Page 136 of Spark of Sorcery

“Fuck.” I laugh, as it singes through my shirt and burns my skin. “That feels good.”

It’s nothing like Thorne’s magic. That was so freaking painful, such all-consuming agony, I’m still waking in the night bathed in sweat just dreaming about it.

Their magic is like foreplay in comparison. It’s a pain that reminds me I’m alive. That in fact, I live for this shit. I’m a shifter after all – hunt and fuck – it’s in my blood, imprinted in my brain.

A couple more strides and I’m right in front of them. I swing my fist, hitting Kratos’s heavy jaw. It cracks and so do my knuckles, pain ricocheting through my wrist, up my arm and into my shoulder. He hits me back and someone else jabs me in the ribs as another attempts to coil their magic around my neck.

I may be in human form but I’m feral now. All wolf.

I snarl. I snap my jaws. I hit and kick. Blast them with fire, zap them with sparks, strangle one with cords of shadow.

They fight back and my dislocated shoulder and the burn on my chest aren’t the only injuries, but I’m winning, I’m in charge.

Soon Prentice is out cold on the floor, and Nathan is so dazed he’s stumbling around on his feet.

And Kratos, he’s on his knees after all, my grazed knuckles wrapped around his throat as he struggles for air.

I spit out a mouthful of blood and grin at him.

“You see, Kratos, that’s the thing about us wolves. We grow up in packs. Fighting three of you at once is a piece of piss.”

Kratos face has turned an attractive shade of purple and the blood vessels in his eyes are popping like corn.

“This is your warning. You only get one. Next time you touch our thrall – next time you send someone else to touch her – will be the last thing you do. Because I will kill you.”

I laugh again, little specks of blood showering Kratos’s desperate face and then I release him, being sure to step on the unconscious dude’s ball sack as I walk out of the room.

“Thanks for the entertainment,” I call out as I step through the front door, leaving it hanging open on its hinges. “I’ll be sure to come again.”

Chapter Fifty-Two

Briony

The doctor releases me from the clinic the next day, instructing me to return in three days time for a follow up.

The Princes are waiting to escort me back, and to my utter surprise, they’ve come bearing gifts – a bunch of red roses and a very large box of chocolates.

“What are these for?” I ask with suspicion. Apart from the clothes Clare gifted me, the dress Fly made for me and the necklace I’m pretty sure Dray stole, it’s been an exceedingly long time since anyone gave me a present.

Dray looks down at the bunch of flowers he has in his hand with confusion.

“Isn’t this what you’re meant to get people when they stay in hospital?” He glances at his friends. “Isn’t this what girls like?”

“I didn’t say I didn’t like them,” I say. “It’s just … you’ve never really given me gifts before.” My gaze flits around them with embarrassment, trying not to let Odessa’s words bug me.

“Huh?” Dray says. “Seem to remember gifting you several mind-blowing orgasms, Kitten.”

“And a collar,” Beaufort growls. I nibble my lip and he seems to soften. “You’re our mate,” Beaufort whispers. “And we want to buy you things. So if there’s anything else you want …”

“Err, thank you?” I say, gazing at the gifts, a warmth spreading through my chest.

“How are you feeling?” Thorne asks me from two paces away.

“I feel dandy as a daisy.” I sigh. “However, apparently, I’m not 100% cured yet and once all the medication wears off later today, I’m going to feel the beating I underwent.” I sigh even more dramatically. “And let me guess what we’ll be doing this afternoon – circuits.”

“I think it’s another assault course,” Dray says. “Want us to get you out of it?”

I shake my head. After that attack, it’s even more clear to me how much everyone in this academy hates me. I don’t want to give them yet another reason.