Page 14 of The Bond That Burns

I tugged at my dress. Black wool, tight in the waist but loose in the skirt, with short sleeves. The skirt was cut at the knee and I wore tight black leggings underneath. The sleeves of the dress bore the House Drakharrow motto along each one, written in a beautiful script that stood out in red thread. Everything about the outfit felt suffocating. Once again I was branded with the highblood mark.

I touched a hand to my hair. I’d pulled the long red curls into a low braid, but a few loose strands were clinging to my skin. I pushed one of the windows open to let a cool sea breeze drift in. A little better.

The knock I’d been dreading came, but Blake didn’t wait for an answer. The door simply opened and he strode right in, as if he owned not just the room, but everything within it.

He was every bit the highblood prince tonight—haughty and devastatingly handsome. Over the summer, his pale gold hair had grown just past his chin, enough to sweep it back andsecure it with a leather strip at the nape of his neck. The style suited him, baring the sharp angles of his face and lending him an air of authority. The style made him look more intimidating, revealing the sharp angles of his face. He’d taken to going a few days between shaving over the summer. He hadn’t quite grown a beard, but the stubble did nothing to soften his features.

Now his lips curved into a sardonic smile and I glimpsed his fangs.

I’d set up two chairs by the fire, making sure to leave a foot of space in between.

We’d done this before. Once a week, all summer. It was the only time I had to see him, thank the gods. My meals were brought to my room. A servant escorted me for walks on the grounds once a day. And after the first few days of trying to get me to talk, Blake left me alone.

Our little feeding dates had become a regular pattern. But I wasn’t planning on continuing this way forever.

I sat down in the high-backed chair and stretched my arm stiffly over the armrest.

“Well? Let’s get this over with,” I snapped.

Blake raised an eyebrow, but took a seat in the chair beside me, his movements slow and deliberate. He wanted this to take as much time as possible. He wanted to drag things out, provoke me. I gritted my teeth but said nothing, just stared straight ahead into the fire.

He took my wrist, his fingers curling around it with a surprising gentleness that only made me feel angrier. The warmth of hishand was jarring. His thumb brushed against my pulse and for a moment, I felt my treacherous heart stutter.

“This would be easier,” he said, leaning towards me, his voice low. “If you’d stop pretending you hate it.”

My head snapped towards him, fire flaring in my breast. “Don’t fucking flatter yourself. If I could, I’d let you starve.”

His grip tightened. Not enough to hurt. But enough to remind me of his strength.

“This doesn’t mean I forgive you,” I said, hearing my voice tremble slightly. “Or that I will ever, ever trust you.”

Blake’s gaze slid over me. “And this,” he said, sounding at once bored and haughty as he lifted my wrist a little. “Doesn’t mean I care.”

“How could you ever think I would want this?” I hissed. “Don’t ever forget I wish I could just let you rot.”

Blake froze, his lips hovering an inch from my wrist. “Oh, I won’t forget, Pendragon. But we both know what would happen if you tried. You’re not stupid enough to test me.”

My lips curled. “Maybe I should.”

“You won’t,” he countered, his voice a low growl. “Because you know exactly what would happen. I’d tell my uncle the truth. That you have absolutely no control over that dragon.”

“You don’t even know that for a fact,” I retorted. “What makes you think Viktor would even believe you?”

He smirked. “Just face it, Pendragon. You’re helpless without me. I’m your only hope at bluffing your way through this.”

“That’s what you’d like to think, isn’t it?” I spat. “I think the first thing I’ll have Nyxaris do when he returns is burn you to a crisp. No more feedings. Problem solved.”

He laughed. “If you could have, you’d have done it already. So why haven’t you? Because you have no control. And if Viktor finds out...”

I flushed angrily. “Why are you even still here? Oh, that’s right. Because youneedme. So get on with it. Drink already.”

Blake glared but didn’t reply. Just lifted my wrist a little higher and moved his mouth to my skin.

The bite was sharp. His fangs pierced my skin with practiced ease. Pain lanced through my arm, followed by the strange, nauseating pull of the blood leaving my body. Not for the first time, I thought of the girl at the Drained Rose. I shuddered. How could anyone ever find this pleasurable?

Blake paused, as if he had felt my tremor.

I ignored him, staring at the fire and refusing to even look at him. Refusing to acknowledge the inherent intimacy of what he was doing to me.

---