Page 57 of The Bond That Burns

But the problem was, she just had. I knew she’d do it again, too. Over and over.

CHAPTER 13 - MEDRA

I sat on the bench at one of the House Drakharrow tables in the refectory, stirring my oatmeal absently. Across from me, Visha tore into a loaf of bread, buttering slice after slice with abandon.

I glanced at the entrance, hoping Florence would appear. Finally, I gave up. I needed to vent to someone. I knew it was a risk talking to blunt-as-a-brick Visha but I went for it.

“He’s insufferable, you know that?”

“Who?” Visha asked, speaking around her mouthful of bread. “Blake? What’s he done now?”

“I walked into the common room last night and there he was with some girl draped all over him and his tongue half-way down her throat, right in the middle of everyone.”

Visha’s lips quirked into a smirk. “You mean Camilla?”

“I didn’t ask her name,” I muttered, stabbing my bowl of cold oats with the spoon as if they’d personally offended me.

“I only know because everyone’s talking about it. Regan’s pissed of course. She still thinks Blake belongs to her.” Visha eyed me. “Camilla’s been sniffing around Blake since last year. Curvy, big doe eyes, dumb as a rock. A classic pick. He was probably just trying to make you jealous.”

“That sounds about right,” I said, frowning as I remembered the image of the girl sitting on Blake’s lap, wriggling her ass all over him. The picture was burned into my brain.

Visha leaned forward, resting her hand on her chin. “The real question is, why does it bother you? Don’t tell me you actually care what Blake does. Are you jealous?”

“Jealous? Of course not,” I snapped, feeling my cheeks heat up. “I couldn’t care less what Blake does—or who he does it with.”

“Good.” Visha sat back, grabbed an orange from a bowl and started peeling it.

“Good?” I asked cautiously.

“Right. Then there’s no problem. It’s good you’re not jealous.”

I narrowed my eyes, pretty sure she was being sarcastic. “I’m just pointing out how ridiculous he is. One moment he’s lording it over me like he owns me, body and soul, and the next, he’s...”

I stopped. I could hear myself. Whiny and petulant. Visha was right. Why did I care? I shouldn’t have been jealous. Yet clearly I was. And it was driving me insane.

“Letting off some steam with a willing lackey?” Visha shrugged. “Sounds like Blake. At least,” she corrected. “The old Blake. I mean, Blake before he and Regan were forced together. And before you came along.”

“I don’t care,” I insisted. “It’s just... so vulgar. That’s all. It was in poor taste. He’s the House Leader.”

Visha grinned, her white teeth flashing. “Sure, Pendragon. Whatever you say. You know, if Blake is really open for business, maybe I’ll give it a go.”

I nearly choked. “You?”

“Sure. He’s hot, right?” She shrugged. “I bet he’s even hotter between the sheets. I like to try new things. You know that.”

I stared at her, trying to wipe away the new image that had sprung into my mind of Blake lying naked on a white bed sheet, his arms folded behind his head as he gave me a cocky grin. “Yes, but...”

Visha snapped her fingers at me. “You have a serious problem, Pendragon.”

“Oh?” I said, a little coldly. “And what’s that?”

She laughed loudly. “You damn well know what it is. Youdocare. You need to make up your mind. Either you want him or you don’t. Stop stringing him along.”

I gasped. “Stringing him along? I am not stringing him along, Visha.”

“To a highblood, you are. You’re his source. You’ll barely give him blood. And he wants more than blood from you, doesn’t he?” She gave me a knowing look that made me blush. “Yeah, he does. I thought so. I don’t know exactly what went on between you two last year, but he liked you enough then to cut Regan out of the triad, to stand up to his uncle, to call me in to save your ass during the Consort Games.” She paused. “Shall I go on?”

“Please don’t,” I said sourly. “Next you’ll be making him sound like a great guy.”

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