Chapter 22
BLAKE
I bent over my desk and flicked at a page in the book with one hand while buttoning my waistcoat with the other.
The book was a fucking joke; I’d lost count of how many times I’d stared at the same page in The Dark Art of Eternal Bonds.
Because I now knew, after reading the damned thing from cover to cover at least three times, that there was only one spell in the entire tome that could possibly apply to my situation: The Spell of Twin Hearts.
I scanned the page, as if I hadn’t already memorized most of it.
In the furnace of one soul, bind name for name, flame for flame. If will should falter, ash devours ash.
My stomach lurched, also not for the first time.
At first, the words had held no meaning.
They were like a cryptic poem, one I’d had to read again and again.
But now I understood all too well what they meant.
The spell was meant to complete a merge with another dragon.
A second dragon caged behind my ribs when I couldn’t even leash the fucking first.
I rubbed my temples, barely resisting the urge to hurl the book across the room, then touched the piece of parchment I’d taken to using as a bookmark. It was a note from Rodriguez. He’d sent it in an envelope and had someone stick it under my door the morning after he’d given me the book.
Blake, the note read, I was a drunk idiot when I handed you that book.
Well, on that we could both agree.
The Twin Heart spell hasn’t been attempted in living memory.
Considering all of the dragons had been stone until a few months ago, that hardly needed to be said.
There is a chance it could grant you control. But chances are higher it would simply tear you apart.
I’d figured that out on my own, too—thanks, Rodriguez.
Forgive me for not being more helpful. I’m sorry.
It went without saying what he was sorry for. He was sorry that I had a clock counting down over my head, each day inching closer to my last. I snorted, pushing the piece of parchment aside, and reading the last line of the spell.
If heart-fire answers heart-fire, two may become one. Mastery forged anew.
Gods, that sounded good. Mastery. How I longed for that.
But two becoming one? I didn’t want to become one with anyone or anything else.
The oneness I felt with Pendragon when we were fucking was the closest thing to being one with another person I ever wanted to experience.
In fact, I felt weirdly guilty for even thinking of doing a spell that involved twin hearts.
As if it were cheating on her or something.
And yet, you don’t feel guilty for not telling her you can turn into a fucking dragon, a voice in my head reminded me.
I clenched my jaw: I knew I was in denial.
Hoping she’d never find out. That she’d never need to know.
She had enough on her plate, especially tonight.
I knew how worried she was about Florence and this engagement.
I pushed away from the desk and crossed over to the mirror.
Twin hearts. How did that even make sense when it felt like there were already two beings inside of me warring for dominance?
One mortal muscle, one invisible and scaled and furious.
But if Kage was right, we weren’t two—we were one and the same.Try telling that to the redeyed demon who was constantly trying to surface.
I looked in the mirror, smoothing my hair off my face.
I was an unlucky bastard in some ways, but a fucking lucky one in others.
The socket where Viktor had scooped my eye away was whole again—miracle of highblood regeneration.
I’d had an inkling something was happening, an itchiness that never went away, especially when I was trying to fall asleep at night.
And then one morning, I woke up and it was like a plant blooming overnight.
An iris was there, shimmering with the familiar slate-silver.
Until it didn’t. I blinked into the mirror, and the iris of my left eye flashed scarlet. The color pulsed like the heartbeat of the monster inside me.
“Not tonight,” I muttered. “I don’t fucking think so.
” I pinched the bridge of my nose tight, until I saw stars behind my eyes.
Go the fuck away. I looked back in the mirror.
My eyes were both gray again. For now. Still, I seemed to have some control over it.
In fact, these past few weeks, since I’d picked up the book from Rodriguez, things seemed to have plateaued, almost as if I were finally gaining some of that control Kage claimed I should have.
Or almost as if the red demon inside me knew I was thinking of doing a suicidal ritual that could kill us both.
I decided tonight I’d go with optimism. I hadn’t killed anyone in a few weeks. That had to count for something.
I tugged on the sleeves of the black jacket I wore, then pinned on my cuff links.
Small ruby red circles engraved with tiny dragons.
Ironic, yes. The linen shirt I wore was snow-white, cuffs stitched with crimson silk.
