Page 26 of On Wings of Blood

I hoped my face didn’t reveal how vomity I felt as I smiled back at her.

We reached the refectory–a sweeping, vaulted hall that exuded grandeur. High, ribbed ceilings rose dramatically over our heads, supported by a series of stone columns that marched down the length of the room. Light filtered in through rows of large, arched windows set high in the walls.

Outside, I glimpsed tall trees filled with crisp autumn leaves in hues of yellow, orange, and red.

Stepping into the refectory, a roar of student voices flowed over me along with the clatter of cutlery and dishes and, in the distant background, the sound of the wind rustling through dry leaves and the waves on the sea. If it wasn’t for the vampires, I decided in that instant, Bloodwing Academy might have been, well, beautiful.

The walls of the hall were furnished with dark tapestries. Two large ones hung on each wall to my right and two my left, each emblazoned with a different motto.

I read each one.

“Ex Sanguine, Unitas.”From blood, unity.

“Ex Sanguine, Virtus.”From blood, strength.

“Ex Sanguine, Legatum.”From blood, legacy.

“Ex Sanguine, Potentia.”From blood, power.

At the far end of the hall was a massive tapestry of gold and red featuring the Bloodwing crest, alongside four smaller ones that I assumed depicted the symbols of the four houses and their crests. I couldn’t make out their details from this distance.

But it wasn’t what was on the walls that most concerned me at that moment. I sniffed hungrily and my stomach rumbled so loudly that Regan laughed.

Long, heavy wooden tables stretched across each side of the room, with a wide aisle in between. Each one was heaped with a lavish spread of food. I spotted platters of crisp bacon, buttery fried potatoes, and golden sausages alongside trays of fluffy eggs, and bowls filled to the brim with muffins, scones, and tarts. Alongside the hot foods sat trays of brightly colored fruit. Deep-red pomegranates, glistening green grapes, and piles of ripe plums were placed beside plates of crusty fresh bread. And those were only the foods I recognized. Many I had never seen before in my life. I watched as a girl picked up a slice of a strange fruit. It was bright red with small black seeds. As she took a bite, the juice ran down her chin.

Large silver pitchers of fresh juices had been placed along the tables. To my relief, I saw many students holding steaming cups of a familiar dark brown brew.

“Thank the Bloodmaiden for kava,” Regan said from beside me. She raised her eyebrows. “Would you like a cup?”

“Kava? Is that what you call it? We use another word for it where I’m from. But yes, I do. Absolutely. I’d kill for some... kava.” The word sounded strange on my tongue at first, but I knew I’d get used to it quickly with the amount I planned to drink. I wondered if I could brew my own kava back in my room.

Regan was weaving her way through the large room, obviously with a clear destination in mind.

“Let me introduce you to everyone,” she said as she finally stopped at a table that was nearly full of students. “This is where you’ll be sitting. With the very finest of House Drakharrow.”

I looked down and my eyes connected with a pair of gray ones, steely and challenging.

For a moment, Blake Drakharrow’s expression was pure disdain. Then a camouflage of indifference took over.

I waited expectantly for him to pat the seat next to him and smile up at Regan. Maybe even put on a display of affection solely for my benefit.

But instead, he just lowered his head back to his food and ignored us.

“Well, you’ve already met our brilliant leader, Blake,” Regan said brightly.

“Not the leader yet,” quipped a boy with dark blond hair and a mouthful of eggs.

Regan frowned. “No jesting, Theo.” She looked at me. “Theo is Blake’s cousin. He thinks he can get away with shows of blatant disrespect.”

Theo clutched his heart dramatically. “Disrespect? Me? Say it isn’t so. Will my beloved cousin banish me?” He looked down the table expectantly at Blake, but there was a mocking grin on his handsome face. I could see the family resemblance. But where Blake’s features were lean and dangerous, Theo’s were more filled out and, dare I say it, almost pleasant.

Blake’s only response was to toss a muffin at Theo’s head. It bounced off and landed on the floor.

I pitied the servants who had to clean up after all of the food fights these entitled highbloods must have.

Theo howled with laughter. “You cut me to the quick, good cuz. Wounded! I am wounded, I say.”

“If only I’d wounded you in the mouth,” Blake muttered.

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