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I gave a dry laugh. “I have no talents. Now, Florence Shen on the other hand, she can ride a dragon. You should have saved her, not me.”

He didn’t flinch. “We tried to save you both. Florence isn’t lost, not yet.”

“You don’t know that. What else would you call it when Viktor has her?”

“There is always hope, Regan.”

“That’s bullshit,” I said evenly. “And you know it.”

“I know we want to protect you, Kage and I,” he said quietly. “We brought you here to keep you safe.”

“Why?” I demanded. “Because Kage thinks he owes me that?” I thought of what Viktor had claimed—that Kage and I were mates. I closed my eyes. Whatever I had felt for Kage Tanaka had been a dream. That dream was dead now.

“Go away,” I said tiredly. “I need to sleep.”

He hesitated. “Terrible things have happened to you. Things you didn’t deserve. But you still have the right to live—and to be happy.” I gave him a sour look but said nothing. His gaze was steady. “It’s true, Regan. Don’t let Viktor steal that away. That’s exactly what he wanted.”

It was so easy for him to say. “You know what? Go fuck yourself, Lysander.” I turned over in the bed and pulled the quilt over my head. I heard footsteps. Then the latch clicked. “Go away, go away, go away,” I whispered, tears pricking my eyes. But in my heart, I wish he’d stayed. I didn’t want to be touched. I didn’t want to be looked at. But my mind was a stupid, contradictory thing. Deep down, I didn’t really want to be alone.

I heard a faint shuffling sound. I pushed the quilt off and jerked upright, looking toward the door. But it was still closed. Footsteps padded closer. I looked down at the floor. Blake’s fluffin stood there, looking as if he’d been there the entire time. He was so small. Mostly fur. His tail was nearly as long as his whole body; it was a deep reddish-orange. But the fur on his chest, just under his head, was a creamy white—like a ruff of snow. It looked impossibly soft. His eyes were huge and round. They gleamed gold, reminding me of a dragon’s. The animal blinked at me.

“How did you—” I stopped. What did it matter?

But I didn’t tell him to go away. I leaned back against the bed. I really did feel exhausted. The fluffin and I stared at one another. Then, after a moment, he hopped onto the bed with a little thump. He stood by my feet, looking at me for a long time, his head tilted slightly. Then he padded a little closer and sat down beside my leg, near enough that I could feel his warmth through the blanket. The pressure against my burns might have hurt, but it didn’t. It felt … oddly nice. The warmth increased, like a heating pad.

The fluffin stared up at me. I was suddenly scared to move, afraid I might frighten the little thing away. A few more moments passed. The little creature didn’t look away.

“Do you want something?” I whispered. Slowly, I lifted my hand. I let my fingers drop to the fluffin’s fur very gently. I stroked. His fur was dense and silky. I patted him again, a little more confidently. His eyes half-closed. I felt him start to purr, his body rumbling with contentment like a cat’s. The sound was incredibly gratifying. Something inside my chest untightened just a little.

I slid down the bed, curling my legs around the fluffin very carefully and resting my head on the pillow. I stroked the warm, soft fur. The purring sound had changed. It still wasn’t loud, more of a hum. The steady, soothing vibrations seemed to sink into my bones. My eyelids felt heavy.

I kept moving my fingers gently over the fluffin’s fur, slowly and carefully. I had a pet once, a long time ago. I’d loved it so much I hadn’t wanted to let it out of my sight. But I was young, and no one had taught me how to take care of an animal. It had died. And it had been my fault.

Tears slid down my face. I looked into the fluffin’s golden eyes. “I’m sorry.”

His little tongue darted out, pink and sweet. It brushed against my hand. The feeling was strange, rough, a little like sandpaper, but not unpleasant. The humming sound deepened. I closed my eyes and exhaled shakily. It felt like the first real breath I’d taken in days. The fluffin pressed his warm little body closer. A strange, bright thought surfaced in my mind. Persis and I, chasing each other in the snow. The image didn’t hurt.

My eyelids felt heavier. I’d been fighting sleep for so many nights. The nightmares had been so bad. But now, the fluffin’s hum wrapped around my fears and smoothed them all away. I thought of the pain I’d seen on Lysander’s face. The inexplicable way he seemed to care. Why did he care? I thought of the wolf, catching me in his jaws as I fell, his teeth so sharp and yet somehow so gentle.

The room started to blur at the edges. Outside, the waves crashed harmlessly against the shore. For the first time since I’d left the fortress, I drifted into sleep, my palm still sunk into the fluffin’s coat. And as I drifted, I let myself realize something I must have known for days: there was a wolf standing guard outside my door.

Chapter 36

FLORENCE

I’d had a pretty good life. It hadn’t been long enough, short by blightborn and highblood standards. But it had been a life full of love. I clung to those memories now the way I might have clung to a piece of wood in a stormy ocean, refusing to be swept under, refusing to drown.

My father’s voice when he’d read stories to me. The smell of tea steeping in our kitchen. The look on my mother’s and father’s faces as they’d watched each other when they’d thought I wasn’t looking. My mother’s laugh. Her stubbornness. Her brilliance. The way she’d risen in her career—and would probably keep rising. Her unquenchable thirst for knowledge. I hoped she’d always have that. I hoped books and learning would still be a comfort to her when I was gone.

I thought of Bloodwing that first day. How adoringly I’d looked up at the towers. How excited I’d been to go to the very best school in the realm. I’d been so nervous, so eager to prove I belonged there, so afraid someone would find out I didn’t. Now I knew the truth. Bloodwing was my home because I’d claimed it. No one could take it away from me, not even highbloods. I’d grown into myself there. I’d made the very dearest of friends.

Medra’s face rose in my mind. I pictured her infectious grin. I thought of her stubbornness and her impossible courage. I’d met her that first day and thought she’d soon be running with the most popular students at the school. I’d known she was special, that she’d stand out wherever she went. She wasn’t like me, not at all. But she’d chosen me. We’d chosen each other. She loved me like a sister, and I loved her. I was so proud of her. So proud of her bravery. The way she never, ever gave up. I wished I could tell her that. I had to hope she knew.

Naveen. He’d left us so soon, that very first year. He’d been sweet and kind and funny. He’d loved music and … well, maybe he’d loved me. I would never know what might have been. He was gone, and that door had closed before I’d had a chance to even peek behind it.

Nyxaris. I’d been so afraid of him. But he and Medra had given me a second chance at life. If it hadn’t been for them, I’d have died that night in the courtyard. But because of them, I’d had an extra year. A year to learn, a year to love. A year to fly. I remembered the first time I’d climbed onto Nyxaris’s back. My legs had been shaking. My heart had been stuttering. My hands had been so sweaty. I’d been certain I was going to fall off and die. But I hadn’t. I’d learned. Nyxaris had taught me, and together we’d soared.

We’d stopped a city from being destroyed. We’d done that, he and I. My dragon and I, his rider. We’d saved hundreds of lives. People were out there now who might not have lived through that night if we hadn’t done what we’d done. And then there was the field. That terrible moment when I thought I’d lost him. And then the burst of light as he had returned to me and changed into the man I loved. He’d looked at me with reverence in his eyes, as if I were something sacred and beautiful and pure.