Page 154 of The Bond That Burns

Florence gave me a watery smile. I knew she’d been torn about what she felt for Naveen. He’d wanted to move from friends to something more. Would he have been the right person for Florence? The one to make her happy?

I tried to picture Florence with a partner, but it was no use. The problem was, in my mind, no one was good enough for her. She was a shining star. Brilliant, beautiful, and the sweetest person I knew.

“Do you still want to go tonight?” I asked. “Or should we stay in our room and make hot chocolate and read books? And by books, I mean talk, of course.”

But I never did find out how she’d have answered. There was a knock at the door.

I glanced at Florence, then crossed the room to open it.

Blake stood on the other side. He was dressed sharply, all in black, his waistcoat embroidered with red silk dragons. He looked handsome and regal as always, but there was something different about his posture. His usual cocky grin had beenreplaced with a sheepish smile. Behind him stood Visha and Theo, both equally well-dressed.

“I know you wanted to go with Florence tonight,” Blake said quickly. “But we were thinking, maybe we could all go together? As friends.”

“Vaughn and Lace are meeting us there,” Theo said, speaking up from behind his cousin.

I raised my eyebrow. “Students from different houses attending a ball together? I don’t know. Sounds scandalous if you ask me.” I turned to Florence who giggled. “Florence?”

She stepped forward, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, and smiled warmly at the trio. “I think that sounds very nice.”

“Good. It’s settled then,” Visha declared. “Let’s go and get this party started.”

Theo rolled his eyes. “As if you and Lace will even be at the party for long.”

“We might be,” she said innocently. “I told Evander I’d save him a dance.”

“What does he think of Lace?” I asked curiously.

“I don’t know,” Visha said nonchalantly. “Haven’t asked. Don’t plan to.”

I met Blake’s eyes and he grinned as if to say, “Typical Visha.”

Florence moved back into the room to fetch a soft white shawl she’d left draped over the back of a chair. As she wrapped it around herself, I noticed Blake’s eyes lingering on me.

“I have something for you.” He held a small black box out to me. “A gift.”

I took the box with some trepidation. “Blake, you didn’t have to get me anything.”

“Please,” he interrupted, his voice unusually hesitant. “Just...open it.”

I bit my lip, but lifted the lid. Inside was a pendant—a dragon carved in onyx, wings flared as if in mid-flight. “Nyxaris,” I breathed, immediately seeing the likeness.

“Do you like it?” Blake asked. “No house colors. No insignia. Just...your dragon.”

I understood what he was trying to say. That wearing the pendant wasn’t a claim. He wasn’t trying to mark me or label me. I knew he and Nyxaris didn’t even like each other, to put it mildly.

“It’s beautiful,” I murmured. “Thank you.”

“May I?” he asked, gesturing to the box.

I hesitated, suddenly aware of the intimacy of the moment, of the others watching us. But slowly, I nodded and turned around, lifting some strands of hair off my neck.

Blake stepped closer, his breath brushing against my skin. His fingers were warm and steady as he fastened the necklace around my throat. Even the brief touch of his skin against mine was enough to send a shiver down my spine. I closed my eyes for a moment.

“There,” he murmured.

I turned back to face him and his gaze held mine, the tension between us crackling.

“Perfect,” he said softly. “Black for Nyxaris. But you bring the fire. You make even the darkness shine. Even dragon fire can’t compete with the way you burn, Pendragon.”

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