“So,” I said, not really wanting to keep talking about Blake but also secretly dying to ask. “Is it common for men to have two wives around here?”

“Not always. There are many couples, especially among blightborn. Among vampires, especially highbloods, triads are considered the strongest formation for family alliances.” She looked at me and smiled slightly. “I knew Blake and I would likely be joined by another consort. I just didn’t think we’d be assigned one so soon. Or in such a very unexpected and public fashion.”

Well, that I could understand and even empathize with.

“Yes, it was... quite a shock to me as well,” I said, as tactfully as I could. Then I thought of something. “Are the consorts always women? Two women and a man, I mean?”

Regan shook her head. “Oh, no. There are all sorts of trios. Sometimes two men and a woman. Sometimes three men. It depends on the leader of the triad. Their tastes and preferences. At least,” she corrected herself. “It usually does.” She bit her lip. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean...”

I shook my head. “That’s all right. I understand.”

So, I wasn’t to Blake’s taste or preference, was I?

I debated feeling sorry for the bastard and then went with decidedly not. So he didn’t get to select his second consort himself and was stuck with me, who he already clearly despised. Cry me a river. At least he wouldn’t be stuck with me for very long.

I considered asking Regan more questions about the intimate workings of these triads, then decided I didn’t want to know. It was totally irrelevant. I wouldn’t be getting intimate with either of them. Especially not Blake. At this point, Regan was honestly looking more appealing–if my tastes had swung to women, which as far as I knew, they didn’t.

The hallways were bustling this morning. Regan was waving and greeting students as we passed. I saw many look at her in awe, then sneak a covert glance at me. She seemed to be deflecting attention away from me, which was a welcome benefit of being her new friend.

After pausing to briefly embrace a tall girl dressed all in black named Gretchen, Regan continued speaking. “So, we’ll head into the refectory and get you some breakfast. I’ll introduce you to everyone in our group. And then I’ll get you to your first class. Speaking of which, here’s a copy of your schedule.”

She passed me a scroll covered with neat black script and I scanned it.

9:30 - History of Sangratha

10:30 - Restoration

12:00 - Lunch

1:00 - Advanced Weaponry

2:00 - Introduction to Bloodwing Libraries

4:00 - Commencement Address

Regan peered over my shoulder. “Oooh, History of Sangratha. All First Years have to take it. Restoration should be interesting, too. Professor Rodriguez teaches that. Make sure to ask him about the history of healing dragons. Fascinating stuff.”

I eyed Regan in surprise. I hadn’t taken her for a history buff.

She tossed her hair over her shoulder and smiled. “I make sure to excel in all of my classes. It’s our duty to House Drakharrow.”

I hoped my face didn’t reveal how vomity I felt as I smiled back at her.

We reached the refectory–a sweeping, vaulted hall that exuded grandeur. High, ribbed ceilings rose dramatically over our heads, supported by a series of stone columns that marched down the length of the room. Light filtered in through rows of large, arched windows set high in the walls.

Outside, I glimpsed tall trees filled with crisp autumn leaves in hues of yellow, orange, and red.

Stepping into the refectory, a roar of student voices flowed over me along with the clatter of cutlery and dishes and, in the distant background, the sound of the wind rustling through dry leaves and the waves on the sea. If it wasn’t for the vampires, I decided in that instant, Bloodwing Academy might have been, well, beautiful.

The walls of the hall were furnished with dark tapestries. Two large ones hung on each wall to my right and two my left, each emblazoned with a different motto.

I read each one.

“Ex Sanguine, Unitas.” From blood, unity.

“Ex Sanguine, Virtus.” From blood, strength.

“Ex Sanguine, Legatum.” From blood, legacy.

“Ex Sanguine, Potentia.” From blood, power.

At the far end of the hall was a massive tapestry of gold and red featuring the Bloodwing crest, alongside four smaller ones that I assumed depicted the symbols of the four houses and their crests. I couldn’t make out their details from this distance.

But it wasn’t what was on the walls that most concerned me at that moment. I sniffed hungrily and my stomach rumbled so loudly that Regan laughed.

Long, heavy wooden tables stretched across each side of the room, with a wide aisle in between. Each one was heaped with a lavish spread of food. I spotted platters of crisp bacon, buttery fried potatoes, and golden sausages alongside trays of fluffy eggs, and bowls filled to the brim with muffins, scones, and tarts. Alongside the hot foods sat trays of brightly colored fruit. Deep-red pomegranates, glistening green grapes, and piles of ripe plums were placed beside plates of crusty fresh bread. And those were only the foods I recognized. Many I had never seen before in my life. I watched as a girl picked up a slice of a strange fruit. It was bright red with small black seeds. As she took a bite, the juice ran down her chin.

Large silver pitchers of fresh juices had been placed along the tables. To my relief, I saw many students holding steaming cups of a familiar dark brown brew.

“Thank the Bloodmaiden for kava,” Regan said from beside me. She raised her eyebrows. “Would you like a cup?”

“Kava? Is that what you call it? We use another word for it where I’m from. But yes, I do. Absolutely. I’d kill for some... kava.” The word sounded strange on my tongue at first, but I knew I’d get used to it quickly with the amount I planned to drink. I wondered if I could brew my own kava back in my room.

Regan was weaving her way through the large room, obviously with a clear destination in mind.

“Let me introduce you to everyone,” she said as she finally stopped at a table that was nearly full of students. “This is where you’ll be sitting. With the very finest of House Drakharrow.”

I looked down and my eyes connected with a pair of gray ones, steely and challenging.

For a moment, Blake Drakharrow’s expression was pure disdain. Then a camouflage of indifference took over.

I waited expectantly for him to pat the seat next to him and smile up at Regan. Maybe even put on a display of affection solely for my benefit.

But instead, he just lowered his head back to his food and ignored us.

“Well, you’ve already met our brilliant leader, Blake,” Regan said brightly.

“Not the leader yet,” quipped a boy with dark blond hair and a mouthful of eggs.

Regan frowned. “No jesting, Theo.” She looked at me. “Theo is Blake’s cousin. He thinks he can get away with shows of blatant disrespect.”

Theo clutched his heart dramatically. “Disrespect? Me? Say it isn’t so. Will my beloved cousin banish me?” He looked down the table expectantly at Blake, but there was a mocking grin on his handsome face. I could see the family resemblance. But where Blake’s features were lean and dangerous, Theo’s were more filled out and, dare I say it, almost pleasant.

Blake’s only response was to toss a muffin at Theo’s head. It bounced off and landed on the floor.

I pitied the servants who had to clean up after all of the food fights these entitled highbloods must have.

Theo howled with laughter. “You cut me to the quick, good cuz. Wounded! I am wounded, I say.”

“If only I’d wounded you in the mouth,” Blake muttered.

I felt my lips twitch but quickly quelled them.