Page 43

“W ELL , WELL , WELL! ” CANNING SAID with a slimy grin. “If it isn’t the Eversun princess.”

Briony watched in tense anticipation as Finn, Canning, and Liam entered the library, spreading out like a blockade across the only exit.

“Gentlemen,” Toven said coolly. “To what do we owe the pleasure.”

“It is your birthday, isn’t it?” Liam said, flipping through an open book on the research table.

“Last week, but I appreciate the care,” Toven said.

Briony met Finn’s eyes as he stood near Serena at the door. He looked nervous. And Briony immediately could tell that this wasn’t his idea.

“Shall I take the girl back to her quarters?” Serena asked.

“Yes,” Toven said, turning to look at Briony. “I was having her refile all the books based on how many times the word the appeared.” He grinned at her coldly.

“Oh, have her stay,” Canning said, throwing himself down on an armchair. “We haven’t gotten a chance to play.”

“You know I don’t share,” Toven said dryly. “Mother?” He nodded at her.

Serena moved toward them, ready to collect Briony.

“Have her stay,” Canning said firmly, staring Toven down.

Serena paused.

The room watched closely as Toven and Canning studied each other.

Aside from the state dinner when they all stepped in front of one another to dance with her, Briony had never seen how the rank in the line worked in casual social situations.

If this could even be called casual; it felt very charged.

Toven nodded. “She’ll stay, Mother.”

Serena hesitated before smiling. “Of course. You boys behave yourselves.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Serena,” Canning said, twisting his head on the arm of the chair to watch Toven’s mother glide out of the room. Once the door was closed, he turned to Liam. “Has Serena Hearst always had that rack?”

Toven tilted his head at him coldly.

Liam snickered.

“Whiskey, anyone?” Toven said. “From Father’s private collection.” The house obeyed, and a tray with glasses and a crystal decanter of whiskey arrived on the table next to Finn.

Finn began pouring. “So, Toven,” Finn said. “How are the ribs?”

“Ribs?” Liam asked. “I thought you shattered your shoulder.”

“I did,” Toven said, plucking a book from the shelf and handing it to her absently. Briony fumbled with it before deciding to reshelve it for him. “But then I went and played Dodge with Finn and he slammed into me.”

Finn shrugged sheepishly. “What can I say? I have a competitive streak.”

“Why don’t you bring the slut over here.”

The room paused and turned to Canning. He beckoned her with a finger.

Briony froze. She was in danger, but she didn’t know what Toven could do for her.

Toven shifted to the side slowly, allowing her to move forward. Briony stepped into the center of the room on shaking legs, feeling unwanted eyes dripping over her. She stopped in front of Canning. He was draped lazily over the arms, staring at her body.

“She doesn’t look like she has the pox to me.”

Briony blinked. The pox was an infection primarily occurring in Evermore’s humid climate, resulting in pustules and boils if not properly attended.

Toven’s heavy footsteps came closer. “She’s almost healed. It made taking her almost revolting some days, but that pulse of Sacral Magic is too good to pass up.”

She recalled Finn’s quip about a sex dungeon. Toven had implied to these men that he was having sex with her.

A warm hand dropped on her hip, and Briony tried not to jump. Toven’s crisp scent fluttered around her.

“But you have taken her.” Liam lifted a brow at Toven from the catalog. “Because there are rumors that you haven’t.”

“And who might be the root of these rumors, Liam?” Toven asked pointedly. “I might ask you the same question, but of course, you couldn’t snag yourself a woman. Just a male Eversun for a heartspring.”

Briony remembered the list. The Quills had ended up with Simon, a young man a few years older than her, and Katrina. Bile crept up her throat as she guessed that Katrina belonged to Liam’s father. Were many Eversuns being abused in the name of Sacral Magic?

“Not all of us like to drop sixty-five thousand on our whores,” Liam snipped.

“Yes, only those who like the best,” Toven said.

Finn hovered tumblers of whiskey over to them.

“Well, cheers to your birthday, Tove,” Canning said.

Toven lifted his glass, and the others followed. “To Mistress Mallow,” Toven offered. “May she reign forevermore.”

“Forevermore,” they echoed, as if it was a common toast.

After finishing his entire glass and handing it back to Toven to fetch him another, Canning said, “So I suppose now that she’s well, you’ll be bringing her to the revels.” He nodded at Briony.

There was a tense silence for only a moment before Toven broke it.

“I plan to, yes. As long as I’m not called into service.” He walked the glass back over to the whiskey decanter, and Briony watched him meet Finn’s eyes.

