Chapter 11 #5
“I don’t think you can be made a thrall, Pendragon.” He sounded weary and a bit frightened. “And I think if Viktor figured that out, he’d kill you.”
I stared at him. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, he doesn’t know that you don’t have Nyxaris anymore, does he?
That Florence is the one bound to him now.
But when he figures it out …” He shook his head.
“Viktor likes to believe he can control you. He’s been content to do that through me, in a way.
I’m supposed to, well, have you under my control. ”
I bristled.
“I don’t,” he said quickly. “Obviously. Never have. But the illusion of it … the illusion of it needs to be real to Viktor.”
“But once he finds out about Florence … ” I said in horror, as reality dawned.
Blake’s jaw tightened. “It’s only a matter of time before he does. You can’t protect her. You’ll have to trust Nyxaris to do it.”
“Blake,” I said slowly, “we’re always so focused on Viktor. But what do you think Marcus and Catherine are really trying to do? They have a fucking dragon. Them, not Viktor. We don’t even know where they are.”
Blake nodded grimly. “I know. I’ve thought about it, believe me. I’ll say this, though. Marcus hasn’t exactly been known for his genius. He’s a thick-skulled, dim-witted asshole who usually can’t see past what’s right in front of him.”
“A thickskulled dimwit who’s now bound to Lunaya Orphos,” I pointed out. “And who has Catherine Mortis in his corner some-how.” I thought of something. “Are they … a triad?”
Blake’s eyes widened. “I hope not. If they are, they’re a pretty messed-up one. They’re up to something bad, that’s obvious. But with all that’s going on right here, right now …”
I understood. I was suddenly obsessing over what was going to happen to Florence. And it was hard to worry about Marcus and Catherine when they’d flown off into the wide blue yonder.
“Maybe Molindra crashed into the sea and they all drowned.”
Blake snorted. “That would be too good to be true. For everyone but poor Lunaya, I mean,” he added hastily. “That girl …”
“That girl is fucked, Blake,” I said bluntly. “That’s what she is. I wish we could help her. But she’s on her own.”
He sighed. “You’re probably right.”
Abruptly, I leaned forward, putting my weight on my hands and sliding towards him. “I think it’s interesting that you care.”
He looked startled. It might also have had something to do with the fact that the blanket had slipped off me. “Care?”
“You care about what happens to Lunaya. You care about what happens to blightborn. You’re not the monster you claim to be.
” I kissed him softly, my breasts brushing against his chest. There was a need building in me again, a need only he could satisfy.
“You’ve stood up for what’s right. You faced a dragon’s wrath to save Florence. Give yourself a little credit.”
He looked at me, face still serious, even as his hands moved to grasp my hips. “And what about you, Pendragon?”
“Me?”
“You can’t tell me you’re not the hero of this story. The dragon rider who appeared from another world.”
I shifted a little, feeling awkward. “I dropped in, I didn’t exactly plan to visit. And I didn’t come here to save anyone.”
“No?” Blake’s voice was low. “But you have.”
“There are things in this world that are worth saving,” I said slowly. “But I’m not stupid enough to think I can save everyone. All I can do is try to help my friends.”
“You brought me hope. You’ve given me something to live for,” Blake said, softly tracing the lines of my shoulder blades.
I shivered, leaning into him, brushing my lips against his jaw. I didn’t want to talk anymore. I wanted to feel and to forget.
Blake’s arms came around me. He rolled us, guiding me onto my back as he lay over me.
His mouth moved over mine, claiming me briefly.
Then he moved it down my body. Trailing kisses over my throat, my breasts, my stomach, my hips …
then lower. I breathed out, letting him take his time.
Letting him make me forget the creeping darkness just outside the walls.
The danger that was always threatening, always just beyond our reach.
When we finally came together again, we moved with a desperate urgency. Our hearts were bare in those moments, at least. No lies. No fear. Just him and me.
When it was over, I watched his chest rising and falling. I tried to let myself believe that this could last. That this feeling, this sense of happiness, might be real.
Blake slept on, his breathing even, his hand loosely tangled with mine. My mother’s words came back to me. Are you so very different? Are you not angry? Are you not lost?
I was angry. Anger fueled me as it did Blake; we were similar in that way. I’d always be angry. But lost? Alone? It had been true once. Maybe it wasn’t anymore, not with Blake beside me. I smiled, shifting, turning my head toward him.
But something wasn’t right.
Blake was looking back at me. And yet … wasn’t. His good eye was closed, relaxed as he slept. But his other, the ruined one—the one Viktor must have ripped away and left empty—it was open.
And it wasn’t empty anymore.
It watched me unblinking. The globe wasn’t the gray it should have been. It was red. Red as blood.