Текст книги "On wings of blood"

Автор книги: Briar Boleyn

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Текущая страница: 33 (всего у книги 36 страниц)

CHAPTER 54 – MEDRA

We were the last ones.

The outskirts of the dome were empty as we approached.

The pair of heavy stone doors leading the way inside sat slightly ajar.

In front of them was a stone pillar topped with a small offering bowl and a knife. Despite the many pairs of consorts who had come before us, the bowl was empty and the knife was clean.

Another highblood mystery. I wondered if Professor Wispwood had been here, working her magic.

“Well, this is it,” I muttered, glancing at Regan. “You want to go first or should I do the honors?”

Regan lifted her chin. “I always go first, Pendragon.” She stepped forward and lifted up the ritual knife. With a swift motion, she cut a small mark in her palm and let a few drops of blood dribble into the bowl.

The stone doors groaned, cracking open further, but not fully. We were only halfway there.

“Your turn,” Regan said, holding the blade out to me.

Instinctively I reached for it.

The second my fingers brushed the handle, Regan yanked the blade forward, slicing it across my forearm instead of my palm. I gasped as blood poured from the wound into the offering bowl.

“What the hell?” I hissed, clutching my arm as crimson continued to drip onto the ground. Yet I could already feel Blake’s blood working inside me, healing me. The tear in my flesh was starting to close.

Regan smiled darkly. “Whoops. Sorry. My hand must have slipped.”

I glared at her as the doors opened with an ominous creak.

Regan laughed and strode into the building without a backwards glance.

Resisting the urge to pull her back by the hair, I took a deep breath and then quickly tore a piece of cloth from the edge of my shirt to wrap my arm, before following her.

Inside the dome, the atmosphere was cold.

Darkness swallowed us as soon as we entered. But as the doors slammed shut behind us, torches flared to life one by one around the walls.

I glanced at the wall to my left and then stepped up to it, grabbing the two swords that had been hanging there. Beside them hung two small shields, bucklers. I tossed one of each to Regan and she caught them.

“Try not to stab me in the back,” I muttered.

She batted her eyelashes. “I make no promises.”

We walked inside the interior of the dome. It was a lot like the arena. A central, circular chamber with a domed roof. There were no tiers of seats though. The building was empty except for us.

Almost empty.

Two creatures stepped out slowly from the shadows as more torches along the walls flared up to illuminate them.

I froze.

Beside me, Regan was shaking her head. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she said, sounding annoyed. She took up a fighting stance and brandished her sword as the two creatures slowly advanced. “Not these things again. They used these last year. Can’t they come up with anything better for these pathetic losers when they flunk out?”

I couldn’t even find the words to answer. All I could do was stare.

The creatures were grotesque amalgamations of what had once been students–blightborn students. Human flesh had been combined with arachnid traits. Legs split into eight limbs. Mouths split into mandibles that dripped and clicked as they moved.

From what Regan had just said, it sounded as if this was a common challenge in the Games. Turning former students into monstrosities.

I thought of all the consorts who had come before us. Of all the battles that had already been fought in the dome today.

Maybe, just maybe I could have steeled myself to face those...things. If one of the students hadn’t been someone I knew.

Naveen scuttled slowly towards me, the twisted creature that held his soul a horrible mockery of the sweet, goofy boy he had once been.

His brown skin, once warm and full of life, had taken on a sickly, blotchy hue. Patches of thick, dark hair sprouted in uneven clusters along his arms and back. Where his legs should have been were now eight jointed limbs, thin and spindly, jutting from his sides. They bent and clicked unnaturally as he moved in stilted steps.

His back was hunched, the spider-like limbs supporting a stretched, elongated frame, hardly human at all, giving him a lopsided, horrifyingly insectoid appearance.

And his face. Oh, gods, his face. His boyish features were twisted into a nightmare, eyes bulging and black like a spider’s, devoid of all human emotion. Predatory. Rapacious. Sharp mandibles extended from his mouth, twitching grotesquely and dripping with a viscous liquid.

Beside me, Regan was unphased. If anything, she seemed amused by my horror.

She gave a low, mocking chuckle. “Get a grip, Pendragon. Choking up already? Guess I don’t need to worry about planning my revenge after all. Your little friend is going to finish you off before I can.”

She darted across the room as my stomach turned. Part of me wanted to slap her sideways. But Naveen–if any part of him really was Naveen anymore–took another step closer and my focus shifted back.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Regan engage the second monster. A spider-like creature I could just barely recognize as a First Year girl. She’d shared a piece of parchment with me in History of Sangratha once.