I glanced at the clock: half an hour. Half an hour until the Avari engagement ball would throw open the doors of Bloodwing’s Great Hall—the same vaulted refectory chamber the Frostfire ball had recently been held in. And look how well that had gone.
Apparently there had been a fight over whether or not the Avaris would be permitted to use the refectory for tonight’s festivities. Lady Avari had gotten the Board involved, and things had gone her way.
Viktor wouldn’t be in attendance tonight; he was at one of our Drakharrow estates in Veilmar—one of many.
One I never visited. Viktor had turned the entire city manor house into his own private den of blood, filled it with his several thralls.
Did Regan know? Surely she must by now. Viktor had always had a lascivious, greedy appetite, one which he’d managed to keep mostly hidden from his rivals.
But within our family, it was common knowledge that Viktor didn’t just use thralls.
He spent their lives like they were coins, drinking so much they never recovered fully or even draining them completely.
And he’d taught Marcus to feed in the same way.
Just one more reason why Theo and I hated them both so much.
And just one more reason why Viktor looked down on me for not following precisely in his footsteps.
I smirked at my reflection as I realized something: Tonight could be seen as a twisted victory, of sorts. One in which the Avari oneupped the Drakharrows, claiming Sangratha’s only dragon and a rider for their own.
I still had pride in my house, but if Kage becoming betrothed to Florence meant Viktor was left feeling furious and impotent, then I was all for it.
Poor, poor Viktor. He’d barely had time to try to sink his claws into Florence Shen.
And now, with this betrothal, hopefully he’d be forced to back off for good.
I let myself imagine, just for a moment, how sweet it would have been to raze Viktor’s throat with my dragon’s fangs the night of the Frostfire ball.
What if I’d been able to end it all right then and there?
But as usual, dear old Uncle Viktor had a card up his sleeve that I hadn’t seen coming.
One that I was bound and chained to keep a secret.
One that made him even more fucking dangerous than I’d ever imagined.
I’d wounded him badly. We’d reached a standstill.
Me with one eye missing, him looking even more fucking awful than usual.
I suppose it had been a shitty wedding present to give Regan, but she’d survived.
Still smirking, I picked up the bloodred cravat from the little table by the mirror and began to tie it. The door rattled with a knock. I checked my reflection: both eyes still gray. I exhaled. “Enter.” I already knew it wouldn’t be Pendragon; she was meeting me at the reception.
Theo slipped into my room first. I eyed his ensemble. He skirted the boundaries of House Drakharrow colors in dark gray tails and a silver waistcoat. I raised my eyebrows.
“I’m supporting the groom,” he informed me.
“Are you, now?” I shook my head. “Well, I doubt Viktor is coming tonight, anyhow.”
Behind him, Visha entered more slowly. She wore a strapless crimson satin gown that hit a few inches above her knee.
Gold bands in the shape of dragons swallowing their own tails wrapped around her upper arms. I whistled, but she ignored me, moving straight towards the fireplace, and sinking into a chair, wrapping her arms around herself.
“What’s the problem, Vaidya? Rodriguez turned down your invitation to be your date tonight?” I joked.
Theo looked at me nervously. He already knew about Visha’s little dalliance with our professor. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
“Why?” I lowered my voice. “Did they break up?”
“I don’t think you can break up when you aren’t technically together, but no. It’s family news. She got a letter this evening delivered by a special messenger. Straight from the Vaidya estate.”
The Vaidya estate bordered a small town a few hours outside of Veilmar. My smile vanished. “What happened?”
Theo glanced at Visha’s back, then beckoned me over so we were standing just inside my bathroom. “Her nephew, Arjun. He’s eleven. He … fell sick. At first, they thought it was just a fever. But then, he got worse. Got … strange.”
“Strange? What does that mean?”
Theo swallowed. “He went feral. Attacked his parents, hurt his little sister. Tried to feed from them. They restrained him, but he managed to break loose.”
My heart started pounding. This sounded painfully familiar. I knew this story; it didn’t have a happy ending. Sure enough …
“He ran into the village, attacked blightborn. A blightborn merchant wound up being forced to kill him in self-defense.”