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My heart sped up. What would be better? To live as a slave or to burn alive? Neither seemed like great choices.

I thought of Viktor’s hands on my body. I thought of him touching Florence. I took a breath, then twisted. A split second later, Viktor pulled hard, but it was too late—I’d already grabbed the lamp. I tossed it down with everything I had. Glass shattered, and oil spilled across the floor. Instantly, a blaze of fire leaped up.

Outside on the parapet, a sound cut through the room as the flames danced over the floorboards. Not the roar of a dragon but the howl of wolves.

Chapter 27

MEDRA

There was a fire already burning in the hearth when we returned to Blake’s room. We’d helped Theo get Vaughn and his grandfather to the House Orphos infirmary. Then we’d checked on Visha. She’d been asleep, but the healers told us she was doing well. Most people, Healer Elycia reminded us, didn’t live long enough to be treated for dragon-fire injuries. I knew Blake was beating himself up inside for having harmed Visha. I also knew he was smart. He knew it had been Vorago, not him.

I crossed the room, bypassing the bed. “If you think I’m going to sleep right now, you’re insane,” I shot over my shoulder as Blake closed the door behind us. I sank down onto the rug in front of the fireplace and dumped the leather satchel’s contents out onto the floor. Loose notes, folded sheets of parchment, diagrams, and a few books tumbled out.

“I wouldn’t dream of trying to get you into bed, Pendragon,” Blake murmured, sinking into an armchair near me. His lips were twitching, but I saw worry there, too.

“What do you think Nyxaris will do when he finds out Theo shot him?” Blake asked.

“I don’t know,” I said, trying to sort through the mess. “Kill him, probably. If Nyxaris is even still alive.”

“I doubt a few bolts would be enough to take out that dragon.” He was trying to keep his voice light, but I saw his hands clench on the arms of the chair. I knew he was worried about his cousin.

“We’ll help Theo explain. It will be all right,” I said, trying not to sound too distracted. “Even dragons have to forgive sometimes.”

“Nyxaris lost his rider because of Theo. I’m not sure he’ll see that as forgivable.”

My head shot up. “He hasn’t lost her. She isn’t dead, she’s missing.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry,” Blake said. “You really should sleep. How long have you been awake for?”

“Fuck off, Drakharrow. Florence is out there somewhere. I’ll sleep once we’ve found her.” I looked up at him. “You love Theo, right?”

“Of course. I’d do anything for him.”

“Well, I feel the same way about Florence. She’s been my best friend since I got here. She’s more than a friend to me—she’s my sister.”

Blake’s expression softened. “I know, Pendragon. Believe me, I know how much she means to you. And I’m here. I’ll help you, however you need.” He stifled a yawn, then looked apologetic.

But it was my turn to be sorry. “You’ve been through a lot today. You’re the one who probably needs some rest.”

“You mean stabbing me in the heart and doing a dark-magic ritual with a fluffin didn’t take much out of you, huh?” Blake joked.

I tried to smile, but I was distracted by the parchment I was holding. “He was documenting himself.”

“Who?”

“Viktor.” My heart quickened a little. “His injuries, his limitations.”

Blake perked up. “What kind of limitations?”

I flipped the page “All of them. Apparently your dear old uncle hasn’t been feeling quite himself for some time. He’s been healing more slowly.” I looked up at Blake. “What you did to him in the Black Keep …”

He nodded. “He’s still wearing the scars.” Blake touched a hand to his face, to the eye that had eventually regenerated.

“Whereas you healed—completely.” I looked back down at the page. “Viktor’s been wounded for a long time. Not just from you.” I rifled through the pages at my feet, trying to find the one that came next in the sequence. “Aha!” I grabbed at a sheaf. “It’s impacted his ability to shift. He’s experiencing instability.” I kept scanning. “It’s been going on for decades.”

“That explains why he hasn’t simply ruled Sangratha as its only living dragon, even before Nyxaris woke up.”

I nodded. “Yes. He couldn’t rely on his ability to transform. Even now, he only turns when he feels he has no other choice.” I flipped the page. “He can only hold his Inferni form briefly. Sometimes just for minutes. It costs him a lot, too. He loses strength.”