Page 42 of The Bond That Burns

You have a dragon, Medra,she reminded me. Then her voice softened.You are stronger than you know. You have already survived what no one else could have. You are not alone.

I stared down at the blade. Her words were meant to be comforting. But they only reminded me of how much was at stake—not just for me but for everyone around me.

Nyxaris asked me if I’d want to bring the other dragons back,I murmured.But I didn’t know how to answer that. Would it even be right to try? What if the highbloods just enslaved them again?

How did they do that in the first place? You need to find out. She paused.Do you trust him?

I don’t know,I said honestly.I want to.

Then start there. Her voice faded. She was gone.

I set the dagger down on the bedside table and lay back on my bed, staring up at the ceiling. Instead of stars, there was a red canopy over the bed, always reminding me of where I was.

This had started to happen more and more often. Orcades would be there one moment, gone the next. She was...less reliable. Her emotions swung sharply.

She’d put me off when I’d suggested we plan a way of setting her free. Now that we knew of what had happened the first time thanks to the ritual, I think she was afraid for my sake to have me try again. But I couldn’t stop thinking about it. She was fading. Changing. It was my fault. Just like Naveen. Both were my burden, my responsibility.

And so was Nyxaris.

Tomorrow I would start looking for answers. I wasn’t a prisoner anymore.

I was a student again.

CHAPTER 9 - BLAKE

The common room of Drakharrow Tower was already filled with noise when I descended the staircase the next morning.

The clamor of voices and laughter was like music to my ears.

My territory. My house. My rules.

I strolled into the center of the room, turning heads, making sure my presence was noticed.

A few of the newer highblood students glanced up and straightened, their eyes glancing over me nervously.

Good. That was how it should be. Respect through fear.

It was a lesson I had been taught growing up. It was a lesson Pendragon had to learn, sooner or later, no matter how stubborn she was.

I’d announced some changes this year. Now I saw the highbloods in my house had taken my recent orders to heart.

Thralls knelt at the feet of highblood students, their heads bowed, veins bared for feeding. Across the room, one of the more eager new first years, a highblood named Laurent, sharp-featured and wiry, was feeding openly.

As I walked past, he looked up at me, his mouth smeared with blood. Part of me was disgusted. But I hid my reaction. I chose not to use thralls, but I knew they were an accepted part of highblood life for almost everyone else.

I clapped him on the shoulder. “Enjoying breakfast?”

He smirked. “Always, House Leader.”

“Excellent.” I turned around slowly, scanning for my quarry. I’d told one of the Second Years to notify me as soon as Pendragon stepped out of her room. They hadn’t, so I assumed she had yet to emerge. If she’d already left, I’d be very upset with that Second Year.

But then footsteps rang out from the top of the staircase. I lifted my head and there she was.

She looked as if she hadn’t slept much. Her fiery hair was more touselled than usual. But she was still carrying herself with that damned rebelliousness I knew all too well.

The room went quiet for a moment as everyone noticed her. The few blightborn students who’d been in the common room had quickly fled as they’d taken in the atmosphere and I didn’t really blame them. I wasn’t about to allow anyone in my house to mess with them, but still, it was probably for the best that they didn’t witness this next part.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the dragon tamer herself,” I called loudly, ensuring everyone could hear me.

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