CHAPTER 8 - MEDRA

"I'm not a fucking parcel," I snapped, as Professor Sankara walked off to speak with another student. "Just tell me where the healer is and I'll find them. No need for us to spend any more time in one another's company."

"The professor said to take you, so I'm taking you," Blake said stiffly. "Unless you truly want to wander the halls for hours aimlessly, hoping you find your way there on your own."

"Asshole," I muttered. "Fine. Lead on."

He looked me up and down, then shook his head. "Visha sure got her claws into you."

I knew I must look filthy. Not to mention my nose wouldn't stop bleeding. I tilted my head up and pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to stop the bleeding as I followed Blake out into the corridor.

A group of giggling students were passing by. Vampires, from the look of them. When they saw me they stopped babbling, their mouths opening and fangs protruding.

"What the fuck?" I muttered.

Blake gripped my arm, firmly but not painfully. "They're First Years. Let's move." To them he snapped, "Get a grip."

"Get off me," I demanded, knowing it was useless.

Blake ignored me as I'd known he would. His pale features bore the same expression of frosty indifference I'd come to expect.

We moved through the halls. My nose still dripped faintly with blood. I kept a hand pressed to it, trying to stop the flow, finally resorting to wiping it covertly on my dirt-covered sleeve. I was already filthy. What were a few more bloodstains?

Every few steps, I glanced at Blake, wondering how he could stand to be this close to me with the scent of my blood in the air. Why wasn't he reacting like Barnabas or Visha or even those First Years had?

We rounded a corner and suddenly came face to face with a group of students. They braked to a halt as they caught sight of Blake.

Walking behind the rest of his group came Kage Tanaka, the leader of House Avari who I'd seen in the refectory that morning.

I eyed him with interest. He stood tall, posture straight and commanding. His shock of white-blond hair was gathered into a neat queue at the back of his head, while the sides had been shaved close. Just above the collar of his black, silver trimmed uniform, I glimpsed the inked curve of a crescent moon curling along the side of its neck, dark lines stark against his skin.

His dark brown eyes flicked to mine with an intensity that seemed to take in everything, missing nothing.

Just like with Blake, there was a danger to Kage that was palpable. Simmering just beneath the surface. Coiled tight and ready to strike.

A student in front of me hissed and licked her lips.

Maybe the scent of blood was nothing to Blake. But these students were reacting to it, their nostrils flaring, their teeth snapping.

I moved to take a step back, but Blake's grip on my arm held me in place.

"Well, well," said a boy with spiked pale hair, stepping forward so he was directly in front of Blake and I. "Looks like someone's having a little nosebleed."

He gave me a look that seemed meant to be flirtatious. "Maybe I could help clean that up."

"Get the fuck away from her, Kiernan," Blake snarled. He glanced at Kage. "Call off your dogs, Tanaka. Or I'll put them in line for you."

Kage Tanaka shrugged slowly. His uniform fit him like a second skin, hugging the lean muscular lines of his body. He said nothing to the boy Blake had called Kiernan.

My body tensed. I could feel myself preparing for another fight.

Kiernan grinned. Then he darted forward.

Before he could even touch me, Blake moved, so quickly I could hardly see what happened next.

Then the boy was flying backwards. His back hit the stone wall and he slid to the floor, his hands clutching his neck. He stared up at us, eyes bulging. His mouth moved but no sounds came out.

"What the hell, Drakharrow? It was just a joke," one of the girls at the front of the group said angrily. She moved to help Kiernan up.

"Do I look like I'm laughing?" Blake growled, his voice low and dangerous. His gray eyes were as sharp as a blade. I could feel his anger. It radiated off his body, barely restrained.

He moved forward, pulling me along with him, and the group of House Avari students parted quickly.

As we walked past Kage Tanaka, Blake nodded tersely.

Kage smiled slightly.

"Let's keep moving," Blake muttered, his tone flat. We turned the next corner and he released a slow breath and ran his free hand through his hair.

"What the hell was that about?" I hissed.

"No one can touch you," he said shortly. "Don't worry about it."

"Don't worry about it?" I laughed nervously. "That boy was about to... what? Drink me? Lick me? He only stopped because you punched him in the throat. Is this how it is for the blightborn? Every time I cut my finger, do I have to worry I'll be swarmed?"

Blake glanced around us. "First Years have less restraint about feeding. But they're supposed to keep their instincts in check and feed regularly to prevent a loss of control. That's part of learning to be a highblood."

"Funny, I'm not feeling reassured," I muttered.

"They're losing control for a reason." He took a deep breath. "Because of your blood in particular. You're not just any blightborn."

I was silent for a moment. "You mean it's because of my rider blood?"

"Something like that. None of us have known any other riders. But if this is how they smelled..." His voice trailed off. He eyed me, his eyes finally lingering on the blood crusted around my nose, coating my hand, my sleeve.

"Then what?" I demanded. "I'm so delectable none of you can resist me?"

In an instant, a solid weight had slammed into me and my back was pressed up against a wall.

