Page 233 of On Wings of Blood

I’d do it the next night, after Selection Day was over.

My throat was suddenly dry as I thought of it. The idea of finally tasting her blood. I’d waited so long for this moment, for the chance to claim her fully. Blood, body, and soul. To taste her, to take her. To fully possess her in every way I could.

The mere thought of her blood stirred a hunger deep inside me. One I’d been repressing since I’d first found her that day.

I’d fed to survive, fed to live. But this would be different. I could almost taste the sweetness in my mouth. I imagined the way the red liquid would flow from her veins, stirring my senses. She would taste like she smelled. No, better. Unimaginably better. I knew it.

A whiff of guilt crept over me. Would she mind? Would she surrender herself to me like I needed her to?

I pushed my doubts aside. I could explain it to her in a way she’d have to accept. She already wanted me. I knew that. I’d make her understand this was good for both of us. Necessary for survival.

Tomorrow night I’d take what was mine. There was no turning back now.

CHAPTER 59 - MEDRA

It was the last day of school.

Florence and I walked side by side down the hall towards the Dragon Court. Today was Selection Day. All First Years would be funneled into one of the four houses. Next year most would take up paths they had already selected. A few exceptions had been made for especially gifted students like Florence, who still couldn’t make up her mind.

The halls were alive with a hum of activity as students’ cheers rang out every few moments. Despite the ones who were no longer with us–the lucky ones who had been sent away, the unlucky who had been sacrificed in Bloodwing’s cruel traditions–the overall mood was celebratory. Students were tossing caps and scarves into the air, spring’s warmth having finally broken winter’s cold grip. The trees lining the cloisters were in full bloom, soft petals swirling in the breeze.

As we passed by groups of laughing and chattering First Years, the air was thick with anxious energy. Selection Day announcements were coming up in a few minutes. The Dragon Court lay ahead, the vast courtyard where our fates would be decided.

“Feels strange, doesn’t it?” Florence said softly. She tucked a strand of sleek black hair behind one ear. “We’re missing so many, and yet...” She trailed off but I knew what she meant.

“You deserve to be happy,” I said firmly. “You worked hard. You made it this far. Naveen would be proud of you.”

“It’s so unfair that he’s not here with us,” she said, lowering her voice.

I nodded. “We’ll honor him by surviving.” I knew that was what he’d want for Florence. I wasn’t sure what he’d want for me.

Regardless, I didn’t want my friend harboring too much anger towards the highbloods who had done this to Naveen. I wouldn’t have Florence risking herself. It was too dangerous.

And what about me? I’d harbor my anger, store it away, save it up. If what Kage had said was true, something was coming. Whatever it was, maybe I could use it to my advantage.

Because it wasn’t Regan who was really to blame for what had happened to Naveen. It wasn’t even entirely me–though I would hold onto that guilt like a tether for the rest of my days, refusing to let go. The entire highblood way of life was to blame.

I forced my thoughts away from the darkness and scanned the courtyard ahead as more and more students joined the crowd.

Someone punched me on the arm, hard, and I yelped. “Ouch!”

“There you are,” Visha smirked. Her short, silvery-white hair caught the sunlight. She'd razored the sides and looked even more badass than usual. She tucked her hands into the pockets of her trousers. “Mind if I join you two? Thought I’d slum it up today.”

She laughed as she caught my expression. “Only joking. Who do you take me for? Regan?”

She inclined her head slightly and I saw Regan on the far side of the courtyard. The queen bee of House Drakharrow was standing all alone.

Visha nudged me. I turned my head and saw Quinn, Gretchen, and Larissa. They had their heads together and were whispering while looking over at Regan.

“How the mighty have fallen.” Visha drawled.

“If I know Regan, she won’t stay fallen for long,” I said drily.

“Oh, she’ll crawl back up out of the gutters, no doubt,” Visha agreed. “It’ll take her a while though. And in the meantime, we can all enjoy her suffering.”

“Good afternoon, girls.” It was Professor Rodriguez. For once his dark hair was neatly combed. There were no patches on the dark brown corduroy jacket he wore either. He looked at me, his gaze softening slightly. “Miss Pendragon, Miss Shen, Miss Vaidya. I wanted to wish you all luck today.”

“Thank you, Professor,” Florence said, smiling brightly. “I’m looking forward to seeing more of you next year in Intermediate Alchemy.”

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