Chapter 40
MEDRA
I pushed open the door to Blake’s room, Orcades’s last words still echoing in my mind, my body tense and trembling with a mix of emotions. It had been a very, very long night. I needed a moment to lie down, to compose myself. But as I stepped inside, the first thing I saw was a shadow. I stopped.
Blake sat on the windowsill, shirtless and barefoot, one leg dangling out over the side of the tower, the other drawn up so his fore-arm could rest on his knee.
His face was in profile as he looked out at the sunrise coming up over the far horizon.
A new day was dawning. In its light, Blake was more heart-achingly beautiful than ever before.
Only a pair of faded black trousers clung to his hips.
I stared at his body, at the black ink crawling over his torso: dragons.
Always dragons. Serpentine bodies coiling and crawling over his back and chest, like shackles of black iron.
For the first time, I saw them in a different light.
Not merely as stylized decorations but as a warning, a confession, and a sentence, all rolled into one—tethering him to some dark purpose.
In the burnished gold light of the dawn, his hair shone silver.
He reminded me of a statue. Carved from something cruel and lovely … and not quite mortal.
My heart began to thud. Because I knew when his gaze turned towards mine nothing would ever be the same.
I pushed the door carefully shut behind me, lifting the latch into place, then leaned back against the door.
“How’d you know I’d be here?” He spoke without turning.
My heart sped up. He’d known I was here, probably as soon as I’d stepped into the room.
“I didn’t. We thought you’d … flown away. I just needed somewhere to be. To sleep. I needed …” I looked over at the bed and swallowed. “I needed to feel close to you.”
He didn’t answer.
“What about you?” I said carefully. “Why are you here?”
“I thought this would be as good a place to do it as any. But then I thought, what if you looked out the window? What if you saw?” He shook his head slowly, still refusing to look at me.
“So I just sat here. It’s peaceful—not that I deserve any peace.
I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to find me like this. ”
“Do it?” I was horrified. “What do you mean, do it? Do you mean … jump?” I started towards the window.
Instantly he held out a hand. “Stop. Don’t come any closer to me. I mean it, Pendragon.”
A lump choked my throat. “You can’t be serious.”
“Serious as the grave.”
“Fuck you, Blake. Turn around and look at me when you say that. Look me in the eyes.” I watched him breathe in and out slowly. Then he turned his head. His face was stone. His gray-and-red eyes were cold. “Fine. If that’s what you want.”
“What I want?” I choked out. “I didn’t know any of this was about what I wanted.”
He lashed out. “You think I wanted this?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know anything. But you went to the Dragon Court, didn’t you? You did something with Vorago.”
“I fucked up,” he said flatly. “Like I always do.”
“Don’t do that.” I shook my head. “Don’t take the easy way out.”
“The easy way out?” His eyes flashed. “I’m trying to take responsibility. Pendragon, I killed children tonight. Like your father.”
A sob broke from my throat. “I know. I know that. But throwing yourself out a godsdamned window? That isn’t how you make things right.”
“No? What did your good old dad do? Tell me that.”
I didn’t want to tell him. Couldn’t. That story ended in death.
“I’m bad for you,” he continued. “Dangerous.”
I gave a bitter laugh. “You’ve always been bad for me. You’ve always been dangerous.”
“So why do you keep coming back?” he roared, half rising from the windowsill.
“Get out. Stay away from me. Save yourself. Because I can’t do it.
I know that now. I’ve tried. I’ve tried and I’ve tried, and now just look at me, Medra.
I’ve fucked up worse than ever before. Trying to do that.Trying to save you from myself. ”
The tears were running down my face freely now. “What do you mean?”
“There was a dragon in me. For months I’ve been hiding it. Last night …” He took a breath. “Last night it nearly fucking killed you. I almost killed you. I almost drained you dry.”
“So you gave me some of your own blood. To save me.” I took a step forward.
He snarled.
I stopped, closing my eyes briefly. “Well, it worked. Your blood did save me. More than once last night.”
