Текст книги "On wings of blood"

Автор книги: Briar Boleyn

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CHAPTER 50 – BLAKE

I sat in the stone bleachers of the arena, my body tense, eyes locked on the massive projection veil that hovered over the pit.

Beside me, Theo was fidgeting restlessly.

I resisted the urge to join him.

Here we were, safe in the stands. While somewhere out there, the woman tethered to me by blood and by fate would soon be walking headfirst into unknown dangers.

I hadn’t been able to stop replaying our meeting from two nights ago in my head. The image of her standing in front of me, tossing back the vial of my blood. Maybe it was weak of me, but part of me was regretting not telling her the whole truth.

But there was no point in thinking about it now.

The Consort Games were about to begin. I’d done what I could for her. Now I just had to hope it would be enough.

The Games were not supposed to be impossible to win. For most highblood consorts, they were a test of strategy, of the consorts’ ability to work together and to survive. Nothing more.

But Pendragon was going into them with a target painted on her back.

My jaw clenched, my gaze going back to the enormous semi-translucent veil projected overhead where the area’s enchantment would soon begin to reveal the consorts’ journeys.

Other teams would be working together, pooling their strengths. Pendragon would have to rely on her instincts–and on my blood coursing through her veins.

“Regan’s been sharpening her knives for weeks now,” Theo muttered beside me. “Think she has a chance?”

I knew he didn’t mean Regan. He hated the woman. We both knew she was about to openly defy me. Despite the humiliation that would bring, on the one hand, Regan’s defiance would play into exactly what I wanted.

On the other hand, Pendragon had a lot to lose.

I clenched my hands into fists on my knees.

The consorts would have been taken from their beds in the dead of night, drugged, and brought to a special dormitory reserved for the sole purpose of the games, located on a small island not far from Bloodwing.

Right about now, they’d be waking up. Professor Wispwood would be casting an enchantment over each one. The spell would allow everyone in the arena to see what the consorts experienced, permitting us to become spectators.

The island wasn’t designed to kill. But accidents always happened. Every year, a few consorts died. Either from sheer stupidity or bad luck.

I hadn’t answered Theo’s question. I didn’t want to admit just how worried I was. But I suspected he could sense it.

Around us, the usual crowd of highbloods and blightborn were taking their seats. I saw a number of faculty members sharing a row together. There was Rodriguez, the bastard, looking completely unconcerned as he sat down next to Professor Sankara. I knew he wanted Pendragon to get through this as badly as I did, and yet when I’d practically begged him to help me give her some kind of an advantage he’d claimed he’d already done what he could.

Some of the highbloods in the arena were consorts in their second or third year, or beyond. They’d already passed the Games. Now they were settling in to watch this one as entertainment. They had nothing to worry about. They could sit beside their co-consorts and their archons, knowing their places were secure.

Who would I be sitting beside when this was all over?

A figure striding down the rows of stone caught my attention. Vaughn Sabino. He looked as if he’d recovered well from the injuries Coregon had dealt him. I’d made some inquiries. I knew he still had a chance of making it as a scout.

Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw Theo notice Vaughn. His whole body stiffened. He shifted away from the aisle uncomfortably as Vaughn passed.

Something in my gut twisted. I knew Theo had liked Vaughn. Before everything had gone to hell.

“Have you seen Sabino lately?” I risked asking.

Theo’s eyes shot towards mine, giving me a black look that could have melted stone. “Why? You going to report me to dear Uncle Viktor?”

I frowned. “Theo, I didn’t... Is that really what you think?”

“Don’t bother,” he snapped. “I doubt Vaughn ever wants to talk to me again after what he went through. Wasn’t that the entire fucking point?”

“I didn’t tell Coregon to do what he did,” I said, lowering my voice.

“The Prince of the Blessed Blood doth protest too much. But, sure. Whatever you say, old boy,” Theo said tightly. I wasn’t sure he believed me but I was also getting sick of denying his accusations. “I was supposed to learn my lesson, right? Like a good little boy. Stay away from the bad blightborn boy forever. Or was it all males in general?” His lips twisted cruelly, distorting his normally easygoing features in a way I hated to see. “Don’t worry. You and Coregon made sure of that.”

Guilt hit me square in the chest. I hadn’t known what Coregon was going to do. But I sure hadn’t warned Theo about any of it when I’d had the chance. Viktor had made it clear that Theo’s dalliances with other males were not going to be tolerated within our house.

“I suppose I should just be grateful Coregon didn’t punish me, too. Is that it?” Theo said, half-snarling, half-hissing the words. “Should I be grateful, Blake?”