I turned back to Naveen, trying to block out the pain I was feeling.

I forced myself to shove away the memories of Naveen’s infectious laughter in class. His goofy smile. Tried to forget about how he’d never be able to tell Florence how he felt now. He’d never be able to tell us anything again.

My hands were trembling. I wanted to run but there was nowhere to go.

Naveen lunged.

I barely raised my buckler in time. The force of the blow sent me stumbling backwards, arm throbbing from the impact.

He was fast. One of his legs caught me in the side, slicing through my shirt. Pain bloomed instantly.

He was moving again, his spider limbs propelling him forward with terrifying speed.

I dodged, rolling to the side as Naveen’s mandibles snapped down inches from my face.

The air was filled with the clicking and clattering of his legs as he turned to face me again.

“I can’t do this. I fucking can’t.” I heard my voice crack.

You have to. You have to be strong, Orcades’ voice insisted, piercing through the fog. You have to let go of him. He's gone, Medra. This isn't him. Not anymore.

I drew a deep sobbing breath. It’s too hard. Those motherfuckers. They planned it. All of it.

There was a pause, as if she was hesitating. The crown.

No, I said. No, no, no. Then I thought of the dream I’d woken up from. Of Professor Wispwood lifting the circlet off my head.

The pain stung even worse. They made me choose, I said hollowly. They got into my head and they made me choose this. I did this.

You didn’t choose this, Orcades insisted. Not consciously.

But I did. It could have been Florence.

Florence, the sweet, smart, bookish girl who I had come to love like a sister.

The crown had sat atop my head, piercing my thoughts with its bitter powers. And it had seen something I’d never have admitted out loud. That I loved Florence more than Naveen. It had taken my two dearest friends and made a mockery of friendship, of love, of loyalty.

The only thing you can do for Naveen now, my mother said, is let him die with dignity.

Dignity? I let out a choking hiccuping sob and rolled away as another spider-like limb pierced down where I’d just been. How can there be any dignity when they’ve done this to him?

It’s a mercy killing, my mother said softly. Think of the boy’s parents.

I knew she was right. That didn’t make it feel any less like a betrayal.

The creature that was once Naveen let out an inhuman screech and darted towards me with unnatural speed. I dodged, but this time I wasn’t fast enough. Maybe I didn’t want to be.

One of his long, spindly legs caught my side, slashing me open with sharp, needle-like claws.

I knocked it aside with the buckler, then rolled away, clutching at my ribs, feeling the blood seep through my fingers.

For a moment, pain coursed through me and the thought crossed my mind: What if I just let it happen? Blake’s blood couldn’t heal me fast enough if I just let Naveen attack me over and over again. It would be painful but quick. This entire nightmare would finally be over. I’d have escaped.

Don’t you dare, my mother’s voice warned sternly. You end him now before he ends you. Think beyond yourself. Beyond this moment. Take courage. Beyond the darkness lies the light.

Light.

I tried to do as she said. I thought of Florence. Her kindness and her brilliance.

I thought of Blake, whose bullying had evolved into a strange protection. Blake who I couldn’t quite bring myself to fully hate.

I even thought of the fluffin, ridiculous Neville with his soft fur and happy nature, scooting back and forth across the school, unable to decide if he belonged to Florence or to Blake. He saw something good in each of them, something maybe even I hadn’t fully glimpsed yet.

They were waiting for me. Blake didn’t want me to fail. He’d given me his blood to make sure I got out of here.

I thought of Naveen’s parents. My heart ached. I owed them this much. Their son deserved a peaceful end. Better he find his rest at my hands than at Regan’s.

Tears blurred my vision. I blinked them away, determination filling my chest.

The spider-creature charged again, its legs clattering against the floor in a horrifying rhythm.

I dodged to the side, ignoring the sting of my wound.

I was faster this time. I didn’t hesitate.

I swiped at one of the spider’s legs, severing it at the joint. Naveen screeched in agony, staggering back.

I thought of Florence, watching back at Bloodwing, and the tears poured down my face.

I knew what I had to do. But my sword felt heavy in my hand.

Naveen lunged again. I tried to block but one of his massive legs crashed into my sword arm, knocking the blade from my grip. It fell to the floor, skidding out of reach.

I ducked down, yanking Coregon’s dagger free from my boot.

Let’s finish this, my mother murmured softly. Together.

