Page 25 of The Bond That Burns (Bloodwing Academy #2)

I watched her leave, her face hollow, her steps heavy and exhausted.

She hadn’t even made it to the Tribunal evaluation, and already they’d nearly broken her. Not by attacking her directly. No, she would have triumphed in that case. But by threatening someone she cared about–someone special to her. It was an insidious way to get to her. Pendragon was the strongest person I knew, but when it came to her friends... Well, they were her one weakness.

I was livid. Furious with the entire world and everyone in it. But most of all furious at myself for what I’d done to her.

I’d made her cry.

The common room had fallen silent after my eruption.

But I didn’t sit back down, didn’t walk out. I just stared up at the spiraling stairs, as if I could make Pendragon reappear just by looking.

She had every right to hate me. I’d given her plenty of reasons. But watching her crumple, seeing her fight so hard to hold the tears back—something inside me snapped.

What had she said earlier? That the dragon wouldn’t care about her or her friends because they were too insignificant to him? Was that how she saw herself? As insignificant? Disposable?

My throat tightened. I wasn’t blameless. I’d tried to make her feel that way. Weaker. Inferior.

Now I wanted to grab her and shake her until she saw the truth. That she was fierce, stubborn, and kinder than any of the self-serving highbloods around us with their twisted politics and their willful cruelty.

But what right did I have? I’d helped bring her to the breaking point. My uncle was probably the one who’d thought of using her friend at the evaluation. If Florence died, it would be my family that was to blame. I would be to blame.

And yet... I couldn’t just do nothing. Couldn’t leave her alone.

I knew she’d gone upstairs to be alone, to wall herself off from anyone who might glimpse her vulnerability.

But to hell with that.

I crossed the room, ignoring the whispers that followed me as I stalked towards the stairs. I climbed them two at a time, my resolve hardening with every step.

I reached her door and knocked. Loudly.

No answer.

I knocked again. Once. Twice.

“Open the door, Pendragon,” I called, not caring who heard me. “I’m not leaving.”

Still nothing.

I tried again, knocking harder.

And then, finally, “Please. Open the door please.”

The door swung open abruptly and there she stood. Tear-streaked and blotchy. Her eyes red and puffy. She was beautiful in a way that made my limbs weak and my heart hurt. For once, I had no mocking grin, no teasing remark.

“What do you want, Blake?” Her voice was raw and tired. “What could you possibly want right now?”

I opened my mouth. Closed it again. I didn’t quite know what I wanted. All I knew was that the sight of her like this was unbearable.

“I don’t know.” My voice was low and rough. “I just...don’t think you should be alone right now.”

Her breath hitched and she let out a choked sob. That sound. It shattered something inside of me.

Without thinking, I stepped forward,

And then she was in my arms, melting against me, her fists clutching my shirt like I was the only thing keeping her standing.

I kicked the door closed behind me, shutting out the rest of the world.

“I’m sorry,” I murmured. I pressed my lips to her temple, her hair, every spot I could find, as she buried her face in my chest, her shoulders shaking. “I’m so damn sorry.”

She didn’t reply, but slowly she looked up at me.

“I hate you,” she whispered, her voice quavering. But her hands grabbed the fabric of my shirt even tighter, pulling me closer.

“I know,” I whispered back. “You hate me.”

Deep down, I knew hatred was all I’d ever deserve from her.

I leaned down, kissing her eyelids, her cheeks, her lips. Every wet spot I could find, every tear. I kept kissing her, because if that was all I could give her at that moment, I’d give it all.

I kissed her like she was the air I needed to breathe. Gently, reverently. As if I could somehow piece her back together with the touch of my lips.

She trembled against me, her breathing coming faster. I wanted nothing more than to take away all of her hurt and replace it with something—anything—better.

My heart slammed against my chest as she pulled back and tilted her head to look up at me, her red-rimmed eyes searching mine.

“Blake,” she said, her voice somewhere between anger and despair.

I cupped her face with both hands, my thumbs brushing away fresh tears as they fell. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.” My jaw tightened. “They can all go to fucking hell, Pendragon. Nothing is going to happen to your friend. I swear it.”

She lifted her head, her lips colliding with mine, hesitantly at first, then more urgently, like the breaking of a dam. The kiss was fervent, desperate. Like she was trying to claw her way out of her own misery and find something solid.

Her fingers slid over my chest, then lower. She tugged at the fabric of my shirt, her fingers curling in the waistband of my trousers.

“Off,” she whispered.

“Are you sure?” I breathed, pulling back to search her face.

She nodded, her gaze steady, even as her lips quavered.

I didn’t have to be asked twice. I pulled my shirt over my head and tossed it aside.

Her fingers trailed over my chest, over the snaking black dragon tattoos inscribed there, as if hesitant but curious. I shivered under her touch, every nerve in my body attuned to her.

“Why are you...” She stopped, swallowing hard.