“He wouldn’t have fucking dared,” I said automatically.

“So you’d protect me, is that it? But not someone like Vaughn?”

“I had no idea what was going to happen to Sabino. I swear,” I growled. “Coregon stepped out of line. He’s gone now, isn’t he? But if you expect me to protect every man you get a crush on...”

I was being cruel. Cruel and unfair. And I knew it.

I saw Theo flinch.

“Don't worry,” he said coolly. “Do you really think I’d risk stealing some happiness for myself if it could result in another person's disfigurement, dismemberment, or decapitation? I’m not that shallow. No, I’ll just follow your example and be fucking miserable doing whatever Uncle Viktor tells us to do. Isn’t that your great plan?”

“I didn’t ask for any of this,” I said, my voice low. “I fucking hate this.” But I didn’t dare to say more. Afraid I might give away some truths with my lies.

Theo looked away, his jaw tight. “Just leave it, Blake. It’s done.” His voice sounded tired. He slouched back on the bench.

I tried to settle back into my seat, but my mind was churning with thoughts of Pendragon and now Theo. A light touch on my shoulder pulled me from my thoughts.

“House Leader?”

I looked up to see Lucian Aleron standing over me. Visha Vaidya's archon wore a sleek black tunic embroidered with red thread, its billowing sleeves cuffed just below his wrists. His long, pale blond hair was tied in a tail at the nape of his neck with a black ribbon. Silver rings glittered on his slender fingers.

Lucian was polished, I’d give him that. But there was something pompous about him that had always grated on my nerves. He liked to play the role of archon to perfection. Lucian wasn’t a fool, but he lacked Visha’s steel.

Lucian’s other consort, Evander Sylvain, was out there on the island with Visha right now. Lithe and tall, he had delicate features that gave him an androgynous look. Lacking Visha’s fierceness and Lucian’s ingratiating ambition, Evander was softer, more introspective, lacking the typical highblood ruthlessness. The best quality he brought to his triad was loyalty–to Lucian, to Visha, and to House Drakharrow–and thus, by extension, to me.

The irony of it all wasn’t lost on me. Lucian and Evander were generally believed to be a love match. Lucian’s father had approved the union, with the condition that Visha be added in to strengthen the pair.

In contrast, there was no way in hell Theo would be permitted to select male consorts.

But our uncle’s prejudices remained mostly hidden from other highbloods for now, even within House Drakharrow. The key words being “for now.” I had no doubt he’d try to extend his reach as soon as he dared.

I thought of Visha and the task I’d assigned her. I trusted her to be ruthless, to do what was needed. Lucian and Evander lacked her fire. Eventually, Visha would control both of them easily, whether she was their official archon or not.

I looked back at Lucian, wondering what had brought him here.

He smiled at me, but there was a hint of unease in his eyes. “I thought you’d want to know. Before the consorts were taken, Regan Pansera formally requested that the Crown of Bone be used on Medra Pendragon before the Games began.”

My blood began to boil. I started to spring up from my seat. Theo’s hand held me down.

“Steady, cuz,” he warned. “Don’t make a scene.”

He knew what this meant. So did Lucian.

But Lucian didn’t need to see how much the idea of Pendragon being under threat bothered me. Let him think I was simply furious at Regan’s defiance.

Still, I couldn’t hold back a growl. “How did this happen?” I demanded.

Lucian took a cautious step back. “She’s of dragon rider blood and a blightborn no less. Regan’s argument was compelling–and valid as far as I could tell.” He dropped his voice. “I happened to be near the Headmaster’s office.”

He’d eavesdropped in other words. But I didn’t care how he’d found out.

“Thank you for informing me,” I said stiffly. “Good luck to you and your consorts in the games.”

He nodded. “The same to you, Drakharrow. Just thought you’d want to know.”

My jaw clenched but I forced myself to sit on the bench and feign calm.

I glanced at Theo. I knew he liked Pendragon. We both knew what the Crown of Bone meant for her.

Crafted from ancient dragon bones, the crown was rarely used and usually had to be requested by a consort’s archon. It was an artifact reserved for testing the loyalty of consorts who were chosen from blightborn bloodlines.

The crown could peer into a blightborn’s mind, forcing them to confront their deepest loyalties and fears. It would make them select someone from their lives–someone they cared about. Only a blightborn would be chosen, of course. The consort wouldn’t even realize what they’d done. The decision would be unconscious and by the time they figured out what had happened, it would be too late.

