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“What’s that?”

“Stop looking out to sea like it holds the answers you need. It doesn’t.”

I stared after Kage as he moved towards the tower door. Like a fool, I almost called after him. Then he was gone.

I stood in the snow, in the dark, a while longer, trying to figure out why the fuck I’d just made an unbreakable Blood Vow with a wolf.

CHAPTER 6

BLAKE

The latch of my door clicked behind me. I walked down the hall, yawning and trying to roll the tension out of my shoulders, then descended the stairs leading down to the common room.

The place was almost empty. Most students had already left to grab breakfast in the refectory. The fire had been stoked recently. I sniffed appreciatively: cedar logs. They were expensive, so they were only used in the highblood towers. Only the best for the best, my uncle liked to say when I was growing up. As if blightborn couldn’t appreciate a scent just as easily.

Some plates of fresh rolls and carafes of kava, tea, and juice had been placed on a table for students who were too tired, busy, or hungover to make it to the refectory in time for a real meal.

I glanced around. The place was my second home. More of a home than my real home at this point. Weapons from past centuries were mounted on the walls between Drakharrow banners. The crest and motto of our precious bloodline were everywhere: on cushions, tapestries, even carved into the arms of the chairs we sat in. As if any of us needed that many reminders of who we were. Sanguine Vincti. Bound by blood.

I shook my head. Kind of ironic when my socalled bonded was over in House Avari right now. I doubted she considered herself bound to me. That headstrong girl would do what she liked—just as she always did. Nonetheless, thinking of Pendragon sent a warm feeling soaring through my chest. Headstrong or not, she was mine. Though, I’d finally learned to stop saying it to her face quite so often.

A few blightborn students sat in corners, sipping tea and reading books, studying up before classes began. The highbloods were all probably either in the refectory or drinking from their favorite thralls in their rooms. I’d recently decided that open feeding in the common room was gauche: Funny how quickly trends changed. My house had quickly gotten the message. This was the new way of things. Shape up or ship out.

Theo was sprawled on a red velvet couch by the fire, a book in his lap and a cup of steaming kava in one hand. He wore one of his favorite sweaters, black with gold thread at the cuffs, absurdly oversized and practically in tatters. It was a family heirloom of sorts. It had belonged to my father when he’d gone to school here.

I walked over and fell into an armchair across from my cousin.

Theo looked up. “You’re lucky. You just missed Regan.”

I raised a brow. “Really?”

He nodded. “Our new headmistress just came trotting through with her new squad of Bloodguards in tow,” he said making air quotes with his free hand.

I choked. “Bloodguards? Seriously? She couldn’t think of a better name?”

Theo looked thoughtful. “Good point. We should suggest she run a naming contest. Everyone can vote. There could even be a prize.”

“Right. I’m sure the blightborn students will love selecting a name for their new tormentors.” I frowned. “Who the hell are they, anyhow? Her guards, I mean?”

Theo studied me. He was careful not to let his gaze linger too long on my wasted eye. I appreciated what he was trying to do, but he needn’t have bothered trying to be tactful. Most students gawked openly and for far longer than was polite. I’d snarl at them, sometimes add a little display of fangs, and that usually was enough to send them screaming and scurrying. Was I a bastard for doing it to First Years? Sure. But honestly, it never got old. And serve them right for being so rude in the first place, right?

“You don’t know? They’re alumni. She called in most of Marcus’s old pals.”

I sat up straighter. “For fuck’s sake.”

“Quite a few from House Mortis, too.”

I shook my head. “I assume they left a trail of testosterone and shitty cologne behind them.” I sniffed, but fortunately all I could smell was the cedar smoke.

Theo wrinkled his nose. “Oh, they smelled worse than that. Think more of a training bag boiled in highblood sweat.”

I chuckled.

“Your exconsort is a real piece of work. Walking around like she owns this place.”

“Well, she basically does,” I pointed out.

“Bloodwing is bigger than just one person. It’s better than that, too,” Theo protested.