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A flash as hot as dragon fire exploded behind my eyes. I screamed, clawing at my face. Then it was over nearly as soon as it began. The fire within guttered out like a spark in a rainstorm. I staggered, fists bracing on the stones, determined to test myself. I called for wings. For scales. For talons. Anything. There was no answer. No itching under my skin. No fire in my pulse. My arms were flesh. My back, simple bone. Slowly, I straightened and stood. Laughter ripped from my throat. I felt light, giddy. Like iron bindings had been torn away from around my ribs.

The Dragon Court was silent. The place where Vorago had stood was empty. The massive sandstone statue was gone, only a swirling pillar of rubygold dust spiraled upward before being whisked away in the wind.

I was free. Truly free.

I turned towards the castle and the long walk back to Pendragon, the red ashes of an ancient dragon still drifting in the air behind me.

CHAPTER 31

BLAKE

Now

Cade’s fingers tightened around Pendragon’s wrists. I could hear his heartbeat stuttering, could smell the rot spreading like coils of corruption through his veins. Any second now and he’d turn. He’d lunge for the warmest throat within reach. He’d sink his teeth into Pendragon’s skin and then … and then every pulse of blood he took would be blood I’d poured into her veins earlier tonight myself. My own gift, my own weakness.

I’d gladly given my blood to keep her alive—but the exchange had hollowed me. Even now my limbs felt a half second slower. When I’d fought back in the hall, my movements had felt sluggish, like moving through water. My pulse thudded in my ears. And with it came a faint prickle of something like curiosity.

No. I slammed the sensation back. You’re gone. Dead and buried.

Viktor watched me like a vulture scenting a wounded animal. “You feel it, don’t you? You smell the taint on him.”

“Let her go,” I growled, trying to focus on Viktor and Pen-dragon instead of the sudden confusion in my head. “What do you want?”

“Finally, the right question.” My uncle leaned forward, his red eyes gleaming. “We have purged this school. The plague is gone from here—save for what you see.”

“You slaughtered everyone,” I said bluntly. “Infected or not.”

“We took no chances. Bloodwing is safe. The best and the brightest of the highblood race live within these walls. Our children, our future.”

Around me I could practically feel Quinn, Silvio, and the other Bloodguards stand up a little straighter with pride. Pathetic.

“Of course, one I was too late to save. But he, too, shall play his part.” Viktor glanced over at Cade. “Tell me, my boy, how do you feel?”

I looked at Cade, my blood going cold. His eyes were turning a milky white. Black veins were branching across his throat.

“Strange,” Cade whispered. He cleared his throat, a gurgle reaching his lips. “I feel strange, my lord. Perhaps I should see a healer.”

Pendragon’s face was as white as a sheet. She was holding very, very still.

Viktor smiled. “Soon, very soon.”

“Get him the fuck away from her. You can see what’s happening as well as I,” I shouted at my uncle. “I swear to all that’s holy, I swear by every drop of blood in Sangratha, I will do nothing for you, nothing, if harm befalls her. Do you hear me?”

Viktor looked back at me, and I knew both of us were remembering the last time I’d come at him. There I’d stood, thinking I’d won, blood running off my scales. And then? He’d filleted my eye from its socket. The phantom pain of that wound pulsed behind my temple. If I attacked him here, now, in the state I was in, he’d do worse. Pendragon would watch me fall. Then, where would that leave her and Theo?

Viktor smiled as if he’d known exactly what I was about to say, then snapped his fingers. “Hold the girl. Bind the Avari boy. Quickly, now.”

Quinn slipped in as if playing a part she’d rehearsed, jerking Pendragon out of Cade’s grasp as two Bloodguards stepped forward quickly, iron shackles already in hand. They clanged them shut around Cade’s wrists just as he lunged at them with a wet snarl.

“What fucking games are you playing at, Uncle?” I demanded. “End him before he kills one of your own.”

Viktor’s mouth curved. “Not so fast. A preview tends to sharpen the mind. Quinn, be a good girl and fetch our prisoner.”

She nodded eagerly, moving to one of the doors leading off into the kitchens, and reemerging a moment later, dragging a woman by the wrist.

“Professor!” Pendragon cried. The instructor’s purple velvet coat was ripped, and her long, brightly colored hair was matted with blood. She stumbled with a groan as Quinn jerked her roughly.

“Allenvale?” I turned to face Viktor. “Really, a teacher of alchemy? What’d she do to you? Brew a tonic you didn’t like? So you’re torturing even highblood professors now?”