I ran a hand over my face, as if trying to wipe away the worry I felt. No one could see, no one could know how much this was all getting to me.

The crown might destroy Pendragon. And Regan, that venomous bitch, had known exactly what she was doing when she’d requested it be used.

But there was absolutely no way I could stop it now.

Approximately six hours from now and this would all be over. I was betting on Pendragon being a survivor. What didn’t kill her would make her stronger. Right?

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CHAPTER 51 – MEDRA

My eyes fluttered open, my head pounding with a dull ache. I lay on a hard cot in a shadowy stone cavern. Slowly, I propped myself up on my elbows. Around me were rows of other cots. All of them were empty.

My heart sped up. Had they started the Games already? Had I missed them?

Before I could move, I felt something being lifted from my head. I looked up and saw Professor Wispwood standing over me. The blonde, halfborn professor looked down at me with sympathy in her eyes, then murmured, “Good luck.”

She walked across the room carrying something in her hands and placed it in a wooden box. A white circlet. Why had it been on my head?

The last thing I remembered was falling asleep in my own bed.

No, the last thing I remembered was dreaming. I’d been dreaming of Florence and Naveen. We’d been talking and laughing together in the Common Room. It’d felt so real.

I sat up groggily, then groaned. The cloth. I remembered the sickeningly sweet scent of it pressed to my mouth and nose. I'd been drugged. Had I been affected worse than the other consorts? Was that why everyone else was gone?

I glanced down at myself. I was in my underthings. There was a small table beside the cot. On it sat a neatly folded pile of clothes. A plain tunic and trousers of a dark, sturdy material sat beneath a leather vest, lined with pockets. On the floor next to the cot was a pair of familiar leather boots.

I pulled on the clothes, unable to shake the sense of panic. Everyone else was gone. They had a head start.

It was stupid but I supposed some part of me had held out the faint hope that Regan might have changed her mind.

But no, here I was–all alone.

I started to pull on my boots. My fingers brushed against something cold. Coregon's dagger.

Stay calm, Orcades voice rang in my head. Don’t draw attention. Professor Wispwood was still organizing instruments on the far side of the room. Get up. You need to get moving.

I pulled on the boots the rest of the way, carefully keeping the knife tucked alongside my right calf. I’d been hoping to bring the dagger in with me. That had been my plan all along. But I hadn’t exactly been given a chance to pack.

Had the other consorts been given weapons? Or only me?

The soul-imbued dagger gave me a slight advantage. But considering I’d been left here alone and was the last one out, it might not be enough of one.

I walked out of the cavern and into the light. It looked to be about mid-morning. I raised a hand to my eyes, squinting. The daylight was almost blinding after the darkness of the underground dorm. My legs felt wobbly, as if they belonged to someone else. What the fuck had they given me? Whatever it was, I hoped Regan had gotten it, too.

My boots sank slightly into the damp earth as I scanned my surroundings. The air was thick with a humid heat. A stark contrast to the cool spring we were experiencing back at Bloodwing. This was another world altogether. I stood on the edge of an island–lush, almost jungle-like, with towering trees draped in vines that created a dense canopy overhead.

The foliage around me was rich with the smell of wet bark, damp moss, and flowers.

I walked forward through the trees and reached a dead end. A gorge lay in front of me, separating the underground dormitory from the main part of the island. Below, a thin mist rose up from the depths of the gorge.

My stomach dropped as I spotted the only way across. A stone platform, barely wide enough for two people, jutted up out of the mist, perched on top of a high stone pillar.

But there was only one. It was close to me. I could jump onto it if I tried. But leaping onto it would only get me part way across the gorge.

I moved towards the cliff’s edge and caught sight of two figures standing on the other side.

Visha Vaidya looked back at me, her hands on her hips. The last time we’d crossed paths the girl had tried to beat me to a pulp.

Behind her stood a tall, slender boy with silver hair. He looked less than pleased. They’d clearly been arguing. Visha seemed to have won the debate.

Evander, I thought, remembering the male consort’s name. Florence had been telling me about some of the recently formed triads. Visha had been paired with an arrogant, sulky-looking highblood named Lucian and another consort named Evander.

“Pendragon!” Visha called across the gap. “Wait. You’ll never make it across alone.”

I ignored her and stepped to the edge of the cliff, gauging the space between the cliff and the platform.

I jumped.

I wobbled as I landed, flinging my arms out to steady myself. Damn that drug they’d given me. There was no way the other consorts were suffering these after effects, considering I was the last one here.

