Page 128 of On Wings of Blood

A smug smile tugged at his lips as I stepped inside the room.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I demanded.

“Rodriguez had to step out today. He asked me to fill in for him.” He tilted his head, obviously enjoying himself to no end, his eyes gleaming with mockery.

All of a sudden I understood. Blake was one of Rodriguez’s other pupils. One of the highbloods he tutored in thrallguard.

“For fuck’s sake,” I muttered, already turning around. “No thanks. Tell Rodriguez I’ll see him at our next session.”

Before I could reach the door, Blake was there, moving with lightning speed to block it with his body.

He shoved the door shut with a bang, then leaned against the wood. “Just where do you think you’re going?”

My pulse quickened. But I refused to let him see how much I was rattled. “Get out of my way. You’re not a professor. I don’t have to listen to you.”

“Actually...” Blake folded his arms behind his head. “You do. I may not be a professor, but I’m the next best thing. Your archon. I’m also your future House Leader now. Officially.”

I glared at him. I wasn’t about to offer my congratulations.

He leaned towards me slightly, his breath warm and minty against my ear. “Besides, we both know there's no way you’ll get past me unless I let you.”

His voice dropped, sending a shiver down my spine. “And I’m not in a generous mood today, Pendragon. You could even say I’m a little pissed off.”

Belatedly, I realized there were fading bruises all along his jaw. I hadn’t seen Coregon strike him there. I wondered how he’d gotten them.

Did it matter? Who cared if Blake Drakharrow was hurt? He deserved anything that came to him. Anything bad, that was.

My eyes narrowed. “Move.”

He chuckled softly. “Feisty as always. But sorry, no can do, little dragon. We’ve got a lesson to get through and I mean to teach it.”

He reached a hand out, so fast I didn't see it coming, and brushed a strand of my hair off my face. “No can do, little dragon. I’m looking forward to showing you how a real highblood uses thrallweave.”

I slapped his hand away, my temper flaring. But I hadn’t missed the subtle jibe at Regan. “Don’t you dare fucking touch me.”

Blake’s eyes gleamed. He was having fun, the asshole. “I don't need to touch you to get what I want. And I want us to get to know one another better.”

Without warning, he was in my mind.

The pressure hit me like a sledgehammer.

Blake didn’t hold back. He wasn’t Rodriguez. He battered at my mind with a savage strength, pushing at my defenses with a brute force I wasn’t used to–or fully prepared for.

I gritted my teeth and forced myself to focus. This was what I had been training for. What was the point of the lessons if I couldn’t go up against a real highblood?

I’d built my walls. I’d blocked off my thoughts. I could handle this.

But Blake was strong.

Each mental blow sent cracks shuddering through my defenses. The walls I’d spent weeks building began to fracture. I fought to keep him out, but it was like trying to hold back a storm with a piece of paper.

Blake was everywhere. Overwhelming me with his attacks.

I curled my fingers into fists, sweat beading on my brow as I pushed back with everything I had.

“Get out,” I gasped, hoping the strain in my voice wouldn’t betray how close I was to breaking.

The air between us felt charged. His proximity was suffocating.

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