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Kage glanced up at where Nyxaris was still peering through the ceiling. “Tell the dragon to follow.”

“I think he’d follow even if I didn’t tell him,” I said shakily.

You are correct.

Kage shifted Regan gently against his chest, and we walked away from the rubble.

CHAPTER 25

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You look happy,” I observed, tousling Pendragon’s hair. “I never knew you hated Kage so much.”

She looked at me in surprise. “I don’t hate Kage …” Then she saw my grin. “Why, you—” she exclaimed, punching me playfully on the arm. “I’m happy Florence isn’t going to be trapped in a loveless arrangement, that’s all.”

Loveless. The word hung in the air between us for a moment.

“So my place or yours?” Pendragon finally said.

“If Florence comes back and doesn’t find you, will she be, you know, mad or hurt or worried?”

“So much concern for Florence tonight,” she teased. “Who knew so much softness was hiding under that hard exterior?”

I felt my cheeks heat. “She’s your friend, so she’s under my protection.”

Pendragon smiled. “I know. And I love that. Anyways, Florence should be fine. She’ll know I’m with you if I’m not in our room.” She laughed. “She’ll probably stay up all night working on her essay. It’s all she could talk about when we were leaving.”

“Good. Come to mine, then.” I slung my arm around her shoulders as we walked down the hall, then pulled her in tighter and kissed the top of her head.

“What was that for?”

“For being you,” I said gruffly. “I missed you.”

“We see each other almost every day,” she said with a breathless laugh, but she looked pleased.

I tucked her hand into the crook of my elbow as we walked down the quiet corridors, the ballroom music fading into the background. Every few steps, Pendragon would nudge my hip playfully with hers. I’d answer by brushing my knuckles down the inside of her wrist.When we reached the Drakharrow Tower, I pulled her up the stairs, taking them two at a time, her laughter trailing behind me.

Inside, I shrugged out of my jacket, throwing it onto a chair, and turned back towards her.

Our eyes met. My hand rose, brushing a curl from her cheek. She leaned into the touch, as I traced the dusting of freckles along her jaw. When our mouths found each other, the world shrank away. There was nothing but this—our lips and the intake of breath. Pendragon’s palms flattened over my chest while I angled closer, tasting the faint tang of wine still lingering on her lips. I nipped, featherlight, at her lower lip. She sighed, parting her mouth, inviting me in. Heat flared between us. I cradled the back of her head, threading my fingers through the mass of red curls as I drew her nearer. Our bodies aligned, pressing together with eagerness. I kicked the door shut behind us with my heel.

“Lock it,” she breathed.

I grinned, moving to slide the latch home. No interruptions. Then I was back, holding her, feeling her hands fumble for the buttons of my shirt. She made quick work of it, her palms leaving traces of heat wherever they touched me. Then she dragged my shirt free from my trousers, her nails scraping greedily over my stomach.

I shivered. “Bloodmaiden, Pendragon.”

“Say my name.”

“Your name?”

“Yes. My real name.” Her green eyes gleamed playfully.“Just once.”

I remembered when she’d told me not to call her by her given name. I’d respected it. Pendragon had taken on a life of its own. I’d come to love the sound, the taste of the word.

“Medra,” I breathed against her lips. I kissed the syllables along the curves of her throat. “Medra, there is nothing I won’t do for you. Nothing I won’t give you.”

There was more I wanted to say—three small words specifically. But I was scared. Afraid I’d overwhelm her. Afraid she wouldn’t say them back. Most of all, afraid she’d run.