I stood on the platform, waiting for something to happen, but nothing did. I’d expected the next platform to rise, providing me with a way across. Shit.

“You need a partner to get across,” Visha called, sounding annoyingly smug. “It won't work otherwise.”

She stepped towards the edge of the cliff, her violet eyes gleaming. “Did Professor Wispwood mention you're being timed? The platforms will all disappear in a few minutes. Including the one you're standing on. You’re the last one to emerge.”

“Thanks for the helpful information,” I called back, sarcastically. “And you’re both doing what? Just waiting on the other side to watch me fail?”

To my surprise, she shook her head. “I'm going to help you across. I need you to promise not to attack me when I come towards you.”

My heart pounded. “Why the hell would you do that?” I shook my head stubbornly. “I’m not an idiot. There's no way I’m trusting you.”

Visha moved a little closer to the edge. “You have no choice. The clock’s ticking. You're the last one. And maybe you’ve failed to notice this but Regan is long gone.”

“Why would you help me?” I demanded. “You hate me. You tried to kill me.”

“Kill you?” Visha rolled her eyes. “So melodramatic, you blightborns. If I’d wanted to kill you, you’d be dead. I was testing you.” She shrugged. “So I got a little carried away.”

“Regan sent you after me,” I accused. “Why the hell would I trust you now?”

Visha smirked. “Regan wasn’t the one who sent me to fight you that day. Though, of course, she was thrilled that I did.”

I stared at her. “Then who did?”

“I’m sure you can figure it out on your own.”

I felt a lump in my throat, but savagely pushed it down. “Blake.”

She nodded. “Turned out you weren’t as weak as we thought. Way to prove me wrong. Now are you going to just stand there or are you going to let me help you across?”

“I don't understand,” I said. “Blake sent you after me then. But now he’s what? Told you to help me survive this?”

“That basically sums it up.” Visha nudged her fellow consort. “Right, Evander?”

Evander frowned but said nothing.

“Evander isn’t thrilled with any of this, so if you could decide what the hell you’re doing soon, that would be great,” Visha explained. “We need to get going.”

“Why would Blake want you to help me now?” I demanded.

Visha threw up her hands. “Look, you and Blake can figure all of this out and talk about it once you’ve survived the Games. Sound good? It’s none of my business. He’s the House Leader. I’m just doing what I’m told.”

She leaned forward slightly and to my surprise, a pillar began to rise up out of the mist, just a few feet in front of her.

“There,” she said with satisfaction. “Thought so.”

She jumped onto the first pillar, then leaned forward again and the next one rose.

“If you’ve already crossed once with your consort,” she explained, slightly out of breath as she leaped to the next platform, drawing nearer and nearer to me. “Then the platforms will let you go backwards. But you can’t go forward the first time alone.”

She jumped to a pillar as it rose across from the one I was standing on. One more to go.

I spread my legs a little more, willing myself to keep my balance. I still felt woozy. I tried not to look down at the rolling sea of mist below us.

Visha glanced over at me. “So, what’s your decision? You going to fuck this up and get us both killed or you going to catch me?”

She didn’t wait for me to respond. She jumped.

I clutched her shoulders to brace her as she landed and she gasped.

I shook my head. Despite our history, I had to admire her tenacity. Visha was tough as nails. Behind her, the platform she had just been standing on was descending once more.

Visha was shaking her head. “You don’t look so great, Pendragon. What the hell did you do to yourself?”

I pushed my hair off my face. “I must have been drugged. We all were, weren’t we?”

“Some of us more than others from the look of it.” She eyed me up and down, then shook her head. “That fucking bitch Regan. She must have paid someone off. No wonder it took you so long to come out. Evander wanted us to move on and in another minute we would have.”

I glanced across at where the tall pale young man stood. I didn’t really blame him. He just wanted to survive.

“What you’re doing right now–helping me. Isn’t that cheating? Won’t you both get into trouble?”

“Funny, now that’s what Evander said,” Visha replied. “You worried about us, Pendragon? How sweet. So you’d rather I didn’t cheat to save your life?” She shrugged. “I mean, it’s a little late now. Shall we get moving?”

I gripped her hand and together we leaned forward. The next platform rose up.

We jumped for it.

“Steady,” Visha shouted as I lurched forward abruptly, dizziness clouding my vision. “Get it together, Pendragon.” She swore under her breath, but didn’t let go of me.

“I’m sorry,” I gasped as I staggered upright.

She swore again, muttering something about Regan, then glanced across the gorge at where Evander was watching us. He’d started pacing, his hands shoved into the pockets of his trousers.

