All of a sudden I understood. Blake was one of Rodriguez’s other pupils. One of the highbloods he tutored in thrallguard.

“For fuck’s sake,” I muttered, already turning around. “No thanks. Tell Rodriguez I’ll see him at our next session.”

Before I could reach the door, Blake was there, moving with lightning speed to block it with his body.

He shoved the door shut with a bang, then leaned against the wood. “Just where do you think you’re going?”

My pulse quickened. But I refused to let him see how much I was rattled. “Get out of my way. You’re not a professor. I don’t have to listen to you.”

“Actually...” Blake folded his arms behind his head. “You do. I may not be a professor, but I’m the next best thing. Your archon. I’m also your future House Leader now. Officially.”

I glared at him. I wasn’t about to offer my congratulations.

He leaned towards me slightly, his breath warm and minty against my ear. “Besides, we both know there's no way you’ll get past me unless I let you.”

His voice dropped, sending a shiver down my spine. “And I’m not in a generous mood today, Pendragon. You could even say I’m a little pissed off.”

Belatedly, I realized there were fading bruises all along his jaw. I hadn’t seen Coregon strike him there. I wondered how he’d gotten them.

Did it matter? Who cared if Blake Drakharrow was hurt? He deserved anything that came to him. Anything bad, that was.

My eyes narrowed. “Move.”

He chuckled softly. “Feisty as always. But sorry, no can do, little dragon. We’ve got a lesson to get through and I mean to teach it.”

He reached a hand out, so fast I didn't see it coming, and brushed a strand of my hair off my face. “No can do, little dragon. I’m looking forward to showing you how a real highblood uses thrallweave.”

I slapped his hand away, my temper flaring. But I hadn’t missed the subtle jibe at Regan. “Don’t you dare fucking touch me.”

Blake’s eyes gleamed. He was having fun, the asshole. “I don't need to touch you to get what I want. And I want us to get to know one another better.”

Without warning, he was in my mind.

The pressure hit me like a sledgehammer.

Blake didn’t hold back. He wasn’t Rodriguez. He battered at my mind with a savage strength, pushing at my defenses with a brute force I wasn’t used to–or fully prepared for.

I gritted my teeth and forced myself to focus. This was what I had been training for. What was the point of the lessons if I couldn’t go up against a real highblood?

I’d built my walls. I’d blocked off my thoughts. I could handle this.

But Blake was strong.

Each mental blow sent cracks shuddering through my defenses. The walls I’d spent weeks building began to fracture. I fought to keep him out, but it was like trying to hold back a storm with a piece of paper.

Blake was everywhere. Overwhelming me with his attacks.

I curled my fingers into fists, sweat beading on my brow as I pushed back with everything I had.

“Get out,” I gasped, hoping the strain in my voice wouldn’t betray how close I was to breaking.

The air between us felt charged. His proximity was suffocating.

My breath was coming in ragged little gasps. My entire body trembled from the effort it was taking to hold him off.

I hated the look in his eyes. He knew he was going to win.

Another strike. My walls buckled completely.

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CHAPTER 27 - BLAKE

On some level, I knew what I was doing was wrong.

Sure, I knew that.

I felt a little guilty. But it wasn’t enough to stop me.

Pendragon had attacked me. Not the other way around.

And even though I’d won our fight, she’d still managed to humiliate me just by daring to challenge me in the first place.

If she hadn’t made me lose face like that, would Coregon have fought me in the arena that day? Would my uncle have summoned me and beaten me to a fucking pulp?

Well, the last part, probably. It was a regular little Drakharrow tradition for the two of us.

There was something about me Viktor hated. Something that reminded him of my father. I knew he didn’t treat Marcus the same way, no matter how out of control my older brother got.

I’d lied to save Pendragon. I’d covered for her to Kim. And she didn’t even know it because Kim hadn’t bothered to summon her along with me.

She had no idea what I’d done for her. That blissful ignorance really pissed me off.

Maybe I was truly beginning to lose it.

Rage simmered beneath my skin. The memory of Viktor’s fist slamming into my face. The memory of holding Coregon down while he was crushed.

My whole body ached with the weight of rage. Everything was spiraling out of control.

Now here I was, taking it out on Pendragon.

So yeah, I was an asshole. But the truth was, I felt guilty when I slipped inside Pendragon's mind...but I also felt good. There was a thrill to it. A dark power.

I felt her. The real her. She was sweet. Intense. It was almost as good as tasting her blood might have been.

But I hadn’t expected her to fight back so fiercely. It was clear Rodriguez had been doing a damned good job of teaching her. And yet, she still wasn’t ready. Not nearly ready enough to face someone like my uncle.

Viktor wouldn’t go easy on her. He’d tear through her mind like a tempest, leaving nothing but ruin in his wake.

Part of me wondered uneasily why he hadn’t done it already. If he thought she might be a spy, why not search her?

Then a worse thought came to me. Maybe he already had. Maybe he’d already seen everything I was about to see and was just keeping what he’d learned from all of us. From me.

Earlier that day, I’d rationalized to myself that I was going to do this for Pendragon. I would push her to her limits to make sure she was strong enough to survive.

She didn’t know that. She wouldn’t believe me even if I told her.

But now, as I stood in Rodriguez’s office, I knew I was also doing it for myself.

A high washed over me as I began to push past her defenses. She struggled against me and it was exhilarating.

Beneath that rush, the guilt and regret tugged at me again.

She wasn’t like the others. She didn’t deserve this. Not really.

I ignored the guilt and pushed harder.

I was in.

The first memories I grabbed onto were strange and disjointed. Nothing looked familiar.

I saw flashes of places that didn’t resemble anything I’d ever seen in Sangratha at all.

I pushed past scenes of a strange beautiful city with a river running through it and a forest on fire. I caught hold of a memory that felt important to her. Recent, too.

My pulse quickened as I scanned through it. From Pendragon’s viewpoint, I watched a woman with silver hair locked in a duel. She was facing a man–no, not just a man. He was almost like a highblood, but different. He radiated power. His entire being was charged with an energy I couldn’t quite comprehend.

The woman with silver hair fought him with a passionate energy of her own. She was wild. Raw. Untamed. A chill went down my spine. She reminded me of someone. Of Pendragon herself. And yet the way this woman was fighting was like nothing I’d ever seen before.

As I watched the fight, another figure caught my attention.

A dark-haired man stood by, his face covered with blood, watching the battle.

Then he turned and seemed to see Pendragon for the first time. His expression took on an intensity that made my stomach churn. The way he was looking at her–like she was everything to him. I saw the love in his eyes.

My hands clenched as hot jealousy flared inside me, sharp and painful.

Who the hell was he?

I had to find out. I had to dig deeper. I had to know who this man was, why he looked at Pendragon that way.