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My anger didn’t vanish, but it shifted. You should have told me. You should have trusted me. We’re in this together.

I am trying. Nyxaris lowered his head. But what I feel for you … what binds me to you is not gentle, Fireheart. This bond would have me be vigilant. I wish to stand guard between you and the world itself.

You can’t be a wall between me and everything that would harm me, I whispered.

He gave a mirthless laugh. Why can I not?

Because … I thought. Because it’s impossible. That’s what my mother tried to do, isn’t it? That’s not what I need from you.

He was quiet for a moment. No?

I shook my head. No. I just need you to love me.

His breath shuddered, and I sensed him on the verge of laughter. I do love you. I have tried not to. I have utterly failed.

I swallowed. I think I fell in love with you before I even understood what you were.

You are my Fireheart. You are the flame I would end the world to keep burning.

My throat tightened. I don’t need you to end the world. I need you to help me save it. And save Blake. This wasn’t how I’d imagined us having this conversation. I’d assumed Nyxaris would be … well, not a dragon. But it didn’t matter. I meant the words, no matter what his form was. You’re afraid to lose me, I said softly. But if I don’t help Medra …

He was quiet. Then, you wouldn’t be you.

I nodded. We have to help her. I paused. At least, I do. I can’t make you do anything. I won’t even try.

I will help you.

I’d known he’d say it. Still, my heart warmed to hear the words. What Vorago has done is terrible. But now he’ll expect you to strike back.

I looked down at the fluffin sitting quietly beside me. You once told me Neville staked two claims, one in you and one in Blake, even after he knew about Vorago.

Nyxaris looked down at the fluffin. Yes.

Then he’s not beyond our help, I said firmly. Not if Neville believes he isn’t.

The fluffin made a chirping noise.

Nyxaris growled crossly. Ridiculous.

It’s not ridiculous, and you know it. I started to feel a little excited. Vorago wants to draw you out. But we want to draw him out. We can use that to our advantage.

Use you as bait, you mean, Nyxaris said coldly. You will not be on my back when I see him next.

But I’ll have to be, I said firmly. That’s what is sure to bring him out. I have to be on your back. But we won’t be alone. Listen …

Chapter 15

BLAKE

I swam through an ocean of memories. Time was meaningless where I was. I clutched fragments of myself, surfacing and sputtering as I struggled and fought against being subsumed in the essence of another.

There. A beach. My mother’s face. I reached out my hand … and felt sand. I was nearly nineteen, home from school for the summer. The next year I’d be heading to Bloodwing. The sand was warm beneath my bare feet. The sun was high. Gulls cried overhead. It was the second month of summer, but the day was a cooler one. A gust of wind blew in from the water, tousling my hair.

My mother walked by my side, her arm looped through mine. Desdemona Drakharrow was barefoot like me. She wore a long loose white gown with a tattered black knit sweater pulled over it to shield her from the breeze. I’d given her that sweater as a gift for one of her birthdays long ago. I must have only been four or five then. She’d kept it and still wore it. My mother’s fair hair fell in long waves down her back. She looked peaceful and younger than usual. I knew it was from being at the beach, away from city life and the strains of highblood society. The tension that seemed to always fill her face when we were in the city was gone, softened by the sun and the sea.

Ahead of us, two children ran and played—Aenia and a little boy, Persis Pansera. The Panseras had a house near the beach next to ours, though ours was only opened up in the summers. Aenia loved spending time here. She and Persis could go months without seeing one another, only to quickly resume being the best of friends after a few hours at the beach.

I realized my mother was frowning. “Aenia,” she called loudly. “No throwing sand! Persis, that means you, too. Friends don’t throw sand in their friends’ faces.”