“Of course, you could always let a friend borrow her,” Canning said, his tongue running across his teeth.

“Oh, haven’t you heard?” Liam spoke from a shelf that he’d wandered to. “Toven Hearst doesn’t share her.”

Canning grinned. “Is that right.”

“That’s right,” Toven said. “I paid too much to let anyone else take a dip.” And then, changing the subject, “Liam, can I help you find the book you’re looking for?”

Liam turned around and hid his blush behind his whiskey glass. He smacked his lips and said, “My father was hoping to borrow something.”

“Strange,” Toven said coolly. “I received no letter of interest.”

Liam smiled thinly. “He sent me to ask.”

“Then ask.”

Briony tried to focus on the conversation as Canning suddenly stood and stepped toward her.

“It concerns the portal boundary line. And the incident in Ashmont last week,” Liam was saying.

Briony’s ears perked up even as she kept her eyes on Canning, trying as subtly as she could to step back. The last time she’d heard of the portal boundary line, it had to do with Castle Javis, where people were trying to get out.

“We’re looking for texts on obscure wards, ones they’re less likely to—”

“Have you sampled my elixir with her yet?” Canning interrupted, as if the conversation bored him. “Jellica practically vibrates when she’s on it.”

He lifted a hand and brushed his knuckle down the side of her jaw, drifting lower, lower.

She stood her ground, unsure what she could do, but trembling in fear and fury as Canning’s knuckles skimmed down her neck and over her clavicle, then caressed the side of her breast and under.

Her throat was tight as she choked on bile.

“I can’t say that I’ve had a need,” Toven replied. His voice came from behind her, and then one hand was pressing Canning’s glass into his trailing fingers and the other was pushing a glass into Briony’s sternum. Her hands came up to grab it in surprise. “We’ve been having plenty fun as it is.”

Toven wrapped his arm around her stomach, pulling her inches backward from Canning.

Canning sipped from his glass, watching the two of them as Toven settled his fingers just beneath her breast, tugging her ever closer to him.

She’d never been so aware of how special her circumstances were until that moment.

It wasn’t just that her friends were being drained of their magic—some of them being raped if Canning’s elixir was being used—and all living in the waters only knew what kinds of conditions.

Were some also being flaunted or shared? Possibly expected to entertain many?

She looked down into the glass Toven had given her as Liam continued his description of the book he needed and Canning glowered.

She lifted it to her lips, and it jumped out of her hand, hitting her chest and spilling whiskey down the front of her dress.

She gasped as Canning swiftly stepped back from the spray. She hadn’t dropped it.

Toven tutted.

“Do you have any idea how much this whiskey costs?” he snapped. “Go upstairs and clean up.”

Briony turned to look at him. It was him. He’d spilled it on her, to give her a chance to leave.

She looked to the ground and moved to the door.

“Come on, Toven,” Canning said playfully, stepping into her path. “We can clean her up, can’t we?” He leered, and then he swiped his finger over her clavicles, gathering drops of whiskey to bring to his mouth. “Get that dress off, though. So it doesn’t stain,” he said mockingly.

Liam laughed, and Briony saw Finn shift in the corner.

Toven stood very still while Briony’s heart pounded.

“I don’t share, Trow,” Toven said.

“We can look but not touch,” Canning said innocently. “Can’t we, lads?”

“Absolutely, Toven,” said Liam. “Unless you’d like to wait for Friday. When there’s more of us.”

Toven’s unamused mask slipped into place, and then he looked down at her. “Off.”

Briony gaped in disbelief; was she truly being forced to undress in front of Canning Trow and Liam Quill?

Not to mention Toven and Finn. Hesitantly, eyes silently begging for intervention, she reached up for the sleeve at her right shoulder and pushed it down.

Then the left. Her skin didn’t feel her own, and her stomach turned over.

Toven held her eyes while the fabric slipped down her arms, her breasts, her stomach.

She pushed it off her hips, and then she was in only her bra and underwear.

She thought of Reighven watching her shower and closed her eyes to the mortification, the shame. At least it wasn’t that.

One of the young men whistled.

“I always knew she had those tits,” Canning said, sucking his teeth.

She felt eyes on every inch of her skin, and another set of eyes hard on her face.

Toven reached forward and curved his palm around the back of her head, threading his fingers through her hair and holding her firm. He pulled her forward slowly, and she was forced to step closer.

He held her eyes as he whispered, “Don’t ever spill a glass I give you again.”

She wondered how much he regretted trying the “whiskey spill” trick now.

“Do you understand?” he said softly.

“Yes.”

“Yes, what.”

“Yes, Master Toven.”