My heart was pounding. I struggled feebly against Blake as his body held me in place but he was hard as a rock and just as stubborn. I tried to lift a knee to kick out at him, but he'd spread my legs, positioning himself between them.

"It's not a fucking joke." Blake's voice was raspy in my ear.

A shiver raced down my spine.

"You need to take this seriously," he breathed. "Or you won't last a week here."

"And you'd care if I didn't?" I gave a laugh that came out sounding braver than I felt. "Please. Don't pretend you care if I live or die."

He didn't move.

His body was solid. A warm mass pressed against me. If I breathed in, I knew exactly what I'd smell. Green apples. A faint hint of mint. Something underlying it all, like the pages of an old book. I hated that I knew all of that about him. It seemed so... intimate.

Intimacy with Blake Drakharrow was the last thing I wanted.

"What are you doing?" I hissed. "Get off me. Or is this it? You're going to feed from me now?"

"I'm not..." His voice sounded strangled. Like it was taking everything he had not to do exactly like I'd said.

He stepped away from me and I let out a breath.

"I'm not permitted to feed from you. Our bond isn't strong enough. And unlike some, I actually believe in honoring the laws of the Bloodmaiden."

I smirked. "Good." I started to turn away.

"Our bond isn't strong enough for me to feed from you..." he added. " Yet ." He sneered. "Let's go."

I'd missed the library session, which was arguably the only class I'd really been looking forward to.

I'd been curious to meet Florence's mother and see what she was like. Hopefully Librarian Shen wouldn't mind if I came by at another time to learn the ropes.

Not that I thought I'd need a lot of help. The castle in Camelot had a huge library. I hadn't spent a great deal of time there but I knew the basics.

Blake had taken me straight into enemy territory when he'd brought me to the healer. House Drakharrow had its own separate area in the castle complex. A huge tower housed all of the Drakharrow students. Not just the highbloods, but also the students who had already passed First Year and been selected into House Drakharrow.

I still wasn't sure how all of that worked, but the thought of actually living in the same tower as Blake next year was disconcerting.

Already I couldn't wait to get back to the First Year tower where I could retreat to my safe, cozy little room and simply be alone.

After getting me to the Drakharrow infirmary, Blake had disappeared. A surprisingly nice young woman who had said she was a healer's apprentice had led me to a bed and examined me. Then she'd called one of the official healers over and together they'd consulted on my treatment.

Apparently, House Drakharrow made a point of keeping at least one healer arcanist on staff at all times. Which is why when I left the infirmary, not only was my broken nose set and no longer bleeding, but my ribs were already rapidly healing.

I'd have to return again the next day for a follow-up, but they'd released me in time to get to the headmaster's Commencement Address.

As I left the infirmary, Blake was nowhere to be seen. Apparently now that I was no longer actively bleeding, I didn't require an escort.

All of the students in the halls were heading the same way, so I simply followed them.

When we reached the Dragon Court, I drew in my breath.

I wasn't sure what I'd been expecting exactly. But... not this.

A covered walkway formed a square around a central, wide courtyard open to the sky. The walkway was lined with tall, pillared arches that framed the view of the courtyard, where bright green grass was visible.

As I walked out of the cloisters, the courtyard stretched wide, surrounded by towering stone walls covered in creeping vines just beginning to blaze red and gold. Trees lining the sides of the courtyard were lit up in autumn splendor. Fiery red and orange leaves carpeted the stone beneath my feet, crunching as I walked.

But it was what lay in the center of the courtyard that took my breath away.

A massive ring of stone dragons loomed over the gathering crowd like ancient watchers. Each one was at least two stories tall. Their rough, weathered scales caught the warm amber light of the late afternoon sun overhead. Shadows spilled from the immense forms, casting eerie shapes that danced over the faces of the assembled students.

There were four in total, arranged in a perfect circle, their enormous wings unfurled so that the tips of each wing overlapped seamlessly with that of its neighbors.

Each dragon was a different color. One black. One gold. One ivory. And one red.

The black dragon was carved from a deep basalt. Its stone surface was a dark, glossy black that absorbed the light. Its eyes were deep-set and narrow, with an almost menacing intensity. The dragon's jaws had been carved slightly open, revealing serrated teeth that looked sharp enough to cut.

The gold dragon had been shaped from a lustrous warm marble. Golden veins ran through it, making it shine and glimmer in the light. The dragon's face was regal and commanding. Its nostrils were delicately flared, its mouth curved into a slight, knowing smirk.

The white dragon was sculpted from alabaster. Its smooth, creamy white surface lent it a soft, ethereal quality. The white dragon's face bore a tranquil expression. I had an impression of quiet strength and serene beauty.

The red dragon was on the farthest side of the court. Carved from red sandstone, it had the roughest, most unpolished look of the four. The red dragon's eyes were narrow and sharp. Its nostrils flared aggressively. I swallowed as I looked into its ancient carved face, so full of passion and fire and rage.

A hand touched my shoulder and I jumped.

"Medra, what happened to you?"

I turned to see Florence and Naveen. They were staring at me in shocked horror.