Naveen darted forward again but I was ready. I dove and drove the dagger into the spider’s capacious chest, right where its heart should have been. I ripped the knife savagely back and forth, tearing a wide swathe in the creature’s underside.

Guts and viscous black fluid rained down on me. I gagged. Overhead, the spider-creature convulsed violently and collapsed.

I stood over it, looking down into its black eyes. Was Naveen still in there? Looking back at me somehow?

I wiped at the tears on my cheeks, my heart heavy.

I could taste the blood magic, my mother said, her voice filled with disgust. The dark sorcery that bound him. His soul was already gone. You just gave his body peace.

I nodded, closing my eyes, trying to let the weight of her words sink in fully. Naveen had already been lost. The highbloods did this to him, not me.

But I couldn't escape the feeling of guilt. The Crown of Bone had been placed upon my head. I was the culpable one.

From across the room, I heard a scream. My eyes snapped open.

Regan was fighting her own monster. Blood ran down her arms as she raised her sword, trying to keep the creature at bay.

Her cocky arrogance had fled.

You don’t owe her anything, my mother reminded me.

I glanced across the room. The doors on the opposite side had opened halfway. I could slip through them, leaving Regan behind.

Regan had tried to kill me. She might put things to rest after this. Or she might do it again.

Leaving her would be the justice she deserved.

I clenched my teeth. I can’t.

Cursing under my breath, I sprinted across the room. The creature had cornered Regan, its long legs pinning her to the floor.

I didn’t hesitate, I threw my buckler at the spider-like monster, hitting it square in the back.

The creature shrieked and turned towards me. I refused to look it in the eyes. A First Year girl. This was a First Year girl once.

“Hey!” I shouted, waving my arms like an idiot and backing away. “Come and get me!”

Behind the creature, Regan was rolling to her feet. She grabbed the sword she’d dropped as I continued to distract the spider, trying to give her the opening she needed.

It was enough.

Regan ran forward and plunged her sword into the creature’s side, piercing its hide. She withdrew the sword and stabbed it again, then a third time.  The monster screeched and writhed, collapsing to the floor.

Regan wiped the blood from the blade on her thigh and shot me a haughty look I knew only too well.

“What took you so long?”

I bit back a retort.

We didn’t say another word to one another as we turned and headed towards the doors.

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CHAPTER 55 – MEDRA

Two days later, I sat on my bed in the First Year dorm, knees pulled up, arms wrapped around them. Beside me, Florence leaned against my side, her head on my shoulder. We’d both been crying.

The weather reflected both our moods. Storm clouds were gathering outside the diamond latticed windows.

The skin around my eyes felt as if it had been rubbed raw from all of the tears I’d shed since the Games had ended.

But the tears weren’t the worst part. What I couldn’t escape was the guilt that twisted inside me like a knife, sharp and relentless.

Florence shifted, wiping at her red eyes. “I can’t believe he's really gone,” she whispered, for what must have been the hundredth time that day.

I slipped my arm around her. This wasn’t about me, I reminded myself. It was about Florence. It was about Naveen’s parents.

I’d already started writing the Sharmas a letter. Florence said she’d write one, too, and we could send them together.

“A few days before the Games,” Florence said suddenly. “Naveen said he had something to tell me.”

I froze. “He did? What did he say?”

“I think you already know.” Florence's voice was small. “He said you’d already guessed.”

“Oh, Florence.” I sighed. “He told you how he felt about you?”

I felt her nod. “He told me he loved me. I didn’t know what to say. I told him... I told him I needed time to think.”

Her voice cracked and I tightened my hold on her.

I felt her start to sob. “But I'll never be able to talk to him again now. I asked for time but he had no time left. I didn’t know.”

My throat constricted. I wanted to comfort my friend, wanted to say the right words.

But every moment we sat here together it was all I could do to keep the torrent of guilt from slipping out of my throat.

It was my fault, I silently chanted. I’m sorry. It was my fault. I did this. Forgive me.

I’d saved Florence. I’d doomed Naveen.

How could I ever tell Florence any of that? How could I tell her I’d somehow made a choice that had cost our friend his life?

I swallowed hard. Even so, my voice trembled when I spoke. “Florence...” I shouldn’t ask. I didn’t really want to know. “Were you in love with him, too?” The words tumbled out.

There was a long silence. I hated myself for asking.

“Never mind, you don’t have to answer that,” I said. “I’m so sorry for asking, Florence...”

“I... I don’t even know,” Florence whispered, interrupting. “I didn’t have a chance to figure it out. I thought there would be time. I thought maybe we could try...”

