I rolled my eyes. Only Regan would dream of murdering her fellow consort. Well, maybe not only Regan. It happened once in a while. But it wasn’t supposed to.

“You don’t want to piss off old Uncle Viktor, now do you, Regan?” I reminded her.

I hated myself for doing it, but I reached a hand forward and lightly cupped her cheek. “Or me, baby. Right?”

Her gaze softened as she looked at me. “Of course not. You know I’m a good girl.”

“The very best,” I said, letting my voice take on the hint of a drawl. “Such a good girl for me.”

She bit her lip. “Blake...”

I knew exactly what she was going to ask later. She’d want to come to my room that night. She wanted to come to my room every fucking night.

But I’d shut her out months ago. It had driven her crazy. I hadn’t even let her go down on me. No matter how sex crazed I’d felt sometimes. And it had been pretty bad at some points.

I wasn’t sure exactly what was wrong with me. But Regan had lost all appeal. Even in bed. And she had a good body, there was no denying that. She was exceptionally... bendy.

It was all Pendragon’s fault. Ever since that day I’d found her. Even covered with that prick, Barnabas’s blood, she’d been a breathtaking sight.

I thought of that day constantly.

Medra Pendragon might have been the most infuriating girl I’d ever known. She certainly ignited my worst emotions. And yet I’d never get that vision of her out of my head. Naked and yet still looking down her nose at me. Breasts splattered with blood and yet standing as tall and straight as a queen.

She was a blightborn. She shouldn’t have been capable of doing what she did to me.

But it was like she didn’t even understand what she was.

She wasn’t like other girls who fawned over me and bent to my will. I’d sampled plenty of those in my first year at Bloodwing. Even Regan had fallen into that category eventually, though at first she’d pretended to have an actual backbone and mind of her own. It had all been an act. She’d been trying to hold my interest. And it worked–for a little while.

But no, Pendragon met me with brutal words and cold glares. She made it clear she had no intention of falling at my feet. Yet despite that–no, fuck, because of it–I couldn’t stop thinking about her.

There was something about being challenged that made her irresistible. That glimmer of rebellion in her eyes, like a light that promised to never go out. The way she resisted what most girls would normally crave.

I couldn’t shake her from my thoughts. If I’d at least been able to just taste her, then maybe I’d have been able to get her out of my head. But even that was impossible. To do so would undo exactly what my uncle claimed he wanted us to get out of this.

Hell, part of me suspected he never wanted me to taste Pendragon–because he planned to take her for himself.

And that thought made me see blood red. It would never happen, not while I lived.

I didn’t want to stand up to Viktor. I fucking hated the man, but I wasn’t an idiot. I knew he was stronger than me.

Still, I’d do it, even if I knew it was suicidal, if I thought there was a chance it would keep Pendragon out of his slimy old hands.

In a world where everyone else bowed to us, she stood tall. Defiant and unbroken. It made Regan hate her. But to me, it only made her more alluring.

I closed my eyes for a moment. Remembering her perfect breasts. That thatch of red curls between her pale thighs.

Every night I jerked off to the same thing. Just different variations.

My favorite fantasy this week involved going down on her. She’d push me away, tell me to get out of her room, then she’d change her mind and grab me by the hair and pull me back, shoving my head down between her legs.

I’d lick long and deep, tasting her sweet saltiness, while she moaned. She didn’t want this. And yet she did. That was what made it so fucking good. Knowing we couldn’t stand each other. Yet knowing we couldn’t keep our hands off one another.

I’d reach a hand up to cup one perfect breast, rubbing my finger over her nipple until it was taut, while my tongue circled her clit and she arched her hips against me.

I’d bring her to her climax, swift and intense, and then I’d climb over her, letting her get a good look at me. I’d tell her this was what she’d done to me. She’d bite her lip and tell me she needed me inside her, couldn’t wait another minute.

I’d bend down and kiss her sweet lips while I wrapped my hands in that gorgeous mane of red curls, all spread out around her head like a halo of flame, and then I’d slide inside of her. I’d try to be slow and gentle, but soon I’d be out of control. She’d be clawing at my back, begging me to take her harder, faster...

Visha cleared her throat and I jerked out of my reverie, suddenly remembering where I was.

I sighed and ran my hands over my face, shifting on the bench to get more comfortable. It was fucking humiliating. It was also ironic. Pendragon had been given to me as a prize and yet I couldn’t even claim her. She was untouchable. I couldn’t even feed from her without our bond getting stronger first. Of course, she didn’t know that. If she did, she’d never let me get close to her ever again.

Regan and Quinn were standing up to go. They pecked each other on the cheek as if they actually cared about each other. It was sweet in a nauseating kind of way.

“You’re not coming, Visha?” Regan said, looking down at the dark-haired girl.

Visha shook her head. “I’ll just hang here until supper time. See you back in the tower.”

Regan looked at me with a question in her eyes. “Blake...”

I shook my head. “I’ll see you back at the tower later on, too.” Then I looked away.

Regan stood there a moment longer then walked off. I heard her start chattering like a magpie again as she ran into Larissa and Gretchen. The third and fourth meanest girls at Bloodwing, after Regan and Quinn.

I watched as the girls approached Pendragon’s table. Her friend, Sharma, started looking uncomfortable. They were putting him through the ringer, no doubt. Pendragon’s face grew more and more angry. Then she snapped at them. I watched Larissa’s face redden with embarrassment and had to stop myself from bursting out laughing.

Then their conversation seemed to wind up. To my surprise, Regan lingered. Pendragon stood up and followed her. She talked to the other girl for a minute. Whatever they were discussing didn’t seem to make her happy.

I thought I knew what it was about.

I turned back to Visha. She pushed a hand through her short-cropped white hair. She liked to change up her style. Last week she’d shaved it down almost to the scalp. She looked pretty badass. Unlike Regan’s other friends, Visha had a mind of her own.

It had taken me a while to realize that. I still didn’t think Regan had.

“You still pissed at me for what happened with Pendragon?” She said, with typical Vaidya bluntness.

I met her violet gaze. “I was for a while. I told you to test her. Not fucking beat her to a pulp and try to knife her.”

She shrugged. “It was too tempting to resist.”

I nodded. “Fine. Let’s move on. You got a taste. But I won’t tolerate it if you take another. Do you understand?”

Slowly, she nodded. Unlike Coregon, Visha knew what I was really capable of. I knew she’d fall in line.

“The Consort Games are coming up,” I said to her. “Have you decided?”

She blew out a breath. “Fuck, Blake. That’s a big decision.”

“I know,” I said carefully. “The biggest one of your life. Don’t wind up like me.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m more worried I’ll wind up like Regan, if I’m being honest.”

“I don’t think you’ll ever have to worry about that happening,” I said quietly.

She studied me. “You really don’t think she’ll listen?”