I looked down at myself, remembering. My body might have been rapidly healing but my clothes were still in a sorry state, coated with dirt and blood.

I flushed self-consciously. "Uh, combat class." I looked around, then leaned in. "I had to see a healer," I admitted, my voice low.

Florence put a hand to her mouth. "So that's why you missed the library session."

I nodded, suddenly tired. "Please tell your mother how sorry I am. Maybe I can catch up another time?"

Florence pushed her spectacles up her nose and nodded. "I'll show you everything you need to know on our day off. Don't worry about it for now."

Naveen was still staring at my clothing. "Who did that to you?"

"Oh, it's nothing," I said, trying to be nonchalant. "You should see the other girl."

"She?" Florence's eyes were wide.

I nodded. "Visha Vaidya."

Naveen and Florence exchanged glances.

"But you were at her table this morning," Florence said slowly. "I thought..."

"I thought so, too," I said hollowly. "I don't think anything was what I thought."

Naveen shook his head sympathetically. "At least the day is almost over. Come stand with us? I think the headmaster is about to begin."

I followed them over to an empty spot on the grass.

A podium had been set up on a platform in between the gold and white dragons and a man was stepping up to it.

I had already heard his name mentioned once before. Headmaster Kim.

I wondered what sort of a man he was. Powerful, I assumed, if he had been appointed headmaster of the top school in the kingdom.

The headmaster wore dark robes of a rich and heavy fabric, embossed in red with the Bloodwing school insignia. His features were formidable and commanding, with a high, broad forehead and deep-set, dark and narrow eyes that moved amongst the crowd, piercing through us one after another.

The crowd began to settle down. I looked around me as we waited, already seeing some familiar faces from the classes that morning.

Then I spotted Regan. Across the courtyard, standing in the shadow of the black dragon. She was flanked by Visha and Quinn.

Our eyes met and she smiled, then raised a hand to give a little wave. My jaw clenched. I curled my hands into fists by my side.

Theo and Coregan stood nearby her, but their eyes were fixed on the headmaster. Blake was nowhere to be seen.

I forced my gaze away from Regan. I'd have to deal with that problem later.

A hush had fallen over the crowd. The only sound now was the whisper of the leaves.

"Welcome to another term at Bloodwing." Headmaster Kim's voice resonated across the courtyard, dripping with gravitas and not sounding particularly welcoming at all. "I'm sure most of you are familiar with my face by now, but for those who are new, my name is Kim Min-jun and I have the great honor of being headmaster of Bloodwing Academy. Now, let us begin."

He paused and the silence seemed to deepen. "You are here not by chance, but by design. This academy is a forge where the future leaders and warriors of Sangratha are shaped. Our purpose is clear: to create those who will defend this realm from its enemies, both within and without. You are the sword's edge of Sangratha."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over us.

"First Years," he intoned. "Whether you will become part of that sword's edge remains to be seen. You have been chosen to join our ranks at an academy where only the most determined will prevail. If you falter, make no mistake. You will be discarded. Hard work and punctuality are no longer optional. They are requirements. Respect is not negotiable. It is absolute. Deviations from Bloodwing's high standards will result in swift punishment. Mediocrity will not be tolerated here."

I stood taller, a little shaken, but refusing to let his words intimidate me.

"To the blightborn students in our midst," Headmaster Kim continued, his tone shifting slightly. I caught an edge of disdain. "Your presence here is a privilege. You are here to serve. And you will bow to the authority of your betters in all things. Any failures to demonstrate the proper deference will be met with severe consequences."

A pause followed as he surveyed his audience.

"But for those who excel," he continued, his tone softening ever so slightly. "There will be rewards. Attendance at the Wintermark Ball will be granted to those who show exceptional performance in Term One. And for those of you who survive your first year, there will be other privileges, such as access to Veilmar on weekends. These are privileges to be earned, not given. They are reserved for those who can prove themselves exceptional."

His eyes locked onto us with a steely gaze. "Bloodwing demands excellence. It will draw excellence from you like fangs draw blood."

A titter of nervous laughter rose from the crowd, but only, I noticed, from the highbloods. None of the mortals were laughing.

Headmaster Kim smiled thinly. "So, strive to be the best or face the consequences. Sangratha is no place for the weak or unworthy. If you cannot meet these expectations, you will find yourself cast out."

I glanced at Florence. Did he mean cast out from Bloodwing? Or from the kingdom itself?

But the dark-haired girl was staring straight ahead, her lips tight. I looked around at the other blightborn students. They looked as nervous as she did. And these were students who were already supposed to be the best of the best. They had fought just to get here. I was here by random chance. So how should I feel?

As the headmaster continued speaking, I felt a prickle of unease across the back of my neck. It wasn't metaphorical. The sensation was palpable. A cold, invasive pressure bearing down upon me like a vise. With effort, I managed to turn my head. Sure enough, Regan Pansera was smirking at me from across the crowd.

My limbs gave a sudden jerk. Florence turned to look at me but my lips were frozen shut.

I took a step back, then another. I bumped into a student and they snapped at me, but I couldn't even apologize.

My body was no longer under my own control.