Page 152
“So you gave me some of your own blood. To save me.” I took a step forward.
He snarled.
I stopped, closing my eyes briefly. “Well, it worked. Your blood did save me. More than once last night.”
For a moment, he looked surprised. “Small mercies.”
“You didn’t want this. I know you,” I said, my voice low.
He gave a mocking laugh. “You don’t know me, or you wouldn’t be standing there.”
I closed my eyes. My heart was tearing. My soul was tearing. “I have no choice.”
“You have a choice,” he said roughly. “There’s the door. Open it. Get out.”
“No. I can’t do that. And you know why.”
“No, I don’t. I don’t know why you’d choose to stand here after everything I’ve done—to you, to Veilmar. I’m a fucking murderer, Pendragon. My heart is black. My hands are stained with blood. Children’s blood,” he roared.
I trembled, but not from fear. “I’m not afraid of you.”
“Well, you fucking should be.” The words were almost a moan. “You should be. Because I can’t control this.” He paused.“Don’t you realize the only reason I’m even sitting here right now, talking to you like this is because Florence fucking shot me? Not that I blame her.” He side-eyed me.“What did she shoot me with, anyhow?”
“Emberfern. House Drakharrow used to use it to control dragon riders.”
He tipped his head back and chuckled. “Dragon riders. How fucking appropriate.”
“But you’re more than a rider,” I said stubbornly. “That’s your body, Blake. Vorago’s the one hitching a ride. You need to take control back from him. Before—”
“Before it happens again? Before I go berserk again?” His face turned flinty. “I won’t let that happen. I’ll die first.”
“I won’t let you die.” I took another small step towards him.
“Not another step,” he warned. “Or I swear to you, I will slide off this sill. We’ll see if I grow wings on the way down or not.”
I froze. “Fine. I’m not moving.”
He nodded.
“But if you jump, what makes you think I won’t jump right after you?”
He looked at me, and I saw the fear in his eyes. Good. So he was still capable of feeling that.
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“Wouldn’t I?” I said, my voice dangerously quiet. “You think I’d stay here in this fucked-up world without you?”
“This isn’t some romantic play, Pendragon,” he snapped. “This is life and death.”
“I’m not the one threatening to off myself by jumping out a window,” I cried. “Don’t you dare do that to me, Blake. Don’t you dare. You look me in the face. You take a good look right now and see what you’re doing to me.” My whole body was shaking. “You’re breaking my heart.”
He swallowed. “It’ll heal. It has to.”
“We’ll heal together.”
“There’s no way back from this, Pendragon. You have to know that. No one will ever forgive me for what I’ve done. If I stay, I’ll be a shadow on your life. Staining your soul.”
“I don’t care,” I said stubbornly. “That is life. Shit happens. We have to deal with it. We have to try to atone. We can’t just run from it. You think I’m perfect? I’m not perfect, Blake. I’ve done horrible things, too. I’ve lost people I’ve loved because of my own stupidity.”
