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“Is it so hard to believe?” His eyes were hard as he met mine. “I’ll give you a second to think about it.”

I did think. “Fuck.”

Medra pulled Nyxaris in and shut the door. “I think we should all sit down.” She sounded flustered—which wasn’t like her, but I didn’t blame her. We took seats around the fire. Medra and I sat side by side on the big red velvet couch, while Nyxaris sat back in my favorite armchair.

I tried not to stare at him. But I couldn’t help it. “You’re really a fucking dragon?”

“You really don’t intend to let your brain catch up to your mouth, do you?” he said mildly.

I choked. “I’m trying.”

He looked at me. “I wouldn’t have thought you of all people would find this hard to take in. We’re two of a kind.”

“Right,” I said, still unnerved and showing it. “Because I’m doing so well with all that.”

Pendragon refused to let us spiral. She leaned forward, eyes locked on Nyxaris’s face. “What happened to you after you were shot?”

His face clouded. “They hit me with Godsbane. Took a rough landing. Came down on the cliffs at the base of the Black Keep, where soldiers soon swarmed me. They’d obviously been waiting. They had ropes and chains.” Medra made a small, furious sound. “They started working to tie me down, pin my wings. I blacked out around then. When I came to, the Godsbane had worn off. They were still trying to fasten my chains.” The dragon looked amused.

“And then?” I asked.

He shrugged. “I snapped the chains. They ran—not fast enough. Guess they hadn’t expected me to wake up so soon.”

I cleared my throat. “Right.”

Nyxaris looked me up and down. “I take it the Vorago problem has been solved?”

My stomach clenched. “Yeah. We handled it.”

He raised a brow. “Did you, now?”

Pendragon was looking back and forth between us. “Can you two stop comparing whose is bigger?”

I choked. “What?”

“Just stop. Both of you, whatever this is. Stop it right now. Florence is gone.” She looked at Nyxaris, and I saw the anger flood her face. “What I don’t understand is why the hell you’re just sitting here.” Nyxaris’s whole body went still. “And yes, you might ask the same of me,” she said bitterly. “But in my case, well—”

I cleared my throat. “I’m having trouble … changing.”

Nyxaris eyed me. I waited for a smart remark or judgment. But all he said was “I see. That makes sense.”

I stared. “It does?”

He nodded. “What Vorago did to you was a complete violation. You were essentially soul-bound.” He was looking at me with curiosity now. “He’s really gone?”

“There’s nothing of Vorago left,” Pendragon said curtly. “I felt him die.”

He shot her an appraising look. “Impressive. I wasn’t sure your plan would work. I thought he’d die, but that Blake would, too.”

“Well, thanks a lot,” I remarked. I glanced at Pendragon. She looked pensive. I wondered if Nyxaris had passed his pessimistic thoughts on to her first. Either way I was glad she’d taken the chance.

“I wasn’t sure it would work either,” she admitted. “Theo’s blood-magic skills came in handy. Not to mention Neville.”

Nyxaris’s face froze. “The fluffin?” She nodded. His face was grim. “You asked why I haven’t left already. The fact of the matter is I don’t know precisely where to go—though, I do have some good guesses. Florence is already too far away for me to communicate with her.”

“You can’t …” She swallowed. “You can’t sense her at all?”

Nyxaris looked away, studying the fire like it was easier than looking at her. “No.”