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His hand stilled. “She’s gone.”

“I’m so sorry, Blake.” I flipped onto my stomach and moved closer against him, wrapping my arms around his torso.

“She’s gone, but …” He took a deep, ragged breath. “But not gone, exactly.”

I lifted my head to look at him. “What does that mean?”

He shook his head. “Shit, Pendragon. I just realized we have something in common I never wanted us to share.”

I had a sinking feeling. “What?”

“Your mother. She’s not dead. But she’s not alive either, right?”

I nodded.

“But at least you can fucking talk to her. She’s not …”

“She’s not what? What do you mean, Blake?”

He ran a hand over his face and sighed. “They used my mother. They forced her to sacrifice herself. I don’t know how exactly they made her do it. But knowing Viktor, well, he probably told her he’d kill Aenia and me if she didn’t.” He paused. “My mother was a good person, Pendragon. She might have been a highblood, but she was more like Sankara or Allenvale than Viktor or—” He stopped again, and I knew he’d been about to say his father. “If she’d still been around these last few years, well …” He held very still. “Who knows what might have been different?”

“Viktor was afraid of her,” I whispered.

Blake nodded. “He must have been. Though, I doubt he’d ever admit it, even to himself. With her gone, he could shape Marcus and me. There was nothing to hold him back.”

“Nothing but the fact that you turned out to have a conscience.”

“Did I? I’m not sure about that. Maybe I grew one when you landed here. Maybe your blood gave me one.”

“No, I think you always had one,” I said softly. “Give yourself more credit.”

He was quiet for a while, stroking my hair. “When you met me, I had little sense of right or wrong left. Just look at how I treated you.”

“No, Blake. I think I’ll look at how you treated Aenia. I’ll look at how you treated Neville when I asked you to help him. How you helped Rodriguez bring supplies to blightborn families who were in need. I think I’ll look at how you were full of highblood arrogance and privilege and an asshole and a bully when it came to me, yes. But you still saved my life in the Consort Games.” I tilted my head up to meet his eyes. “You don’t take pleasure in killing and cruelty. Even though you could.”

“My dragon did,” he said, looking uncomfortable.

“Your dragon is a part of you. Do you hear him as a separate voice now?”

He shook his head. “No. Not since … whatever you and Nev did.”

I felt relieved. “Rodriguez told you that your soul was splitting. It was a hell of a way to fix things, but maybe Vorago really did play a part in, well, making sure you didn’t fucking die before you could learn to manage all of this.”

“You think I’ve got this managed?” he teased. “Just because I didn’t drop you?”

“That and a few other impressive things,” I teased back. “What do you think? Do you feel like you could shift again at will if you had to?”

After our little midair dalliance, he’d brought me back to the tower window, and I’d climbed back in. Then Blake had transformed fully. He’d gone for a test flight. I wasn’t sure if anyone had spotted him flying. At this point, it probably didn’t really matter, not now that he was finally getting real control.

I knew the next time he flew, I’d finally be on his back. Never in a million years would I have guessed when I’d landed in Sangratha and met Blake Drakharrow that I’d actually become a real dragon rider. Or that Blake would wind up not only my betrothed but the very dragon I was bound to.

He blushed a little. “Probably. I think so.”

“Then, you know what that means,” I said, with a grimace.

The knock at the door was perfect timing—or the very worst.

“Let’s pretend we’re sleeping,” Blake whispered.