“What?” I asked, gently brushing a damp curl off her face. “Why am I what?”

“Why are you being...like this?” Her eyes were filled with confusion. As if she couldn’t reconcile the Blake she knew with the one standing in front of her now.

“Like what?”

“Kind,” she whispered, her voice so soft I almost couldn’t hear her.

My chest tightened. “Because you deserve it,” I said roughly. “Because you’ve always deserved it.”

She let out a shaky breath, her fingers tightening along the ridges of my back, pulling me towards her as her lips found mine again. This time the kiss was slower, deeper. The desperation was still there but it had been softened, replaced with something that made my chest ache with need.

Her hands slid over my shoulders, and I held her tighter, feeling the delicate curve of her waist under my palms. I wanted to memorize every inch of her, every soft little sound she made. She was a storm of contradictions, all fragility and fire. If she let me, I’d be the one who held her through every storm and tempest on the horizon.

Our kiss deepened. Her body pressed more firmly against mine and I couldn’t stop the low groan that escaped me. Her fingers tangled in my hair.

“Come here,” I murmured against her lips, my voice a low growl as I tried to keep my need at bay. I didn’t want to take from her. Not today. Today I wanted to give her something. Everything. Anything she needed. Anything that would help the hurt, stem the tide of her tears.

I held her by the waist and gently guided her backwards towards the bed in the center of the room until the backs of her knees hit the edge of the mattress.

She looked up at me, her eyes huge, unsure.

I waited, giving her time to tell me to stop.

She didn’t.

I brought my hands to her shoulders, my touch gentle as I eased her back, lowering her onto the mattress, my weight hovering above her. My lips brushed hers, slow and patient, trailing down to the corner of her mouth, then down to her jaw. I kissed my way down to her neck, lingering there before forcing myself to move on. My fingers reached for the buttons of her blouse. I hesitated, looking down at her, silently asking for permission.

She nodded slowly, her breath catching as I undid the first button Then the next. And the next. The blouse parted and I moved onto the little white chemise she wore underneath, the thin cotton fabric the only thing keeping me from her breasts. I could already see the tips of her nipples straining against the thin cotton. For a second, my fingers stumbled over the tiny pearl buttons, but then I continued steadily, as though I was unwrapping something infinitely precious. When the chemise finally fell away, my gaze swept over her.

“You’re beautiful,” I said, my eyes darkening. “So fucking beautiful, Pendragon.”

My hands moved to the waistband of her skirt. I paused, my eyes meeting hers. “Tell me if you want me to stop,” I said, my voice a little hoarser now.

She shook her head. “Don’t stop,” she whispered.

I lifted her skirt slowly, taking in the sight of the white lace undergarment she wore. I slid my hand down her bare thigh, then between her legs, feeling the dampness. She gasped as I pushed the fabric aside, then moaned as I slipped a finger inside her.

Her breaths came in urgent pants as I slid my fingers in and out of her. But it wasn’t enough. I wanted to give her more.

I leaned over her, kissing the tips of her breasts, then moving my mouth down the plane of her stomach, across her hips. I lifted her skirt, sliding it up to her waist, and then lowered my tongue to her pussy. Her breathing quickened. She clutched the coverlet of the bed with her free hand as she tangled the other in my hair.

I moved my thumb over her clit as I licked between her legs, the stubble along my jaw brushing the soft sensitive skin.

I went slowly, running my tongue up and down the length of her. Enjoying the sounds as her breathing sped up, becoming a ragged pant. Feeling the quivering of her thighs as I teased and tasted, savoring her scent.

Then, finally, the sweetest words.

“Blake, please,” she moaned. “I can’t...”

“Fall apart for me, sweetheart,” I breathed against her skin, then captured her clit between my lips, sucking hard enough to make her cry out my name so loudly it was almost a scream.

I felt her orgasm rip through her in a shockwave, her hand tightening in my hair as her hips arched against my mouth, her knees shaking.

I slid my hands over her hips, her thighs, savoring the soft perfection of her skin. Memorizing the smell of her. The scent that had filled my dreams.

She reached down for me, pulling me up beside her and I complied, sliding up the bed and wrapping her in my arms. Her fingers skimmed over my chest restlessly.

“Not enough,” she whispered. “Still not enough.”

I looked down at her in surprise.

“Fuck, Pendragon,” I teased. “You’re shameless.”

Her cheeks colored pink. But I didn’t want to embarrass her. I wanted her comfortable, relaxed.

I kissed the tip of her nose, then her cheeks, then grazed her mouth with mine. “Maybe there’s something we could do about that.”

Her hand was already reaching for my crotch. She rubbed her palm over my cock and I groaned. I’d been hard for her since I stepped into the room and I was sure she knew it.

“Maybe we can do something about this,” she whispered teasingly. Her fingers were already fumbling with my buttons.

