The Consort Games were coming up and, if I was right, she was in for a world of trouble. In some ways, I’d laid the groundwork for her as best I could.

But there was still more I could do to help her. The problem was, I knew she wouldn’t fucking let me.

She didn’t trust me. She wouldn’t let me near her.

And if I wanted to protect her in the best way I knew how, she’d have to let me get closer to her. A lot closer.

I frowned down at the fluffin as I stroked his fur.

She’d never accept my help willingly. She was too damn stubborn. But there was one way I might be able to get her to come to me.

It would mean taking a risk. A big one.

But if it worked, if she’d accept my protection, we’d both come out of the Games the stronger for it.

Not to mention I’d be a hell of a lot closer to getting what I really wanted.

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CHAPTER 47 - MEDRA

I walked into Professor Rodriguez’s office, ready for our thrallguard lesson.

As soon as I entered, I knew something was off.

Rodriguez sat behind his desk, his dark brows drawn into a deep frown, his lips set in a thin, unforgiving line.

I froze in the doorway as I spotted the book that lay in front of him. The Dark Art of Eternal Bonds. The one I had “borrowed” weeks ago.

“Sit down, Miss Pendragon,” Rodriguez said, his voice terse. There was no trace of the warmth I’d grown used to in our recent lessons.

I did as he said, my palms growing clammy.

My mind was racing with excuses and possible explanations, but none of them seemed good enough.

The problem with Professor Rodriguez, I decided crankily, was that he was decidedly not an idiot. He was the kind of teacher who always knew when a student had been bullshitting him. If anything, it was a miracle it had taken him this long to catch me out.

“So,” he said, fixing me with a piercing gaze. “How did you enjoy the book?”

I swallowed and tried to keep my voice even. There was no point in denying anything. “How did you know I took it? Why didn’t you ask me before?”

His eyes narrowed. “Are those really the questions you want to be asking me right now, Miss Pendragon?”

I squirmed in the hard wooden chair. There must have been some sort of an enchantment placed upon the book. Something that told him who had last read it. Why hadn’t I thought of that before? It was too late now to do anything about it, in any case.

“Why did you need the book?” Rodriguez’s voice was deceptively soft.

“I... I had a problem and I thought it might help me solve it.”

“Did it?” he asked sharply.

I shook my head. “Not in the way that I’d hoped.” That was basically the truth.

Rodriguez’s mouth twitched in a faint grimace. “Interesting.”

I glanced down at his desk and for the first time noticed something else was there laying beside the book. My essay on dragons. I had finally turned it in last week.

“Tell me,” Rodriguez continued, his voice frosty. “What did the book teach you about dragons?”

My heart sped up. “Dragons? It... It didn’t. I mean, there wasn’t anything about dragons in there.” I thought for a moment. “Or if there was, I didn’t notice.”

For a second I could have sworn he looked disappointed. Then his eyes narrowed, his expression darkening. He flicked my paper towards me across the desk. “This paper is an embarrassment, Miss Pendragon. A child could have written it.”

My face flushed hot. “I’ve had so much going on in my other classes...”

“I gave you extension after extension, Miss Pendragon,” he shot back. “More fool I. When a student usually asks for an extension I am always inclined to deny it. Yet I had high hopes you might actually make good use of yours.”

Knowing I had disappointed him, that he thought the paper unworthy of his time–that actually meant something to me. I felt hot with humiliation.

“Look, I’m sorry, all right? I’ll do better. I can rewrite it. I’ll read everything you told me to read. I can stay at lunch to work on it. Or after class,” I said desperately.

I was praying he wouldn’t do the one thing I was most afraid of and cancel our thrallguard sessions. I didn’t know when exactly but I knew the Consort Games were coming up soon and I felt as if I was finally getting somewhere. Once or twice in the halls, I’d felt the prickling of a highblood student, trying to pry into my mind. I’d successfully managed to shut them out each time. But these were just students. As Blake had said, older highbloods would be much more of a challenge. I still had a long way to go if I wanted to be able to protect myself.

Rodriguez scowled and leaned forward. “It’s too late for that, Pendragon. I would have thought that you of all people would have been most eager to learn everything you could about dragons. But instead you act as if you actually care about your other classes. As if you’re taking all of this bullshit seriously. I thought you didn’t even want to be here.”

“I didn’t... I mean, I don’t,” I said lamely.

But he was right and we both knew it. Something had changed. I’d changed.

Had I bought into the highblood propaganda without even realizing it or just fallen into an easy routine? Either way, I’d grown complacent.

Part of me had started wanting to be here. Bloodwing, for all of its horrors and cruelties, had begun to feel like home.

“And now,” Rodriguez continued, ignoring me. “You give me this half-assed excuse for an essay. Do you even care? You have no idea what’s at stake here, do you?”

My temper rose. “How the hell would I when you haven’t told me anything? You keep things from me and yet you expect me to somehow learn? To care. Why should I care? All the dragons are dead and gone.” I leaned forward. “Speaking of half-assed bullshit, what about you, Professor? Why were you meeting Blake Drakharrow in the middle of the night in Veilmar?”

His eyes flashed. “Don’t. Don’t even go there, Pendragon. I'm warning you.” He leaned back and took a deep breath, as if trying to calm down. “I thought you wanted to survive. That you’d use the knowledge you found to help you get through the Consort Games, to help you... prepare.”

I blinked at him, utterly confused. “I don’t understand. What knowledge? What do dragons have to do with anything?”

“It doesn’t matter now, does it?” he snapped. “You’re obviously not as clever as I’d hoped. And now we have a bigger problem.”

I bristled at the insult, but knew his frustration was at least somewhat understandable. I hadn’t held up my end of the bargain. But at the same time, it felt like he was talking in riddles.

He leaned forward, his dark eyes holding me in place. “Do you know what a legacy is, Pendragon?”

I narrowed my eyes and swallowed a witty retort about the breadth of my vocabulary. “Yes, I believe so.”

“There’s a legacy I’ve held onto,” he said, his voice lowering slightly. “It’s been passed down through my family for generations. A legacy of dragons and their riders.”

My heart skipped a beat. “What kind of a legacy exactly?”

“The subject we’re talking about,” he said slowly. “Is the most dangerous one in existence.”

I swallowed, taking in the gravity of his words.

“Some say there was a time when dragons and their riders ruled these lands. Not highbloods.”

My mind raced at the possibilities. “How do you know this? Are you saying this is real history or just a legend?”

Rodriguez smiled thinly. “The only way you’re ever going to have a chance in hell of finding that out now is if you survive the Consort Games.”

I could feel my frustration rising. “So that’s it? I’m supposed to risk my life in these Games and you're going to just sit there judging me?”

Rodriguez raised an eyebrow.

My temper flared. “It sounds to me as if you need me to survive more than you’re willing to admit. Why don’t you help me instead of just dancing around everything?”