. I raised my eyebrows. “Changing seats?”
He shrugged. “I decided this was too important to risk sharing.” He leaned his head as close to mine as he could without us kissing, and I tried not to snicker.
He’d been reserved so far this morning. But at least he was there.
He was eating. He was talking. He wasn’t rocking back and forth sobbing or hiding in his room.
Or, worse, furious with me. That was more than I’d hoped for, honestly.
It was more than we’d gotten from Visha so far.
“What?” Theo questioned, seeing my smile.
I shook my head. “Nothing. It’s just … really good to see you, Theo.”
“Oh.” He looked taken aback. “It’s good to see you, too, Medra.” He glanced around one more time, then lowered his voice to less than a whisper. “So I’m not hallucinating again, right? Tanaka can turn into a fucking wolf?”
“Again?”
He ran his hands through his hair, looking sheepish. “I mean, yeah, it’s been known to happen. After imbibing … certain substances.”
I rolled my eyes. “Right. Of course it has. Well, you’re not hallucinating this time, Theo. It happened.”
“Did you know that? Before, I mean. That he could … you know, do that?”
I met his eyes. “I’d actually expected you to tell me it was no surprise.”
Theo’s eyes widened. “What? Me?”