Page 188 of On Wings of Blood

“Oh, she was willing all right.” Pendragon’s voice dripped with irony. “So willing she fell for your highblood bullshit, hook, line and sinker. That’s the only part of it that...” She trailed off, shaking her head.

I felt a drop of water hit my face. One of her tears.

“She didn’t suffer,” I said softly. “If that’s what you meant. I don’t think she even knew it was happening.”

She sniffled. “It doesn’t make it any better.”

“I know.”

“What was it for? What the hell was it for? Why did they kill her?” She stepped closer, her face twisted with disdain. “Tell me the truth for once in your life.”

My throat tightened as I struggled with what to share. The weight of the lie I was about to tell pressing down on me. But how could I possibly tell her the truth?

I hesitated, my voice caught in my throat.

“Tell me!” Pendragon’s voice cracked, her fury showing through. She shoved me hard in the chest, pushing me backwards. “What was all that blood for?”

My jaw clenched. “Magic. Some sort of a spell.”

“For what? What were they doing?” she persisted.

I ran my hands through my hair in frustration. “I don’t know. They didn’t tell me. They didn’t even tell me she was going to die. I guess tonight was supposed to be my... initiation. If I’d shown up.”

Pendragon covered her mouth. “Kage.”

Even now, I felt rage rising at the sound of his name on her lips. “What about him?”

“He’s a house leader, too. Was he there?” she demanded. “Wearing one of those masks?”

I shook my head wearily. “I have no idea. He might have been. But it wasn’t mandatory to attend. It’s supposed to be a privilege. They knew we had the ball tonight. Maybe Kage stayed at Bloodwing.” I wondered if Catherine Mortis or Lysander Oprhos had been in the Sanctum.

“A privilege,” she said with sarcasm. “Right. What a wonderful fucking privilege. As if you aren’t all privileged enough. So whatprivilegewas the spell for this time? What sick tradition? You already think you own us. You sacrifice blightborns as if we’re worthless. You already control this entire cursed kingdom...”

Her eyes widened, horror dawning in them.

I stayed silent.

“Oh, my gods,” she breathed, taking a step back as if I’d struck her. “That’s what this is all about, isn’t it? The spell. It’s like thrallweave. It’s to control the blightborn in the city. To keep them compliant.”

My stomach dropped, the truth hanging in the air between us, thick and oppressive.

Her voice broke. “How could you? How can you be a part of this? Why do you hate us so much?”

My throat tightened as I saw her pain. I stepped towards her, desperate to comfort her somehow.

“Stay back,” she whispered. “Stay away from me. Don’t you dare fucking touch me.”

I swallowed. “I didn’t choose this. None of this is what I wanted. I was born a highblood.” I took a deep breath. “Some highbloods murder blightborn to feed, yes. You probably figured that outalready. But it’s never supposed to happen at Bloodwing. And I...do not. I swear that to you, Pendragon.”

“Why?” she challenged me. “Why not kill us for your food? Why limit yourself? Why hold back?”

“Because the idea sickens me,” I burst out. “To take a life like that. For that reason. Not to protect myself or to protect...” I’d almost said “to protect you.” “Or to protect another. Not in self-defense but simply out of willful indulgence. I hate the idea of it. And so did my father. He tried to change things.”

“And then he died,” she said simply.

I nodded tightly. ‘Yes.”

“So why don’t you do something about it?” she said, her voice deceptively soft. “You stand by and let these people die. You let them murder that girl. You could stop it, but you don’t.”

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