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“Well, hello there,” one of the boys said, already rising to his feet. His eyes raked over me. “You’re rather pretty.”

“She’s in her nightclothes,” a girl said and giggled. “She looks ridiculous.”

I tugged my robe around myself, suddenly realizing how thin the cotton gown underneath was and how translucent it must be in the firelight.

“No, leave it open,” the boy urged, grinning down at my body. “I insist. I liked it better that way.”

I ignored him and took a step to move past. I’d been here once before. How had I made such a stupid mistake a second time? Why had I thought Bloodwing would somehow be safer now? It would never be safe for the likes of me.

“Look, she’s been crying,” another girl observed. “Did someone hurt your feelings, little blightborn?”

“Hey,” the boy snapped. “Your robe. I told you to leave it open.”

I froze. His voice was thick with thrallweave.

“In fact, you can unbutton that nightdress of yours, too.”

My hand trembled on the fabric of my robe. I suddenly felt very detached from my body. “Fuck off,” I heard myself say distantly.

The highbloods’ laughter stuttered to a halt. The boy’s grin dropped. “What did you just say?”

His eyes hardened. He stepped closer, and I felt a familiar pressure brush my mind. But this wasn’t like Nyxaris’s touch when he tested my guard. No, this was slick and invasive. Like a rotten vine trying to prod its way in. I raised my shields without even thinking, the walls of my garden slamming down into place, every clean green tendril taking root instantly.

The highblood boy hissed in surprise and stumbled backward.

“That won’t work on me,” I said quietly. Maybe if the boy had been stronger with his power it would have. But my shields were enough to keep him at bay. I’d been practicing. I started to step out of the circle of their light, just wanting to get away.

The boy’s hand caught my arm roughly, yanking me back. “That still doesn’t mean you get to leave, you stupid bitch.”

I looked down at the boy’s arm. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

“Why not?” he scoffed.

I tilted my head upward, listening. “Can’t you hear it?”

“Hear what?” a girl said aloud. Then someone gasped.

“The wings,” I whispered softly.

The night broke as Nyxaris swooped down from the sky like an avenging star. By the time the firelight lit up his obsidian scales it was far too late. The air shattered as his wings beat, sending hot embers and pieces of firewood flying over the sand. Screams erupted. The youths tripped over one another in panic, racing away across the sand. Some ran fast enough. Most did not. Nyxaris swept low over the beach, fire pouring from his jaws. Figures fell, burning, collapsing, and smoking on the sand.

The boy swore, then yanked me hard, sending me flying back against his chest. I could feel his breath hot and panicked just above my head. “If I die, you die, too,” he snarled. I could feel him shaking. I didn’t answer.

Nyxaris landed, and the earth shook. The boy stumbled but didn’t lose his grip, even as the massive black dragon prowled toward us, as beautiful and terrible as the face of night. He roared, then let fire roll again from his throat, scorching the sand a little ways from where we stood—close enough that I could feel the heat.

“Fuck,” the boy sobbed. “Oh shit.”

Tell me what you wish to happen next, Nyxaris said, his voice dark and resonant in my mind.

I stared at him, tears still falling from my eyes, the sound of the sea all around us. I’m tired. Tired of being afraid. Of being weak. I looked into his merciless ember eyes. I used to adore them. Worship them.

And now?

I want them to fear me as much as I fear them.

Before the boy holding me could react, I smashed my head back and heard the crack of bone. He cried out, hands flying to his face as I tore free of him and ran, plunging straight out into the sea. Behind me, I heard the crackle of flames as cold waves splashed around my calves. I waded deeper, feeling the water touch my thighs. I stopped there, shaking violently, my teeth chattering as the night closed in again.

I heard someone enter the water behind me. “Come back to the beach, Florence. Please. You’ll freeze to death out here.”