She broke off, turning her head and burrowing it against my shoulder.

I bit my lip hard enough to taste blood.

Naveen was gone. Florence had lost her chance. What if this was it for them? True love. What if they’d been meant to be together and now they’d both lost their chance at happiness?

If it hadn’t been for the crown, Naveen might still be alive. There were other kids like him, students who hadn’t passed the year at Bloodwing, who were being kicked out in disgrace but hadn’t been killed. I’d heard most were being sent to highblood households to work as servants. Indentured labor. It was horrible, but at last they were still alive. They hadn’t all been sent to be slaughtered in that domed arena, as sick tests for us to pass or fail.

There was a soft knock at the door.

We both tensed. Florence quickly wiped at her eyes with one of the many handkerchiefs littering the bed. But it was no use. Her face was flushed and blotchy. I was sure mine was no better.

I stood up stiffly, my limbs heavy from sitting for so long.

I ran my hands through my hair. I hadn’t brushed it in days. Taking care of myself had somehow seemed wrong. As if I didn’t deserve it. Living should have been enough, shouldn’t it?

I opened the door and there stood Blake.

For a second, I forgot to breathe. I’d forgotten how beautiful he could be.

Even now, looking disheveled and awkward and out of place.

He looked as if he hadn’t slept in days. There were dark circles under his eyes. His usual cool, composed confidence was nowhere to be seen. He wore a white shirt. The top buttons were undone, revealing a pale triangle of skin with curling gold hairs and a glimpse of the black dragon. His sleeves were rolled up, baring his well-muscled forearms. His hands were shoved into his pockets.

His gray eyes moved from me to Florence, then back to me.

He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry to interrupt.”

He looked like he wanted to be anywhere other than where he was. Yet when my eyes met his, I saw something soften there.

“What is it?” I said, keeping my voice low.

Blake hesitated, glancing at Florence. Then his jaw clenched. “You need to come with me. Headmaster Kim has summoned us. We’re being called into a disciplinary hearing.”

Florence slid off the bed. “A hearing?”

She pushed past me, going straight for Blake. I’d never seen her like this. “What for? What's going to happen to Medra? Is she in trouble?”

Blake looked down at her, his gray eyes surprisingly kind. “I'm not sure,” he said patiently. “But if she is, I’ll be right there with her. I won’t leave her to face it alone. I promise you that, Miss Shen.”

Florence said nothing, just stared back at him. “All right,” she said finally. “Don't you dare leave her with him.”

She meant Headmaster Kim. I knew she blamed him the most for Naveen.

Still, I was shocked at how she’d spoken to Blake. She seemed to be getting over her diffidence towards highbloods. Or maybe it was just him.

Blake’s eyes were still soft as he watched Florence climb back up onto the bed. “We have to go. Try not to worry. I’ll have her back soon. I promise.”

I crossed over to Florence and put my arms around her. She gripped my wrist.

“Go,” she whispered. “I’ll be fine. I might go back to my room and sleep.”

I nodded. I hoped she’d be able to rest. She needed it.

I didn’t want to leave her, but it looked as if I had no choice.

I followed Blake out the door.

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CHAPTER 56 – BLAKE

Pendragon suddenly seemed so small as she walked alongside me.

Her long red curls hung around her face, frizzy and tangled. She wore a long black dress over the same pair of lace-up leather boots she’d worn in the Games. The dress hung on her frame. Even in just two days she seemed as if she’d lost weight.

I hated seeing her like this. I knew she was grieving. Her pale freckled skin was red and blotchy. I could tell she’d been crying.

Any other girl would have looked like a wreck. But not her.

It unnerved me how beautiful she still was. I’d missed the sight of her face.

I jammed my hands deeper in my pockets, resisting the urge to say that very thing out loud.

She looked frail. But I knew she wasn’t. No matter what she might believe about herself right now, I knew she was strong.

I wished I could figure out the right thing to say. I wanted to tell her how every second of watching the Games had torn me up inside. It’d been the worst feeling in the world.

And then, seeing her have to fight her friend. My heart had ached for her.

But the words wouldn’t come. I wasn’t sure she’d even want to hear them. Not from me.

Or maybe I was worried I’d sound weak. Expose too much of this feeling crawling around inside of my chest.

So I stole glances. The distance between us feeling too close and too far all at the same time.

Then she shocked me by breaking the silence.

“I wanted to thank you.”

I blinked in surprise. “What?”