“You’d better get ready to catch her,” she shouted across the gap. “You hear me, Evander?”

The pale blond-haired boy nodded tersely and stepped a little closer to the edge of the cliff.

“We’re running out of time,” Visha said tightly. “Let’s go.”

She yanked me forward and I took the next jump with her, stumbling only slightly.

We slammed onto the next platform. I fell to my knees.

“Are you going to let her get away with this?” Visha asked, looking down at me and shaking her head.

“Who? Regan?” I said breathlessly. “What choice do I have?”

“Blake must be so pissed,” she muttered. She grabbed my hand. “Get ready. Last one.”

We leaned forward together and the next platform rose up in front of us.

I focused hard, trying to clear the fog from my head.

We jumped onto the final platform. Evander leaned forward, his hands extended.

“Come on,” he said gruffly, nodding to me. “Take my hand.”

I grabbed onto him gratefully and Visha and I stepped across the crevice onto solid ground.

Behind us the pillars remained in their ascended position for a few moments longer. Then they began to shake and rumble. Within a few seconds, they had crumbled into the gorge below.

I sank down onto the damp earth, taking deep breaths.

“Well, that’s that,” Visha said, looking down at the gorge.

“So cheating is allowed? Or tolerated?” I glanced at her and Evander. They both seemed fine. Not shaky on their feet. I knew the effects of whatever drug I’d been given would eventually wear off. But if Visha hadn’t been there, I would have been screwed. What had Professor Wispwood thought? Had she tried to wake me to no avail? Then I had an awful thought. What if she’d been the one who’d administered it? Could faculty do that?  “You won’t be punished for helping me?”

Visha and Evander exchanged a look.

Visha shrugged. “Probably not. I doubt it. If Regan can get away with all of her bullshit, I doubt they can punish us for ours.”

“What would have happened to me if you hadn’t helped me? If I hadn’t been able to make it across on my own?”

“You probably don’t want to know,” Visha said smoothly. “Blake would have been furious though.”

In other words, I’d have died. Would Professor Wispwood have done it? Or someone else? For all I knew, Bloodwing had a special executioner on staff.

And if I’d died, Blake would have been unhappy. Because he actually cared about me? Or because it would have been a blow to his precious reputation?

“Not to mention his uncle,” Evander muttered. I wondered if that was how Visha had gotten him to comply. If he was more worried about Viktor Drakharrow than about Blake.

“All right,” I said, taking a breath. “I guess I’m on my own from here.” I thought of something else. “That white circlet that Professor Wispwood took off my head when I woke up. What was it?”

Visha’s eyes widened slightly and she exchanged another look with Evander.

She cleared her throat. “I wouldn’t worry about that right now.”

I narrowed my eyes. “What was it, Visha?”

She sighed. “I didn’t see it. But if it’s what I think it is, then it’s called the Crown of Bone.”

“Bone? What kind of bone?”

“Dragon bone. It’s part of an old tradition. They probably used it because you’re a blightborn. Don’t worry about it right now.” She must have seen the stubborn look in my eyes. “Look, all you need to know is that you can still get out of this place if you try.”

“Fine. So what’s next?” I demanded. “You two obviously know a lot more about what to expect than I do.”

Visha shrugged. “We’ll split up for now. You’ll wander around. Just hang out. Try not to fall into any traps. Don’t get eaten by any wild animals. If you’re still feeling groggy then stay out of Regan’s way if you see her.”

“And then?” I asked cautiously. “That’s it? That’s all there is to it?”

“Of course not. That would be too easy, wouldn’t it?” Visha snickered. “Get across the island. Meet us on the other side. There’s sure to be at least one or two more challenges. You’ll need another consort’s help for at least one of them. Evander and I will be there waiting. One of us will help you finish this.”

“Not if I beat you there first,” I said automatically.

Visha raised an angular eyebrow. “That’s the spirit.”

She stepped towards me and lowered her voice. “Just watch out for Regan. I know she sees this as her chance to get at you now that Blake’s not around to stop her. You’re in rough shape. This probably isn’t the best time to take her on.” She glanced at Evander who had turned his back to us and was staring into the trees, tapping his foot impatiently. “Look, I’d stay with you but Evander is scared we’re going to get in trouble for all of this. I doubt we are. It’s clear that we can push the boundaries. I think they want us to. Besides, Regan’s the one who tore up the playbook first. She’s breaking all of the rules. We’re just helping to even the field. I’ve got your back, but I have to have Evander’s, too.”

