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“Yes, it was. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to shut you out.” I looked at her, shaking my head. “Oh, Visha, I wasn’t thinking. Of course, you could have stayed—”

“It’s fine,” she cut me off. “I don’t have a dragon, and I’m not full of mysterious secrets. But I want you to know I’m here. For you—and for Blake. No matter what he’s done, I’m here.” She paused. “And all of that stuff you said …”

I waited a moment, then, “You mean about me being from another world?”

“Yeah, all that shit.” She shoved her hands deeper in her pockets and grimaced. “I believe you.”

“Thank you,” I said softly. “I appreciate that.” I knew she wasn’t one for hugs or shows of affection, so I made sure not to touch her. But after we’d walked a few more steps, she elbowed me—not hard. More like a pup might nip its sibling. I felt warmth spreading inside me, then I elbowed her right back. She laughed.

We were both silent for a few steps. We hadn’t gone far before a cluster of highblood students from House Mortis approached, heading the other way. Almost all House Mortis students were high-bloods now. Since the other three houses had opened their doors to allow for a free choice, most blightborn students had left Mortis. The few who had stayed must have really wanted to be there. Or they were thralls, I thought uncomfortably.

We had not made any house give up their thralls—yet. But as far as I was concerned, that was a matter our new headmaster should be putting on his agenda. Overnight, Sangratha had changed. But outside of Bloodwing and the capital, Veilmar, few people probably realized how substantial those changes had been. But they would soon. And more changes were coming. I just hoped we would be able to sustain them. There was sure to be a backlash. But how big would it be?

As we neared the group, I was relieved to see Silvio Santos wasn’t among them. But I recognized one face—Larissa Diamantis. She was one of Regan’s closest friends. Well, she used to be. Larissa wasn’t in House Drakharrow anymore, as she’d been kicked out along with Quinn Riley and everyone else who’d decided helping Silvio Santos bar the door to fleeing blightborn was a good idea.

As our two groups passed one another, I saw the Mortis students mutter among themselves.

“Ignore them,” I whispered to Visha. “Remember—food is the goal.”

She nodded curtly, and all seemed to be going well, until Larissa stepped toward us. “Blood traitor,” she spat at Visha. “How dare you show your face—”

But that was all she had time to say before Visha lunged. Visha hissed like a feral cat, her violet eyes gleaming, fangs bared. Larissa stepped back, nearly tripping on another girl in her haste. Visha tugged at her jacket and laughed, a loud delighted sound. “Oh, relax, Larissa,” she called, as the group fled down the hall. “If I’d wanted you dead like Lucian, you’d already be bleeding.” She turned back to me, still smirking.

We resumed our walk. “So,” I said casually, after a few paces in silence. “Is that happening a lot?”

She shrugged. “Here and there. Nothing I can’t handle.”

“Since Lucian?” I clarified.

Her shoulders lifted. “Highbloods will be highbloods.”

“You’re a highblood,” I pointed out. “But somehow you manage not to be an asshole.”

“Most would beg to differ there.” She shot me a sideways glance. “Stop worrying about me, Medra. You have more important things to focus on.”

I drew in a breath. “Right. But you did kill your archon.”

“Future archon.”

“Former fiancé, then. And you’d once been … close.”

“What are you trying to ask, Medra? Spit it out.”

“I’m trying to ask if you’re all right,” I said desperately. “I know you did what you had to do, but it still must have hurt.”

She stopped suddenly. “It didn’t hurt. It felt fucking good. Lucian deserved it.” She studied me. “Now you think I’m a high-blood monster, too.”

“No.” I shook my head quickly. “I think we’re all a little fucked up right now.”

Visha smirked. “Understatement of the year. Do you think they’ll put that in the yearbook?”

“Bloodwing has a yearbook?” I’d been there for two years yet had somehow missed that small detail. But in my defense, there’d been a lot going on.

Visha laughed and started walking again. “Of course there’s a yearbook. I’m surprised Florence Shen isn’t on the committee already. They’ll probably label us the Most Fucked-Up Class to Succeed.”

I snorted. “Considering what’s going on, let’s see if they ever print another yearbook at all.”

“Oh, they will. Bloodwing’s not going anywhere. Besides, I thought that was what we wanted,” she said lightly. “Nowhere else to go, for some of us.”