I let her push my trousers down over my hips, revealing the length of me. I hid a grin as her eyes widened slightly, taking me in. She’d seen it all before, but still, in some ways I seemed as new to her as she was to me. I didn’t think I’d ever tire of her—or of seeing her body.

I slid my hand between her legs, stroking her up and down, as she panted with need, arching her hips to beg me for more.

Finally, I moved over her, shifting myself between her legs and then thrusting inside her.

She gasped, her hands clutching my back, pulling me against her and kissing me as I drew my hips back and thrust into her again and again.

“Fuck, Pendragon,” I gasped, as I sank into her. “You sure we can’t make a habit of this?”

I bit my lip and looked down at her, scared I’d said too much, afraid I’d offended her.

But her eyes were closed. Instead of responding, she locked her legs around my hips and lifted her body to meet me. I watched in wonder as her lips parted, cheeks rosy and flushed, as the tide of pleasure raced over her. Her soft cry broke the silence, her body trembling against me as she reached her peak.

And then my own pleasure cascaded through me like a burst of flame and I drove into her harder, finding my own release, as her name slipped from my lips over and over. The sensation was overwhelming. Like nothing I’d ever felt. Not just physical, but emotional. As if the walls between us had finally crumbled.

When I’d come down from the high, I rolled off her. But I didn’t want to let her go. I shifted onto my side, lacing my fingers through hers and pulling her close.

To my shock, she let me. She didn’t pull away.

My heart was still pounding like a drum. I wondered if she could hear it.

Our eyes met. I pressed my forehead gently against hers.

“Do you want me to go?” I asked, trying not to show how badly I wanted to stay.

The moment seemed to drag on forever.

Then slowly, she shook her head. “Bath? Then sleep?”

My heart sped up. “Sounds good.”

I felt a bone-deep relief. She wasn’t pushing me away.

I stood up and reached for a blanket folded at the foot of the bed. Then I pulled her to a sitting position and wrapped it around her shoulders.

“Stay here. I’ll run the bath.”

I moved to the adjoining room and turned on the taps. Water rushed forth. Soon steam was curling into the air. I looked around at the bottles on the edge of the tub, then picked one labeled lavender. The herb was supposed to calm and soothe. Pendragon needed that.

As I held the bottle in my hand, I froze. What the fuck was I doing? Since when did I stay in a girl’s room after we’d finished fucking? Since when did I run a girl a bath?

I’d practically been begging to stay and cuddle. Had Pendragon noticed? Did she think I was pathetic?

I went back into the other room. She was still sitting on the bed, the blanket draped loosely over her shoulders, her red hair tousled around her flushed, just-fucked face.

For a moment, I just stood there. Drinking in the sight of her.

I wanted to tell her how beautiful she looked. How beautiful she always looked. But I didn’t want to spook her. Think I was demanding too much too soon.

“It’s ready,” I said, finally, holding out my hand.

She hesitated a beat before taking it.

As the warmth of the water enveloped us, I pulled her close, her back resting against my chest as I wrapped my arms around her beneath the water.

I could feel the leftover tension in her body gradually melting away, her breathing evening out as the soothing heat and soft scent worked their magic.

I rested my head on hers, trying to think of the right words to say. “I meant what I said. I’ll keep Florence safe. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

She moved her head to look up at me, her expression tired but soft. “Thank you.”

I pressed a kiss to her temple. “You should get some rest.”

We climbed out, drying off in a silence that didn’t feel tense or awkward for once. I helped her pull on a robe, then grabbed one of my own. It was a little small and I saw her eyes light up, as if she was trying not to laugh. But in the end, I think she was too tired to even bother.

I followed her back to the bed, waiting for her to tell me to go. To say this had been another mistake.

But instead, she just climbed in, pulling the covers up to her chin.

After a moment’s hesitation, I slid in beside her.

For once, I didn’t need to try to fill the silence. I just held her, our legs tangling beneath the blankets as the weight of the day slipped away.

“Sleep,” I murmured against her hair, my fingers moving up and down her back. “I’m here.”

And as her breathing slowed, I stared up at the canopy.

She’d fallen asleep in my arms. It was such a simple thing. So why did it feel like a miracle I could barely process?

I’d never been in this position before. Never felt this need to stay.

I tightened my arms around her, my chest filled with something too big to name. For once, I wasn’t running, wasn’t pretending. I didn’t want to. The thought of leaving her side tonight—or any other—felt like sacrilege.

Maybe I didn’t deserve her. Hell, I knew I didn’t. But that didn’t mean I was going to let her go. Not when she was here, her breath warm against my skin, her trust fragile but real.

Her fingers twitched lightly against my chest, her body relaxing more fully into mine and I pressed a kiss against her hair and closed my eyes.

“Mine,” I whispered, the word slipping out before I could stop it.

For the first time in a long time, I fell asleep believing that maybe, just maybe, I was capable of something better.

Because of her.