“I owe you a debt. What you did, making me drink your blood–it probably saved my life.” She stopped, turned to look up at me. “If you hadn’t given it to me...”

Regan and the others would have killed her. She wouldn’t be standing here by my side now.

I’d almost lost her.

I felt my breath catch. The whole time I’d been watching her, I’d wondered if she hated me for making her drink it. Yet now here she was, thanking me for making her do something she still didn’t fully understand the consequences of. Something inside me twisted and stabbed. Claws of shame. Claws of guilt.

“You don’t owe me anything,” I said stiffly. “I’m just glad you survived.”

Her green eyes searched mine. “Is that why we’re in trouble? Because of your blood?”

She didn’t know the half of it.

I ran a hand through my hair. “No. At least, I don’t think so. There’s more to it than that. Though I did break the rules by giving it to you.”

I wanted to shield her from the confrontation that was coming up. I wished I could ask her what she wanted me to do if things went in a certain direction.

My thoughts kept circling back to Regan and each time they did, my fury threatened to overflow. She’d defied me. Gone after Pendragon when they were supposed to work together. I’d known it was coming, but even so, when those three girls had cornered her, it could have turned into a bloodbath.

I wondered if Regan had known how close she’d come to dying that day.

Or how close she still was.

Pendragon had only survived the games because of the precautions I’d taken. Giving her my blood. Asking Visha to watch her back.

That, and her own strength and presence of mind. She hadn’t panicked. Once the drugs had cleared from her system, she’d pulled herself together and done everything she’d had to do to survive. Even when it meant killing one of her best friends. She’d passed every test they’d thrown at her and I was proud of her. So fucking proud.

I thought of Coregon. Pendragon and I had that in common now. We’d both killed a friend.

I doubted it would be something we’d fondly reminisce about together.

Visha. Panic struck me. I wondered if she’d told Pendragon the truth about that first day in the training yard. Visha had taken things further than she was supposed to, so I’d had to get Sankara to intervene. Even so, I’d initiated the set-up. If Pendragon ever found out, she’d be furious.

The fact that she was walking here so calmly beside me now, thanking me, must have meant Visha had kept quiet.

I stayed close to her as we approached the headmaster’s office.

We stepped inside, and the atmosphere hit me like a wall of ice.

Kim sat behind his desk, his dark robes draped around him. His sharp eyes flicked upwards as we entered and it was as if the weight of all Bloodwing’s expectations bore down on me. There was and never had been anything comforting about Headmaster Kim. He was the cold, uncompromising face of highblood authority at Bloodwing.

On the far right stood my uncle. Viktor Drakharrow, the living embodiment of highblood privilege and familial intimidation. He was the oldest highblood in the room. He glanced my way, his eyes glowing deep and unsettling red. His eyes moved to Pendragon and I felt my skin crawl. I wanted to grab his chin and force his head in the other direction. Nothing about that dirty, disgusting old man should be near her.

I made myself look in the other direction and my eyes fell on Regan. She was seated in a wooden chair to the left of Kim’s desk. She looked every bit the spoiled highblood princess, with her pointed chin held high and her mouth fixed in a smug pout. Behind her stood her father, Lord Pansera, a tall man with many of his daughter’s features but even less of her charm. His gaze swept over Pendragon as if she were something stuck to the bottom of his boot.

My stomach tightened. I stayed close to Pendragon’s side as the door clicked shut behind us.

Headmaster Kim cleared his throat. “I don’t believe introductions are required. We are gathered here today to discuss the conduct of Blake Drakharrow’s triad during the Consort Games. There are questions regarding the actions of his consorts, specifically the lack of cooperation between them, as well as several broken rules. Consequences must be determined.”

My heart was already pounding. Clearly Regan’s father was here to act as her representative to Kim. And ours? Good old Uncle Viktor.

There was no way I wanted Viktor defending Pendragon. I was here for her. I’d speak for her. If there were penalties to be paid, I’d take them upon myself. No one would harm a hair on her head.

Headmaster Kim was turning towards Regan. “Miss Pansera, a great deal of this centers around your conduct so let’s begin with you. Would you care to explain your actions during the Games?”

Regan lifted her chin defiantly. “Explain? What’s to explain? I did what I had to do,” she said, her voice edged with prideful anger. “I wasn’t going to sit back and watch while she–” She narrowed her eyes at Pendragon. “–made a mockery of our traditions. She doesn’t belong in Blake’s triad and she doesn’t belong at Bloodwing.” She looked over at Viktor. “With all respect, Lord Drakharrow, she never has and I hope the Games have proven this once and for all. She only survived because of me.” She shot a glance at Pendragon, her eyes full of poison. “Did I want to cooperate with her? No, of course not! I wasn’t about to trust my life to her incompetence.”

