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I kissed her, right at the corner of her mouth. “Listen to me, the world can be terrible. But it can’t take everything. Not from you.”

“My aunt mentioned you, you know. Apparently Orcades told her you were charming.” Pendragon’s mouth twitched, which I knew was a good sign.

“Did she, now?” I drawled, trying to channel lovable arrogance in an attempt to make her laugh—which she did. “Excuse me? You find that comical? I am fucking charming, Pendragon.”

She laughed harder; the sound was like beautiful bells ringing.

I kissed her forehead. “There’s my girl.”

Her eyes squeezed shut. She pressed her face into my neck, breathing me in. I may have sniffed her hair a little. We stayed like that for a while. I rubbed my hand in slow circles over her spine.

Finally, she spoke. “Blake … are you scared?”

I held very still. “About tomorrow?”

“And all that comes after tomorrow.”

“We’ll be together. That’s all that matters.” I kissed her hair. “You want to go do something fun?”

She lifted her head a little and gave me a suspicious look. “You mean something dangerous?”

I grinned. “It’s me. So maybe a little. Come with me.” I helped her sit up, laced my fingers through hers, and led her to the door. We climbed the spiral stairs.

“We should have gone to class today,” Pendragon whispered, as if reading my thoughts. “We’ve probably missed so much.”

I snorted. “You really worried about your grades right now? Does that mean you’re bringing homework tomorrow?”

“Of course not,” she said, with dignity. “I’m considering it a field trip.”

I wanted to say she sounded a hell of a lot like Florence. I nearly asked her if she planned to write an essay about our travels when she got back, but I held my tongue. I pushed open the door to the rooftop. The wind hit us immediately, salty and refreshing. I watched Pendragon’s hair whip into a red storm around her head. She looked young, her green eyes wide and still bright from recently shed tears.

I stepped away from her and let my dragon rise completely. Heat surged in waves from beneath my skin. My body shifted, stretching and reshaping itself into something new and different. My wings unfurled, huge and red. And then there I was: an Inferni dragon on the top of the tower, crimson and immense.

“Holy fuck,” Pendragon whispered. But she didn’t step back.

I lowered my head, close enough that my dragon breath warmed her cheeks. Her eyes shone with excitement.

Blake.

I felt her voice inside me like a touch. I let out a low rumbling growl that vibrated through the stones. Get on. Let me show you the world, Pendragon.

She gave a glorious, breathtaking laugh, her mouth splitting wide. What is this—your idea of a romantic date?

I mean, kind of? But my answer didn’t matter much. She was already climbing up, her boots scraping gently against my scales as she grabbed, finding the ridges along my neck. She paused partway up. What is it? I asked, worried. Stuck?

Not stuck. Her voice sounded tentative. Can I … can I touch it? Your wing?

I held myself very still, thinking.

I never dared to ask Nyxaris, she added quickly. It’s all right if that would be … weird.

It’s not weird. Of course. You can touch me wherever you want.

I sensed her hand lifting slowly. Then I felt it. Her palm, settling against the membrane of my wing. A shiver rolled through me, quick and involuntary. It started at the base of my wing and rippled through my whole body.

Shit. I’m sorry. I felt her hand withdraw.

No, it’s fine. I exhaled. It felt … pretty fucking good, actually, I admitted.