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Chapter Twenty-Nine

B riony

When I return to my room after afternoon lessons, telling my friends I’m skipping dinner to catch an early night, I find it less trashed than lunchtime and Blaze curled up on top of my bed sleeping.

Several of my socks have been strewn across the floor, several of them ripped to pieces, and the cage has once again been scorched, but there are no half-eaten rats this time.

As I climb onto the bed beside him, I discover why. He lifts his head, yawns, attempts to lick my face, then shoots up into the roof, yanks a rat out of the rafters by its tail and swallows it whole.

“Yuck, Blaze, that is seriously gross!”

Although, I have to admit, it’s better than rat remains all over the room.

He spins some somersaults in the air, letting out some puffs of smoke, dive bombs one of my socks, then settles back into the bed beside me.

“I’m not sure I should be letting you sleep up here with me,” I tell him, as he begins to purr, “I think it sets a bad precedent.” I assume Blaze is going to grow pretty big.

He’s already grown on this first day. Eventually he’ll be crushing the bed with me in it.

But he’s so damn sweet, little legs twitching as he falls asleep, that I can’t help relenting.

“I’d be really grateful if you wouldn’t wake me up throughout the night,” I yawn, as I snuggle into him and drift asleep.

I wake to Blaze nudging my cheek with his beak before spreading his wings and whizzing about the room. A slice of dim gray light by the window tells me it’s at least several hours before the seven o’clock bell.

I lie in bed watching the little dragon zooming about the rafters. This is surreal, totally surreal, and several times I pinch my thigh just to check I am awake.

It’s also clear this dragon has way too much energy and confining him in this room is going to be difficult. When he hovers by the window, whining, I decide I need to let him out.

“Blaze,” I say, and to my surprise he comes flying right towards me, landing on the mattress. “We can go outside, but you have to promise to stay hidden. No …” I scrabble for the best word to describe the strange noises this fellow makes, “growling.”

I am probably mad, but the way he stares at me with those golden eyes has me convinced he understands me. Of course, that’s totally impossible and this plan I’m forming in my head very likely to go horribly wrong.

I dress quickly, then wrap myself in the winter coat Clare’s given me and invite Blaze inside. He understands immediately, snuggling into my chest as I fasten the coat around us.

Okay, I look an unusual shape, but hopefully no one will be up this early.

Even Thorne. I still take a deviating route out to the forest, avoiding the field just in case the shadow weaver is there early this morning.

While I don’t mind him seeing us (although I’m sure he won’t approve of this plan), if he’s out there, there’ll be at least one or two of his oglers watching and I don’t want them spotting me with my bundle.

I walk several feet into the forest until we’re well hidden and then I peer down into my coat, finding Blaze peering back at me.

“I’m going to let you out for about an hour of play time.

” Talking to a dragon this way is ridiculous.

He is not Barney, my old dog. Then again, it seems as good a way of talking to him as any other.

“Do not fly above the tree-line, stay down in the canopy, okay?” He blinks up at me.

“I’m serious, if you fly up high, you’ll be spotted and then …

” He cocks his head as if waiting for my next words.

“And then … I don’t know exactly, but I’m not sure it will be good for you or for me. ”

I unbutton my coat and immediately Blaze zigzags through the trees with so much speed and energy, it’s hard to keep track of him.

Alarm shoots through my gut. If he takes off now, I’ll never be able to catch him, and I’ll have no hope of finding him.

Although, as I watch him swoop up into the branches and pluck a squirrel twice his size from the branches, I query whether he actually needs me. He can clearly take care of himself.

Should I let him go? Is it fair to keep him hidden away in my room?

The little dragon answers my question for me .

He comes hurtling back through the trees, dropping the now-deceased squirrel at my feet.

“Jeez, thanks?” I say.

The dragon turns somersaults, then shoots away again.

I stare down into the squirrel’s vacant eyes. Is that meant to be a present or a death threat?

Before I make up my mind, the little guy is back again, this time stopping to lick my face three times before zooming back into the canopy.

I wipe my face with my sleeve. I am going to need to scrub myself extra hard under the shower in the morning, otherwise even those with the weakest olfactory skills will be able to smell dragon on me.

The next hour passes in much the same way: Blaze flying up into the branches, sniffing around dead piles of leaves and generally causing mischief, but returning every few minutes to check I haven’t gone anywhere.

When the academy clock bell clangs seven, I call his name, and he comes fluttering in to land on my shoulder, this time taking issue with my bun, growling, pulling and biting at it.

“Hey, I’ve already lost patches of hair.

I don’t need to lose any more.” I lift him off my shoulder and cradle him in my arms, stroking at his head.

“I’m afraid it’s time to go back,” I say, with a yawn.

The dragon whimpers as if he understands but doesn’t struggle as I tuck him back into my coat and smuggle him back up to my room.

The next few days, Blaze and I fall into a routine.

We rise early every morning and I sneak him out to the trees for an hour’s fly-around.

He spends the day in my room hunting rats, destroying my socks and napping on my bed.

I sneak him out for a late night flight after dinner and then we snuggle up together in my bed.

My friends are a little on the annoyed side, assuming I’m sneaking off to spend time with the Princes – but it’s not like they can complain about that.

Both of them encouraged the relationship.

I’m also extra careful to scrub in the shower and change my clothes after every snuggle with the little dragon, although I still have to endure another lesson with Fox scowling at me and scrunching up his nose.