Pendragon’s hands were curled into fists by her side. I could see her shoulders shaking.

Everything Regan said had been lies.

Was Pendragon going to point that out? If she didn’t, I would, I decided.

I took a step forward. “With all due respect to Miss Pansera,” I said–in other words, none whatsoever. I turned to look at Regan, my eyes holding hers. “I’d be fully sympathetic to her dilemma if I didn’t happen to know for a fact that every word out of her mouth was a lie. We all know that. We were as good as there. We saw exactly what happened. Miss Pansera–” I saw Regan stiffen a little more each time I used her title and not her first name. “Abandoned my consort and went off without her, leaving her to navigate the first challenge alone. It was only thanks to the selfless actions of Visha Vaidya and Evander Sylvain that my consort made it across at all.” Giving Evander any credit was a little rich, but I figured mentioning his name wouldn’t hurt. After all, the Sylvains were another powerful highblood family. “And what did Miss Pansera do next? Did she go to Miss Pendragon, apologize, and offer her assistance for the rest of the Games? No. She underhandedly and cowardly enlisted the help of two other consorts to try to murder Miss Pendragon.”

Lord Pansera cut me off. “My daughter acted with the strength and resolve of a true highblood,” he said, his voice firm. He refused to look at me. “She was placed in a completely untenable situation, paired with an unworthy blightborn girl who should never have been allowed to participate in those Games, let alone serve as a consort to an archon of one of our noblest families. If you ask me, that error is where the real problem lies.”

He swept his gaze across the room, from Headmaster Kim to my uncle. “Lord Drakharrow, I understand the dilemma you faced that day in the Keep, with the heads of the other four houses all watching to see how you would react to this strange girl’s arrival. But Medra Pendragon, this supposed dragon rider–” He fairly spat the words. “–is the reason things went wrong in the first place. She’s the reason my daughter almost died. She lured us all in with blightborn trickery. There is nothing noble about her. And as even she admitted that first day, she is useless–for despite what we all may wish, there are no dragons and there never will be again. My daughter’s triad has been doomed to failure from the moment it was formed, from the moment you allowed the blightborn girl to take up a place here where she does not belong. If you want to ensure the future success of your nephew and my daughter, I insist you cut her loose now. Expunge her from Sangratha.” He turned to rest his eyes on Pendragon. “Execution is too good for her, as far as the Pansera family is concerned.”

I growled low in my throat. “Watch yourself. If anyone deserves to be cut loose, it’s your treacherous daughter.”

I scanned the room. “Who requested the Crown of Bones be used on Pendragon?” I looked over at Regan. “It was you, wasn’t it? I want you to admit it. You purposely tried to sabotage your fellow consort. You did so repeatedly, over and over. Every act of disloyalty you committed towards Pendragon was an act of disloyalty towards me and my house.”

I could only hope Viktor would see it that way, too.

I could hardly stand to look at Regan. We’d grown up together. Our parents had been friends. Now the sight of her filled me with nothing but loathing. Had I really ever let that snake into my bed?

There was a tense, uncomfortable silence as Regan stared back at me, refusing to confess.

“It doesn’t matter,” Headmaster Kim finally interjected. “It doesn’t matter who requested its use. The Crown of Bone was used fairly. We were within our rights to allow it. And your consort survived. That’s all that matters.”

I felt Pendragon tremble at my side. Yes, she’d survived. But what about her friend, Naveen? I knew she had to be thinking about him.

At least now she knew that the Crown of Bone had nothing to do with me. Its use had been cruel and monstrous. Even for fucking highbloods.

Regan’s face twisted in frustration. “You think you’re better than me, don’t you Blake? Why, you’re the biggest cheat of all. You used your own blood on her. Do you want to tell everyone about that?”

I’d known this was coming.

The air in the room took on a greater chill.

I felt my uncle’s gaze hone in on me, razor sharp, even though I knew Marcus must have already told him what I’d done. Still, he stayed silent. I wondered what he was hoping the outcome of this hearing would be exactly. It was evident he had his own objectives in mind as usual.

I glanced down at the flame-haired woman by my side. I longed to wrap my arm around Pendragon’s waist and hold her against me, giving her my strength, steadying her.