Chapter 3
MEDRA
Viktor?” I repeated. My eyes narrowed. “Why do you look like that?”
Blake shrugged. “Like what?”
I frowned. Something had shifted in his expression.
I wasn’t imagining it. He hadn’t flinched, not exactly.
But something close. His lips had become a hard line.
His posture was wary, defensive. He hadn’t looked like that a moment ago.
Not when he’d been looking at me. He’d looked …
softer. Now his hand twitched. Almost, almost reaching toward the left side of his face.
His face. I bit my lip, trying not to show how much seeing it bothered me. Behind me, Theo and Vaughn had gone conveniently silent.
“Why do you look like that when you say his name?”
Blake stared down at me, his eyes stubborn. But he didn’t deny it.
My heart sped up. “Because you thought he was dead. Didn’t you?”
Blake’s lips tightened.
I was right. I knew I was right.“Why? Why would you think that?”
He held very still.
“Oh gods,” I whispered. I’d been a fool. I’d had days to put this together. Why had it taken me so long? “Viktor did that to you.”
Behind me, Theo made a strangled noise. But I couldn’t take my eyes off Blake.
I didn’t want to think about what that meant exactly.
He’d been hurt. That was all. Of course, I cared when someone was hurt.
Even the highblood bully who’d tormented me, betrayed me time and again, and tried to turn Nyxaris to stone?
I cleared my throat. “Tell me, Blake. What happened?”
Blake forced a smile that didn’t reach his good eye. “Look, we’re going to be late for the assembly. I think we’d better—”
“No. Don’t do that. Don’t you dare. Don’t deflect. Answer me, dammit.”
We stared at each other. His eye. His poor ruined eye.
His beautiful, wrecked face. The scars were already forming.
It will all heal, I reminded myself. He was a fucking vampire.
Of course it would. I tried not to question why my own hands were suddenly shaking.
Why it was becoming so hard to keep them pressed to my sides.
To resist reaching one hand out so I could run it over Blake’s scars.
Why? Why would I long to do something like that? What the hell was wrong with me?
Empathy. Absolutely ordinary empathy, I tried to tell myself. Completely normal.
Blake was hesitating.
“Blake.” I softened my voice. “Tell us.”
He looked at me, then his lips twisted in a bitter smile. “Fine. You’re right. More or less.”
White-hot rage flared through me. An anger that was as pure as it was terrifying.
For a moment, I forgot everything. Where I was.
Who I was with. My past with Blake. His betrayal.
My grief. All of it went out the nearest window.
All I could think about was him. Viktor.
The smug, sick, arrogant highblood who’d haunted the edges of my nightmares since I’d arrived in this place.
The man who’d manipulated me, manipulated Blake, used us both.
And now, what he’d done to Blake … The pain he’d caused …
I was moving forward when hands shot out, gripping me by the shoulders. “Let me go.” I struggled against them.
“No, Pendragon. Not until you tell me where you’re going.”
I looked up then, my eyes meeting his one good one. “I’m going to fucking kill him.”
If I thought I’d see happiness, I was wrong. Blake looked stricken. “No. You can’t.”
“Why not?” I countered.
“Because you can’t threaten Viktor and expect to walk away from that battle.”
“So what? You think I’m afraid? I’m not afraid of your gods-damned uncle, Blake.
This has been coming for a long time.” I could hear myself.
I sounded like a cocky, arrogant fool—and deep down, I knew it, too.
Who was I, anyhow? It wasn’t as if I still had a dragon.
But I didn’t want to know how wrong I was.
I wanted to keep this anger burning, feed it fuel.
It felt good. And it would feel even better when I hurt the man who had dared to do this to—
“No,” Blake interrupted my thoughts. “I know you’re not afraid. Though, by the Bloodmaiden, I wish you were.” He let go of my shoulders, took a deep breath, but kept his body positioned in front of me, blocking me.
I thought of darting around but knew from experience just how fast he could be when he wanted to.
“You’re not afraid, all right? I’m not saying that.” He sighed. “I’m the one afraid.”
“You?” I stared at him. “Why?”
“I’m afraid for you. Afraid for everyone I care about. Viktor …” His voice roughened. “Viktor has hurt every person he’s ever known I …” He stopped, and my heart slammed against my ribs. Blake’s jaw tightened. “He’ll use you against me. You won’t win. And deep down, you know I’m right.”
