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I walked over and shut the storage room door with a sigh, then turned to the desk and gingerly tossed the apple into the wastebas-ket. “Right,” I murmured.

I started closing books and stacking them, pushing loose parchment into piles. I’d get Dani to sort through everything, but I figured I could at least get started. Then I’d move it all onto the boardroom table, and she could figure out if the books belonged back in the school library or Rodriguez’s personal collection.

My hand paused on an open book containing an illuminated manuscript. The chapter heading had been beautifully illustrated with gold leaf and colorful pigment. Tiny stars and crescent moons hid in the margins alongside small dragons, though the dragons looked more like sea horses to me. Whoever had done the illustration had obviously never seen a real dragon before. I glanced at the title. The Prophecy of the Pure Maiden.

Strange title. Was it a children’s story of some kind? Curiosity won. I traced the first line lightly with a manicured fingertip. “Thrice defiant and thrice bound by blood …”

Probably not a children’s story. On second thought, the lines were arranged more like a poem than a paragraph. I wasn’t much of a poetry fan, so I moved to close the book when another line popped out at me. “And in her hands shall lie the fate of many realms …”

I frowned. Ominous. I wound up reading the whole page.

Thrice defiant and thrice bound by blood, she walks where others cannot tread. And in her hands shall lie the fate of many realms, for the Veil shall be sustained by her dying or undone by her living, and the world shall not endure nor the tyrant be defeated should she refuse the call. You will know her, for the dragon has marked her and called her his own. The marked maiden shall offer the blood of the four …

Well, shit. And here I thought being headmistress a second time was bad. Whoever this pure maiden was, I felt a little sorry for her. I also doubted she was all that pure. The book had probably been written by a naïve male scribe who believed virginity was the most precious thing a woman could ever possess. Gross. Not only was this poor woman apparently supposed to be a virgin, but it sounded a lot like she was meant to die. Why the hell had Rodriguez been reading such weird things, anyhow? I snapped the book shut and stacked it on top of the others. Still, the words lingered in my mind. Thrice defiant. Sounded a little familiar.

Then it snapped into place. The Veil. The Veil shall be sustained by her dying or undone by her living.

Of course Rodriguez would think this was about Medra. He’d probably convinced himself the entire thing was a map. And now he and Medra had both gone off on this dwarven quest. Poor fucking Medra. Pity rose in me so unexpectedly I had to sit down. Had I just read her death sentence? Did she know about this prophecy? Considering Rodriguez’s propensity for a lack of tact, she probably did. The better question was … did Blake?

My heart sped up. I glanced at the clock on the wall: seven o’clock. They’d be long gone by now, so I had no way of telling Blake, but I wanted to do him that favor. I wanted him to stop Rodriguez and, yes, even save Medra if he could. I bit my lip … It was too late. What was that saying my mother used to quote so dismissively? The path to ruin runs with the blood of highbloods with good intentions. She wasn’t really a proponent of empathy.

I sighed and stood up, reaching for another book—just as Dani screamed. I dropped the book and ran out into the vestibule. Dani was half out of her chair, backed up against the wall, her face paper-white. I immediately saw the reason for her terror: The doors to the corridor were blocked. A pack of highbloods were spilling into the reception area. Not just students with a grievance—these people were infected. Their skin was sallow and mottled, and their veins were dark as black ink. The smell was what really hit me hard, rotten and sickly sweet. It brought back unfortunate memories of my cell, the tortures of Viktor’s lab. I shook my head to clear the recollection and gagged as Dani let out another shrill scream.

A highblood man, once handsome, now hollow-cheeked and withered, lurched forward with jerky limbs, reaching behind the desk, his nails scraping over the wood.

“Dani!” my voice rang out loudly. “My office. Move!”

Her eyes flashed to me, desperate and afraid. She was a sheep, I realized. And I was a wolf—I had to be. I felt a strange surge of pride in myself. I was a wolf. I could fucking do this.

“Move, Dani. Now,” I commanded.

She stumbled toward me, nearly tripping over her own chair just as the highblood man sprawled across her desk, fingers grasping for where the dwarven girl had just been standing. Dani slipped past me with a choked sob.

“Shut it behind you,” I shouted over my shoulder. “Lock it and barricade the door.” I caught her eyes widening. “That’s an order, Dani,” I snapped.

“Yes, Headmistress!” The door slammed, and I heard the scrape of furniture from her side.

I looked at the crowd of highbloods. At least they were slow-moving. My eyes flicked across the walls to the framed portraits of the board of directors. I was outnumbered and alone. No one would be awake yet. Dani had been painfully early, clearly wanting to make a good impression. No Kage, no Lysander—what an irony that this had happened the first day they took a break. At least they might be able to take a permanent vacation from Regan-guarding now. For one irrational moment, I almost wanted to shout their names. I thought of Kage—silver fur and lethal claws. I thought of Lysander—beautiful with that strange, drifting, deadly grace. But I’d had my chance. Now it was gone.

What a shitty second first day back.

At least I could save Dani. Maybe eating me would distract them and they’d forget about her. But I could take some of them out first. I reached for my weapon of choice and as the first infected high-bloods launched themselves at me, I swung.

Chapter 45

KAGE

Lysander and I moved through Bloodwing like wolves through a sleeping forest. The castle still hadn’t woken up. A few servants were out and about, sweeping halls and checking lamps. But most of the students were sleeping. Not Regan, though. No, our new headmistress had apparently decided to get an early start on her day. What a hard-working girl. It was almost like she’d realized lying in bed all day wasn’t going to cut it for her. Like she’d started to remember ambition could feel pretty damn good. I was proud of her, but also worried.

We’d left the Dragon Court about an hour ago after delivering the bad news. We’d watched Blake and Medra and their squad scramble into motion as they realized what had happened. We’d said our good-byes quickly and wished them luck. Then we went back to the Avari Tower to check on Regan. The Avari student we’d left supposedly guarding her door had stuttered out that she’d told him to stay put. When he’d seen our faces, he’d looked like he might piss himself.

Lysander’s fist had snapped out and hit the wall. The stone had cracked. The sound echoed down the hallway, and the Avari boy’s face had gone white. I eyed my consort. He hadn’t spoken since we’d left the tower.

“You all right?”

He shook his head. “Don’t ask that.”

I knew he’d been dealing with dreams of his sister. He didn’t tell me much; I only knew that she was alive and that things were bad. I also knew that if there were anything we could do for her—anything at all—Lysander wouldn’t have hesitated to tell me. I would have gone with him in a heartbeat. So yeah, it must have been bad. I hadn’t asked a lot of questions, but we’d comforted each other the way we always had.