Page 15 of On Wings of Blood

“Getting a memory or two back, are we now?” Lord Drakharrow’s smile was slit-like, predatory.

“Maybe,” I said blasély. “Who knows what I’ll remember given enough time? It could be something useful.”

“Perhaps the goddess sent her. Perhaps she’s a gift from the Bloodmaiden,” a woman near me whispered to her neighbor excitedly.

Lord Drakharrow’s eyes shot towards her and the woman squeaked, then fell silent.

But it was too late. I smiled triumphantly. He couldn’t kill me now. Not now that hope was spreading.

“Very well, Medra Pendragon,” Lord Drakharrow said slowly. “Live you shall. But in bondage to the Pure, as are all blightborn. Such is your debt. Your value lives in your blood and your blood must be shared.”

I took a step backward, my face falling, and tried to wrench my hand away from Blake’s grasp. But the bastard held tight, jerking me back beside him with a savage twist.

Lord Drakharrow smiled at us. “You see? Already you are bound to my nephew. He found you. He saved you. You owe him a debt of life. A debt that can never be repaid.”

“Hestoleme! He chained me, dragged me here,” I protested heatedly. “I owe him nothing. What I wish for is to be free.”

“Freedom within the Thralldom is of the purest sort,” Lord Drakharrow assured me. I felt a prickle of unease go down my spine. “Bondage is freedom. The sooner you accept that, the happier you’ll be.”

He rose to his feet suddenly. “Today your life changes. Medra Pendragon, today you take up your place in the Thralldom. Today I lift you up from the murk and mire. I name you Dragon Rider of Sangratha. Let the one who found you be your guide in this new world.”

Blake’s hand jerked around mine. “Uncle...”

“Silence, Nephew.” Lord Drakharrow warned. “I honor you both, here in this hall today. Make no mistake about it.”

The vampire lord waved a hand and I felt power go through me, winding itself around me like an icy ribbon.

There was a sharp pulling sensation and I found my hand not simply being gripped by Blake’s but actually clasping his back as if I wanted to.

There came the sound of tearing flesh.

I screamed, my eyes darting downward.

My wrist had been torn open. Blood dripped onto the marble floor beneath.

But not just mine. Blake's wrist was pressed against my own, and it was bleeding, too.

Lord Drakharrow was smiling down at us, his red eyes glowing.

“Let it be known that this bond is unbreakable, as enduring as the strength of our realm. By my will and the power of our ancient rites, Blake Drakharrow and Medra Pendragon are now bound together in fate and duty, forever unyielding, irrevocably united. As the dragon flies and the blood endures, so shall your destinies be intertwined. Your bond is forged. Through fire and shadows, you shall be one. What is spoken is unbroken. What is bound cannot be unbound.”

I gasped aloud as our linked hands flew above our heads. Our blood, mixed together, trickled down my arm, warm and sticky.

Lord Drakharrow flicked his wrist and our hands dropped.

I let go of Blake’s as fast as I could, stepping away from him as if I’d been branded.

Which I had.

I looked at my wrist. Already the gash was healing. But a mark remained. A teardrop shape. Bright red like a drop of blood. I rubbed at it and it stayed in place, even as the pain faded.

“This is but the first step in your binding,” Lord Drakharrow said, watching me as I took in the mark. “Blood is the beginning just as blood is the end. Blood will have blood. Your essence has not been shared completely. The mark is the first stage.”

I glanced around and suddenly realized how still the hall had become. Many of the vampires around me were licking their lips. Some were sniffing the air hungrily like Barnabas had.

I shivered. They smelled me. Smelled my blood. And they hungered for it.

I glanced at Blake, expecting to see the same bloodlust on his face. But to my surprise, he was as stoic as before. If anything, his jaw was clenched a little tighter, his lips pressed together even harder. He refused to meet my gaze.

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