The world was tilting. Vaughn had started pulling Theo down the hall. Now they were calling to us. I could hardly hear them.
Blake gave a low laugh full of bitterness. “You want to know why I’m really afraid of Viktor? Because I know exactly how far he’ll go. I used to think I could handle it. I thought I could take whatever he threw at me and it wouldn’t matter. But …” He trailed off.
I didn’t say anything, already pretty sure I knew what he’d been going to say.
Blake cleared his throat. “I tried. I really did. I really fucking tried. But look at me, Pendragon. Take a good fucking look.”
“Blake …” I blinked. Determined not to let the water in the corner of my eyes show.
“He’d love to break you. Just to watch me fall apart. And I can’t—” He broke off, running his hands through his hair. “I can’t let that happen. I know you don’t owe me anything. But please, just …”
There was total silence for a moment.
“Fine,” I said finally. “Let’s go to the assembly.”
He gave a hoarse laugh. “Right. The assembly. Nothing like an outdoor assembly in the middle of winter.”
We started walking fast enough so that we could see Theo and Vaughn in the distance. Not quite fast enough to completely catch up. The space between Blake and me pulsed and throbbed like a beating heart.
“I’ll bring him down, don’t worry,” Blake said quietly as we walked. “There’s nothing I want more.” I felt him sneak a glance at me. “So you feel better now? After punching me in the face?” He tried to put some levity in the words.
“Can’t deny it was satisfying. Would have been better if you’d bled.”
He smirked. “My nose has been broken more than once, as you can probably tell. Guess you just didn’t hit hard enough.”
Scowling, I made a move like I was going to hit him again, and he laughed and dodged.
“Anyhow, we Drakharrows are made of hardy stuff. For better or for worse.” He was quiet for a moment. Then, “But I’m glad. Glad it felt good. I meant what I said. I deserved it.”
Ahead of us, Theo and Vaughn had reached the huge double doors leading to the courtyard outside the school.
Light streamed in. I could see a huge crowd of students already gathered.
Blake and I stood on the threshold. Something between us had shifted.
Some thread, broken and frayed, had been picked up again.
I didn’t know if we were starting over. But I did know he didn’t want to be my enemy.
And gods knew, I couldn’t afford to keep pushing people away. Not when I’d lost Nyxaris. Not when I’d already lost Florence.
We walked out into the courtyard, side by side, separate but together.
There was still so much unsaid between us.
So much that had been damaged. But when I glanced up at Blake—at the scars, the ruined eye, the jagged flesh, at everything that might have repulsed someone else—I didn’t feel repelled.
Not even a little. His face was somehow more beautiful, more haunted.
Certainly more dangerous. And a lot more …
well, real. It made me want to touch him.
To remind myself I could. That if I wanted him to be, he was …
Well. I wouldn’t say the word. I’d said it to Nyxaris.
Gods, I’d practically shouted it in the Dragon Court that night, in front of an audience.
But I wouldn’t, couldn’t, say it to myself.
As we stepped out into the pale winter daylight, the first thing I saw was Headmaster Kim’s head on a spike.
I stopped short, my breath catching in my throat. Blake’s hand was on my arm instantly, pulling me forward in a way that was so subtly done most people probably didn’t realize I was being pulled at all. I followed, half a second behind his stride, eyes still fixated on the decaying head.
It was mounted on a tall, black iron stake, right in the center of the snow-covered courtyard. Kim’s skin had turned a grayish blue. His mouth was slack. One eyelid had frozen shut. He looked as if he had been … surprised.
Students gathered all over the courtyard, forming hushed, un-easy clusters.
A few were gawking at the head. Most were ignoring it.
A couple of students were crying. Kim hadn’t exactly been a warm, beloved figure, but he’d represented something at Bloodwing: continuity.
He was a steady, reliable presence. He stood between us students and the rest of the highblood elites, between blightborn and the rest of Sangratha.
We’d never been exactly safe within the academy’s walls.
Naveen’s death was proof of that. But we’d been lulled into a feeling of semisecurity, of being somewhat valued, thanks in part to Headmaster Kim.
Now, in an instant, that had been shattered.
“How very kind of you to join us, Miss Pendragon. Mr. Drak-harrow.”
The voice came from above. Cool, composed. Laced with a familiar sweet malice. Regan.