“Sooooooo,” I repeat back to him, brows raised.

He grins sheepishly, then shoves a hand through his afro in a nervous gesture I don’t normally see from Flint. Instead of waiting for him to work his way around to whatever’s on his mind, I just ask, flat-out.

“You going to tell me what we’re really doing up here or am I supposed to guess?”

His look gets even more sheepish. “That obvious, am I?”

“To someone who just lost a flying race to someone made of stone, yeah.”

“Umm, excuse me, but I’m pretty sure I won everything anyway.” He looks insulted.

“Flint, come on.” I give him an encouraging smile. “What’s going on?”

“I need to go home this weekend.” He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “And I want you to come with me.”

68

Gone Courting

“Home? To the Dragon Court?” I ask. “Aren’t your parents coming here next week for graduation?”

“Of course they are.” He grimaces. “They can’t wait. But this weekend is Wyvernhoard. It’s basically the biggest holiday of the year for dragons, and there’s absolutely no way I can miss it.”

“Wyvernhoard,” I repeat, trying the word on for size. “What is it celebrating?”

“It’s our Feast of Fortune—a combination of our three favorite things.”

“Which are?” I ask, fascinated by the idea of a holiday dedicated to good fortune.

“Feasting, hoarding, and fu— Well, you can guess the last one,” he says with a laugh. “We’re simple creatures, really.”

“Oh yeah? So what do you do?” I ask, pointing to a plane that’s just come into view on the horizon. “Do you decorate a pile of jewels or—”

“It’s called the hoard,” he tells me, kicking his feet idly back and forth. “And we don’t decorate it, but all the attendees do get to choose something from the hoard on the last night. My parents actually host a festival to celebrate, and everyone who attends gets to pick something from the royal hoard.”

“The royal hoard? You mean, like, the crown jewels?”

He grins. “Something like that, yeah. And there’s fireworks and shows and amazing food. It’s actually a really good time.”

“It sounds like a great time,” I agree. “So why does it seem like you don’t want to go?”

He sighs. “Because it’s Court, and that means a whole bunch of…” He waves a hand. “You know.”

“I don’t, actually.”

“That’s true.” He brightens visibly. “That’s another reason you should come. You can get a firsthand look at what Court is like. Maybe it will help you when you have to set up your own.”

“My own Court?” Immediately, my pleasure in the day wanes. “What are you talking about?”

“You do remember the Ludares challenge, right?” He looks at me like maybe I hit my head one time too many. “You won a seat on the Circle. Which means, yeah, the Gargoyle Court is going to be a thing.”

I laugh. “I don’t think so. I mean, I’m essentially the only gargoyle in existence.” I pause as I think about there being one more. “Okay, maybe there are two of us, if we manage to free the Unkillable Beast. But that would still be the world’s smallest royal court.”

“Court isn’t just how many of your species you manage to gather around yourself,” Flint insists. “It’s the seat of your political power. And believe me, Grace, if you want to stay alive in this world, you need some political power. Because right now, you’ve got a big, shiny target on your back.”

“Wow, I’m so glad you asked me to come flying with you,” I tell him, tongue totally in cheek.

“I’m sorry! Freaking you out was not supposed to be part of the agenda.” He shoves a frustrated hand through his hair. “The whole Gargoyle Court will be fine—we’ve got your back. And so does Hudson. I’m just talking out of my ass because I’m freaked, too.”

“About going home?” I ask, still very much in the dark about what could be so bad about going home for a party where free jewels are involved. From what I saw when the Circle came to Katmere, Flint has a really great relationship with his parents—the total opposite of what Jaxon and Hudson have.

“About bringing Luca home with me,” he answers in a rush. “He’s always wanted to see a Wyvernhoard, so I don’t want to say no. But the whole meeting-the-parents thing…”

“Ohhh.” Understanding dawns. “It’s a lot. After all, not everyone has my luck with parents-in-law, but…”

He cracks up. “Good point. Why am I even worried, considering you had to face Cyrus and Delilah right out of the gate? This will be a cakewalk compared to that.”

“Compared to Cyrus trying to murder me?” I ask, brows raised. “You think?”

“Still, I want you to come. If you say yes, I’m going to invite the others, too, so then it really won’t feel awkward. Plus, my mom wants to see you. I asked her about the prison, and she’s willing to talk to us about it. So if you and Hudson come, maybe we can figure out if breaking you guys out of prison is even an option. She says she knows more about the dragon who once got out in only a day. That’s got to be worth Hudson and you risking the trip, right?”

“You want Hudson to come, too?” I ask, and the sinking in the pit of my stomach only has a little bit to do with the fact that I’ve been hiding from him since he kissed me yesterday afternoon. Well, since we kissed each other. I know I have to deal with it eventually, but I put everything on pause until I passed that history exam. “Won’t that put him at risk for getting arrested?”

“Not if it’s for official Circle business. He is your mate, and you are to be the new gargoyle queen. Which makes him the king-to-be as well.”

“Doesn’t that mean he shouldn’t be arrested at all?” I counter. “You really shouldn’t be able to put your corulers in prison. Besides, if we’re monarchs, aren’t we always above the law? I’m pretty sure that was just on my history exam.” I don’t tell him it was a question I think I missed.

“Typically, yes, but again, you haven’t been coronated yet. And if we sneak out and don’t let anyone know he’s gone, we’ll be doubly fine.”

“And if he’s not fine?” I ask as we stand up and get ready to head back down.

“He will be,” Flint soothes. “My mom assures it.”

“But if he isn’t?” I ask again once we’re both back on the ground.

“Well, if he’s not, then he’ll get a direct chance to look for the blacksmith.” He pulls open the front door. “And we’ll get a chance to stage a prison break.”

“Am I supposed to be reassured by that?” I ask.

But Flint just blows me a kiss and saunters away, exactly like the dragon he is.

Fuck my life.

69

Falling From Grace

After Flint walks away, I think seriously about going back to my room and crawling into bed with my Harry Styles body pillow and my Netflix account. But the truth is, our talk got me too wound up to sleep, and if it hadn’t, Flint’s parting shot about the jailbreak certainly would have.

Graduation is almost here, and that means, more than likely, Hudson and I are going to prison. Hopefully with a scheme to break ourselves and Vander out, but if the last year has taught me anything, it’s how important it is to say goodbye when you get the chance.

Which means I have to make one last effort to talk to Jaxon. Even if no one else can see it, I can tell something is wrong with him. Something more than just our breakup, although I wouldn’t dream of minimizing that pain to anyone.

No, something else is going on, and I owe it to him as his friend to let him know I’m here for him if he needs me. That he doesn’t have to push everyone away—which is exactly what his birthday gift to me suggests he’s doing.

I think I remember the Order telling me they had some rehearsal for the graduation ceremony they were doing today, which means now might be a perfect moment to get Jaxon alone.

I take the stairs two at a time.

The front room is still totally empty except for the workout equipment, but this time the door to his bedroom is open and, as I cross the room, I can see that it, too, is barren. Gone are the instruments and the art and the books, and in their place is nothing but emptiness. In fact, the only things in the room now are the bed, the desk, and the desk chair. Even my favorite red blanket is nowhere to be found.

And neither is Jaxon.

I don’t understand. I don’t understand why he would do this. I don’t understand what’s happened to him. I don’t understand how to help him. I just simply don’t understand.

I don’t realize I’ve said the last out loud until Jaxon’s face appears in the window—from the outside. He’s on the parapet. Of course.

“Hey!” I exclaim with a smile. “How are you?”

He doesn’t answer the question, and he doesn’t smile back. But he does say, “Come on out,” as he steps back.