For a moment, he looked surprised. “Small mercies.”
“You didn’t want this. I know you,” I said, my voice low.
He gave a mocking laugh. “You don’t know me, or you wouldn’t be standing there.”
I closed my eyes. My heart was tearing. My soul was tearing. “I have no choice.”
“You have a choice,” he said roughly. “There’s the door. Open it. Get out.”
“No. I can’t do that. And you know why.”
“No, I don’t. I don’t know why you’d choose to stand here after everything I’ve done—to you, to Veilmar. I’m a fucking murderer, Pendragon. My heart is black. My hands are stained with blood. Children’s blood,” he roared.
I trembled, but not from fear. “I’m not afraid of you.”
“Well, you fucking should be.” The words were almost a moan.
“You should be. Because I can’t control this.
” He paused.“Don’t you realize the only reason I’m even sitting here right now, talking to you like this is because Florence fucking shot me?
Not that I blame her.” He side-eyed me.“What did she shoot me with, anyhow?”
“Emberfern. House Drakharrow used to use it to control dragon riders.”
He tipped his head back and chuckled. “Dragon riders. How fucking appropriate.”
“But you’re more than a rider,” I said stubbornly. “That’s your body, Blake. Vorago’s the one hitching a ride. You need to take control back from him. Before—”
“Before it happens again? Before I go berserk again?” His face turned flinty. “I won’t let that happen. I’ll die first.”
“I won’t let you die.” I took another small step towards him.
“Not another step,” he warned. “Or I swear to you, I will slide off this sill. We’ll see if I grow wings on the way down or not.”
I froze. “Fine. I’m not moving.”
He nodded.
“But if you jump, what makes you think I won’t jump right after you?”
He looked at me, and I saw the fear in his eyes. Good. So he was still capable of feeling that.
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“Wouldn’t I?” I said, my voice dangerously quiet. “You think I’d stay here in this fucked-up world without you?”
“This isn’t some romantic play, Pendragon,” he snapped. “This is life and death.”
“I’m not the one threatening to off myself by jumping out a window,” I cried. “Don’t you dare do that to me, Blake. Don’t you dare. You look me in the face. You take a good look right now and see what you’re doing to me.” My whole body was shaking. “You’re breaking my heart.”
He swallowed. “It’ll heal. It has to.”
“We’ll heal together.”
“There’s no way back from this, Pendragon. You have to know that. No one will ever forgive me for what I’ve done. If I stay, I’ll be a shadow on your life. Staining your soul.”
“I don’t care,” I said stubbornly. “That is life. Shit happens. We have to deal with it. We have to try to atone. We can’t just run from it. You think I’m perfect? I’m not perfect, Blake. I’ve done horrible things, too. I’ve lost people I’ve loved because of my own stupidity.”
“Have you ever scorched an entire city? Swallowed living beings whole? Watched children running and known you couldn’t save them, couldn’t stop yourself from killing them?”
“No.” I was weeping. “But it wasn’t you who did that—it was Vorago. You wanted to stop him. I know you did.”
“I’m broken.” His voice was shaking. “I’m falling to pieces. I don’t know who I am. I don’t know what I’m doing. All I know is I need you to be safe. As for me, death is all I deserve. I should do it now, before Vorago can stop me.”
I moved. With whatever residual power of his blood left in me, with whatever fae power still filled me, I moved with highblood speed and rider reflexes, seizing him by the shoulders and yanking him down off the windowsill before he could even react.
He half sat, half lay on the floor, pushing himself up on his elbows. I lay there next to him, my hands flat against his chest. There was something infinitely powerful about the way our bodies touched. It went beyond words—and always had.
“You’re a part of me,” I whispered. “Don’t you know that?”
“Oh, Pendragon.” He sighed. Then he reached out a hand to brush my cheek. “We were always wrong together. Didn’t you try to tell me that, right from the start?”
“And you knew the truth. You always knew.”