Our eyes met. I stared into Visha’s violet ones, still unable to quite believe I was going to trust her.

I nodded. “All right.”

She started to walk away.

“Visha,” I called. She turned back. “You really did all this just because Blake told you to?”

“For Blake, sure. But not just because of him. I fucking hate Regan,” she said with a grin that showed her pointed fangs. “I’ve been waiting for this for years. I can’t wait to see what happens to her after today.” She shot me a thoughtful look. “You’re not as weak as you look either, Pendragon. Get your shit together and you’ll be fine. Go drink some water. Good luck out there.”

“Good luck,” I echoed as she walked away with Evander.

For the next hour or so, I moved through the dense jungle, the thick, humid air making the fabric of my tunic stick to me like a second skin. Before long, I’d removed off my vest and tied it around my hips. Then I pulled off my tunic, ripped away the bottom half and used the extra fabric to tie back my hair so the heavy curls weren’t sticking to my face and neck. My midriff was now exposed and I supposed I might get a few more insect bites, but at least I could breathe better this way.

The heavy fog from the drug was lifting. At times I felt a wave of dizziness but I could mostly push it away. And something else was starting to kick in. The effects of Blake’s blood. I could feel them working my way through my system. I was under more stress and strain. I figured that was kicking the effects of the blood into high gear. I could feel the change in my body, the power coursing through me.

Ever since my fight with Visha that day in Advanced Weaponry, I’d been honing the advantages of my rider's build with Professor Sankara's help. But no matter how hard I’d worked, I knew there was no way I would ever be as strong or as fast as a highblood.

But today? I wasn’t so sure. That feeling of powerlessness I’d had when I woke up was dissipating. Did I have Blake to thank for that?

I came to a small stream and knelt down beside it. The water was clear and cool as it trickled over the rocks. I cupped my hands and drank deeply. The cold water washed away some of the residual blurriness that still clung to me. I felt stronger now, more myself.

I stood back up, wiping my mouth, and leaned back against a tree, looking ahead. By my guess, I was about halfway around the island by now. If Visha was right, we’d meet up on the other side, just in time for the next test. I hoped she’d keep her word and wait for me.

Just as I began to move again, a blink of movement in the trees caught my eye. My instincts kicked in and I dropped and rolled, just as a small silver blade came flying through the air and landed in the trunk of the tree right where I’d been standing.

There was a rustling sound. Regan stepped out from the underbrush to my right, a sharp rapier in her hand.

There was another sound, this time from in front of me. Gretchen emerged, twirling a small throwing knife between her fingers, a cruel grin on her face. She wore a belt across her shoulders, loaded with at least three more of the small blades.

Someone whistled from directly above me. I glanced up to find Quinn perched in a tree, a bow in hand and an arrow already drawn, aimed squarely at my chest.

Regan stepped out in front. “Look, girls. The little blightborn lamb has lost her way. What? No dragon to protect you?”

I tried to keep my expression neutral, as my eyes flitted between the three girls. “What do you want, Regan?”

Regan sneered. “Oh, nothing much. Just to teach you a lesson about taking what’s mine.”

“I’ve got the best seat in the house,” Quinn called, from where she perched high in the tree. “Let the show begin.”

Gretchen danced up and down on her feet. “Oh, this is going to be fun.”

I sighed. “This again? I’ve never wanted Blake. You know that.”

“I know he’s far too good for you, blightborn bitch,” Regan spat. “As am I. You pollute us both with this unnatural alliance.”

My temper started to rise. Not this Blood of the Blessed shit again. “Does Blake know you’re here? Attacking me like this? What's he going to do when he finds out?”

“It doesn't matter,” Regan hissed. “He’s not here to protect you anymore. Blake and his misguided sense of duty. I don’t understand it, but after today he’ll finally be free. You’ve been a thorn in my side since the moment he dragged you in, covered in dirt. I could tell even then that you thought you were something special. Better than the rest of us. Well, you’re about to learn a lesson in true superiority. Gretchen and Quinn and I are going to teach it to you.”

I tried to keep my face impassive. “I don’t think I’m superior but I sure as hell don’t think I’m beneath you either. You know I’ve always wished we could be friends. I wanted us to work together.”

Regan laughed. “Right. Keep telling yourself that. As if I’d ever stoop so low. I know exactly what you want, Pendragon. Blake Drakharrow’s cock inside of you. You little slut. You want him in your bed, don’t you? But just because he’s abandoned mine doesn’t mean I’m going to give him up to you so easily.”