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Lysander let out a shaky breath that was almost a sob.

“I love you both,” I went on. “I’m grateful for everything we had, no matter how short it was.” I forced a smile through my tears. “Every time you wouldn’t leave my room. Every time you walked me to my office. Every time you both looked at me like I was worth protecting.” My voice broke. “I didn’t know how much I needed you. How my heart had been waiting for you.”

Kage kissed me then—a sob on his lips as they met mine, hard and desperate. Lysander’s hands were in my hair. When Kage broke the kiss, Lysander’s lips were there to take their place. I watched the two men embrace, their lips entwine. I marveled one last time at the beauty of it.

We moved apart but together, clasping hands. Kage bent and hauled Catherine up beside him as she struggled, muffled screams pouring from behind her gag. We didn’t even look at her. The last faces I wanted in my mind were my mates’.

Lysander squeezed my hand. I squeezed back. We walked toward the Veil and stepped into the dark.

Chapter 69

MEDRA

One Year Later

Bloodwing Academy

I stood in the middle of the room I shared with Blake in Drak-harrow Tower, half-dressed and swearing at a gown. “Who designed this thing? It’s a complete nightmare.”

Blake chuckled from behind me. “I did, and you know it. I’d offer to help, but I’m enjoying the show.”

Springrise term had just ended. Tonight was the Graduation Ball. I twisted to glare at him. The gown hanging around my waist, I tripped on the long skirt and nearly lost my balance. Blake stood by a desk near the entrance, fastening the cuffs of his dress shirt. He wore all black tonight, except for a waistcoat accented in gold and silver—a small nod to Orphos and Avari. His golden blond hair fell straight and loose, almost to his chin. He swept it up into a high bun and tied it with black ribbon. He looked like sin and trouble.

Blake caught me staring and smirked. “Like what you see, Pendragon?”

I shrugged casually. “I suppose.” I knew if I said yes, he’d kiss me, and then we’d never leave the room.

With a sigh, I turned back around, trying to pull up the bodice of my dress. The upper portion was made of fitted boned dark plum satin. Tiny silver crescent moons and small gold suns had been embroidered across the fabric. The skirt was a giant poufy thing of white and pale lavender tulle, billowing out like layers of spun sugar. The bodice slipped down my chest again, and I made a sound of annoyance. What sleeves the gown had were small pieces of purple satin that hung off my shoulders—more for show than for support.

“These buttons are too small for my fingers,” I complained. “Who did they think this dress was for, a child or a grown woman?”

Blake crossed the room and came to stand behind me. He reached down, tugging the bodice up gently and then worked his fingers deftly at the buttons. “The dressmaker who helped me design this is considered an expert in her field, I’ll have you know.”

I glanced toward the corner where a stack of bags were packed and waiting. Another piece of luggage lay open on the bed, half-filled with folded clothes.

Blake finished with the last button and laid his hands gently on my waist. “There. Perfect.” He rested his head on my shoulder, and I looked at us in the mirror.

I touched one of the tiny golden suns on my embroidered bodice. “It feels strange to be wearing colors again.” We’d both been in full mourning for more than a year. I’d grown used to black.

“It’s time,” Blake said softly.

I nodded. For a moment, I let myself think about them. Regan with her barbed tongue and elegance. Kage with his cryptic words and dark brown eyes. He’d always seemed to speak to me in half riddles. But when I’d needed him, he’d always been there. I’d known Lysander the least, but I knew he’d been calm as winter, full of wisdom, and stronger than anyone had ever seemed to realize.

They were all gone now. And part of me still couldn’t believe it.

No one would ever know exactly what they had done at the Veil. They’d left no notes, no records. We only knew that they had gone after Catherine Mortis. And they did not return. We knew that the Veil had not fallen—but that the plague had ceased.

There were many theories. Some more realistic than others. I knew Blake believed the three of them had become part of the Veil—along with his mother and, yes, even Catherine. He said he’d seen them all once, in a dream. Blake wasn’t usually one for believing much in the power of dreams or birth signs; he wasn’t a very fanciful person, so I wanted to believe him. Wanted to believe that maybe, just maybe, something of the ones we’d lost were still out there somehow. Their spirits. Their memories. Whatever you wanted to call it. Just … something.

Elaria was gone, too—she’d died in the wave of plague that struck Veilmar. She’d died without even knowing her grandson had become one of Sangratha’s greatest heroes. They were all gone: Elaria, Viktor, Marcus, Catherine. All of the monsters were dead, the old alliances shattered.

A power vacuum had formed almost overnight, and for a brief while, it had seemed Sangratha would not be able to avoid a civil war. But then the Veilmar City Council had stepped up. It had become something stronger and more permanent—evolving into a coalition of influential blightborn and ambitious, liberal-minded highbloods. The council had taken over all the work the regency had been doing. And Gabriel Rodriguez, gods help us all, had been elected council chairperson.

In the south, the changes had been good ones. The imbalanced class system, where highbloods took and blightborns gave, was slowly but surely changing. Veilmar had recently passed new laws in which use of compulsion or coercion, including thrall-weave, was being treated as a crime. Feeding from anyone unwilling was now considered assault. Feeding from minors was entirely banned. Debt-based feeding contracts—in other words, the entire thrall system—were being reviewed. Rodriguez was pushing to have them outlawed. Instead, highbloods were being encouraged to visit licensed locations where they could pay blightborns fairly for their blood donations. Healers were also setting up clinics with blood reserves in major cities, starting with Veilmar.

Of course, there had been some resistance to the changes, and the new options weren’t as widespread or available outside of the capital. But they were a start.

Feeding within consensual bonds had become many younger highbloods’ preference. Mixed highblood–blightborn relationships had become something of a trend over this past year. I was sure Viktor Drakharrow would be thrilled if he were here to see it all.