“I … was wrong. I release you. I relinquish any claim to you. You’re free.”
“No,” I spat. “That’s not how this works. We’re bound, you and me. We don’t break that easily. This,” I said gesturing to him, then to myself, “this is forever. And you fucking know that.”
He stared at me. “I don’t know …”
“Then, let me tell you,” I snarled.“Let me tell you that I love you more than anything in this world or any other. I love you more than the sum of your sins. My heart chose you a long time ago. Maybe before I even got here.”The lump in my throat forced me to pause.
“You make me feel like I’m falling, like I’m tearing apart at the seams. But free?
I will never be free of you. I can’t be.
I choose to be chained to you. I choose to be claimed.
I would never choose to be free. Because this feeling is everything.You aren’t just in my heart—you are my heart.You are written in my blood. ”
“Love,” Blake whispered.
“Yes.” I touched his face, trying to press my forehead against his.
He pushed me away. “Love doesn’t begin to describe what I feel for you.” He shook his head, his voice rough. “It’s harsher. Darker. It’s consuming me. I told you to go because I knew if you took one more step, I might never be able to let you leave.”
My throat tightened.
“I should scare you. After what I did tonight. I scare myself. I don’t deserve you. I don’t deserve the word love from your lips.”
“You don’t get to choose for me.” The words slipped out. “You don’t get to decide if you deserve love. You are loved. Whether you like it or not.”
“I’m a monster,” he whispered. “I’m not worthy of you.”
“You’re not a monster. But if you are, then I am, too. Your blood flows through my veins. And …”
The door burst open. Vaughn stood there. “I heard you talking,” he mumbled, his face stricken. “I didn’t want to believe it.”
“Believe what?” I stood up quickly, planting myself between Blake and the door.
“That you might be in here. With him. Just talking, when …” Too late, I saw he was shaking with rage.
“When what?” I demanded. “We have to start somewhere.”
“When you know what he’s done, Medra. Talking?” Vaughn shook his head, looking disgusted.“This is beyond a talking matter.”
“He’s done terrible things, but he didn’t want to do them. You know that. You know what he is to me. Please, he’s Theo’s cousin.”
“I know,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.” Then he turned his head. “He’s here!” he yelled. “Come quickly! I’ve found him!”
“No!” I screamed, but the hall had already filled with pounding footsteps.
Professor Sankara appeared in the doorframe alongside Rodriguez. There were heavy chains in their hands.
I eyed them in horror. “What are you doing? This isn’t the way.”
“It’s the only way for now.” His face was stony, yet I had never heard his voice sound so gentle. To my shock, I saw there were tears in his eyes as he looked down at Blake. “I’m so sorry. But you know we have to do this. If Vorago takes control again, we have no idea what he’ll make you do.”
I turned. Blake slowly nodded. He pushed himself to his feet, then held out his hands. “Do it.”
They came into the room. The men with their chains, approaching slowly, while Vaughn stood off to one side, his eyes still clouded in grief and judgment.
But the moment Sankara began to cinch the first cuff, a rumble crawled out of Blake’s chest. His head snapped up, eyes flashing as he looked at me with a desperate expression.
“Get away from him,” I said, my voice sharp. “Can’t you see what’s happening?”
Rodriguez’s face was grim, but he didn’t back away, just picked up the other cuff and cracked it open. “Hurry,” I heard him whisper to Sankara.
Blake’s eyes locked with mine. “Run,” he whispered. “I can’t …” His jaw cracked with a roar. The half-fastened chain on his wrist snapped like string.
Sankara staggered back with a shout, yanking Rodriguez with him. Talons exploded from Blake’s fingers. He whirled, vaulting to the windowsill in one swift movement.
I lunged. “No!”
But it was too late. He plunged, body bursting into the dragon in midair, wings unfolding, vast and magnificent, igniting in a brilliant red under the light of the rising sun.
For a split second he hovered there, looking back at me. But Blake or Vorago? I didn’t know which.
Then he was gone.