Dray makes one comment about me smelling strange right before history class but then I secure a seat at the back of the classroom away from him so that he can’t spend the entire lesson sniffing at me.

By Saturday afternoon, I’m exhausted. The academy, with all its demands, is not exactly an easy ride as it is.

Throw in a demanding baby dragon and I seriously need about two weeks’ sleep.

After yet another grueling circuit training – one I’m most definitely am not acing like last time – I collapse down on the grass and try to catch my breath. Clare collapses down beside me.

We’re halfway through a serious bitching session about circuits and exercise in general, when a shadow falls over us both.

“Exercise is essential for a healthy body and a healthy mind,” Beaufort Lincoln says, standing over us dressed in shorts that show off a pair of muscular thighs and a shirt that stretches over his impressive chest. I can’t help but let my gaze meander over him. He definitely has a very healthy body.

“Perhaps,” I tell him, “but it still sucks.”

“If you ate more, it would suck less.”

Clare snorts. Then covers her mouth with her hands and looks up at Beaufort with alarm. “Sorry,” she mutters meekly.

“What was so funny?” he asks with amusement.

“Briony eats plenty. She has a very big appetite.” Beaufort cocks an eyebrow at me and I can guess how he’s interpreting that comment. “In fact, I don’t know how she does manage to eat so much. The food in the canteen is disgusting.”

Beaufort looks at me for a minute, hands on his hips, beads of sweat racing down his neck in a way that shouldn’t be as sexy as it is.

“Come to our tower at seven tonight. You can eat with us.”

I raise my own eyebrow. “Hello, Briony,” I say. “Do you have any plans for tonight? Would you like to have dinner with me?”

Clare swings a wide-eyed gaze from me to Beaufort, obviously alarmed I talk to the all-mighty Beaufort Lincoln with such sarcasm.

“You do have plans,” he says, kicking at the grass, “with me.”

“It would still be polite to ask.”

He huffs and strides away.

“Sometimes I think you like to provoke him,” Clare says. “Is it because it makes things hotter between the two of you?”

“No,” I squeal, rolling on to my side and punching Clare on her arm.

She laughs. “Just saying. He invited you to dinner. That was a nice thing to do.”

“Yeah,” I say, rolling up to my feet. “But it was the way he asked. ”

“I wish someone would ask me to dinner,” Clare says, peering across the field wistfully.

“Do you need to wait to be asked? Couldn’t you ask someone yourself? (and by someone are we referring to the boy in your history class?)”

“Ask him?” she says, eyes wide behind her glasses.

“Yeah, why not? This isn’t the sixteenth century.”

“But what if he said no?”

“You’d be no worse off if he did. And we’ll give him such evil looks for the rest of his time at the academy, he’ll wish he was never born.”

Clare giggles. “I’ll think about it.”

I offer out my hand and yank her to her feet. “Don’t think about it, just do it. That’s my motto … which, come to think about, it may be why I end up in such shit.”

“Come on,” Clare says, “I think dinner with Beaufort Lincoln calls for a new outfit.”

I sneak back to my room first to check in on Blaze. I promise him I’ll be back in time for his evening fly-around, and then I meet Fly on the landing and we walk over to Clare’s.

“You’ve been spending a lot of time in your room lately,” Fly says casually as we weave around a group of students passing around a bottle of alcohol.

“Have I?”

“Yes. Are you sure you don’t have a fourth Prince hidden away in your room, Cupcake? Or maybe you have your own thrall.”

“Can commoners have thralls?” I ask, trying to divert the conversation as best I can.

“Sure they can. I mean it’s not like it is here in the academy with collars and protection and shadow magic.

But if two consenting adults want to establish that type of relationship …

of course,” he adds, with a frown, “there are relationships where it isn’t consensual and that is just plain abusive. ”

I think of how Muriel used me as her own personal servant, forcing me, a young kid, to do all the chores and jobs she hated the most. How she made me do them even when it didn’t seem like they needed doing.

“And that’s why I hate this stupid thrall thing. A relationship is one thing – being a thrall quite another.”

“So you’re in a relationship with the Princes now?”

I stop walking. Am I? And am I happy about that? I didn’t really have much choice about things in the beginning but lately I’ve been spending time with them – doing things with them – of my own free will.

It just sort of happened. I haven’t stopped to consider if I’m happy about it.

If this mate thing is real, is this fate pulling us together?

“Don’t tell me, Cupcake,” Fly says, pulling on my arm. “It’s complicated.”

Clare’s door stands ajar, one of her records playing softly in the background. We find her arranging potential outfits on the bed. Fly goes over to inspect them.

“I like the way you’ve matched this skirt with this sweater. Your taste is definitely improving,” he comments. “It’s down to my influence.”

I pull Clare to one side as Fly rearranges clothes items. “Did you do it?”

Clare adjusts her glasses and nibbles on her lip. “Not yet, Briony. Give me a chance!”

“You need to do it before you build it up into this big thing and chicken out.” She grimaces. “Would you like to have dinner with him?” She hesitates, then nods. “Then do it. ”

“Okay, okay,” she says.

We agree on the skirt and sweater Clare picked out because, to quote Fly, “it shows off your legs and makes your chest look bigger than it is”.

Then I kiss them both goodbye, guilty I’m leaving them for another evening, and hurry along to the Princes’ tower. I could deviate quickly to check in again on Blaze, but the bell chimes seven. I pick up my pace and am knocking on the door a few minutes later.

I cringe at the realization that Beaufort has already trained me to be here on time.

Son of a bitch.