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Chapter Forty-Nine

B eaufort

“Who?” I whisper, my eyes boring into my bond brother’s.

“The Hardies’ thrall and her band of merry little friends,” Dray answers.

“You’re sure about that?” Professor Tudor asks, rubbing his fingers through his beard.

“Absolutely. The little bitch stinks of jealousy and envy. It’s a real fucking distinct kind of flavor.” He wrinkles his nose.

“Kratos put her up to it,” I say.

“That’s one hell of an accusation to make.”

“Was it Kratos who manipulated the maze trial?” I ask the professor, glaring at him. Thorne said he knew who it was. Thorne said the professor would deal with it. Now I understand why he was so damn willing to help .

“No,” the professor answers, “and that problem has been dealt with.”

I shake my head. We seem to have fucking enemies in all directions.

“Kratos put his thrall up to this. You should have seen the way Kratos was sitting there in the truck on the way back to the academy,” I say, “grinning at me like he’d just been named the next Emperor of the realm.”

“That isn’t exactly evidence.”

“I don’t give a shit. I’m still going to rip out his throat. Followed by his ball sack … actually I’m going to go with his ball sack first, then his throat.”

“And start a civil war?” the professor dismisses.

“You don’t think he was attempting to start a civil war when he tried to get our thrall killed?”

“Something he will deny,” the professor points out, “and you have no proof.”

I grit my teeth. The professor is right. Not that I have to like it.

“So what you saying, Prof.?” Dray says in outrage, bouncing up on his toes, and getting all up in Tudor’s face. “We let him get away with it?”

“No, I’m saying barging in with all your magic firing, instead of thinking about it first, will only lead to trouble. And,” he says, clearly identifying our weak spot, “more danger for Briony.”

“Shit,” Dray says, backing away. Then his gaze flicks to mine. “We won’t be able to stop Thorne.”

“Does Thorne know who did this?” Tudor asks.

“No, not yet.”

“Then I suggest you hold off telling him until we’ve worked out what to do about this.”

“We have to strike back,” I say, “if we don’t, they’ll only try again and I won’t have Briony used as some kind of pawn in their power games.”

“We could kill their thrall,” Dray says, “an eye for an eye and all that. It would only be fair.”

“And you think they wouldn’t retaliate in return?” the professor says. “You think that would keep Briony safe?”

Dray lands his hands on the professor’s chest and pushes at him. “How about you stop criticizing all our ideas, and start coming up with some of your own suggestions then, brainiac?”

“We could take this through the official route.”

I groan, scrubbing at the back of my neck. “Are you serious?”

“You don’t think having their thrall expelled would piss the Hardies off?” he says with sarcasm.

“It doesn’t exactly seem like a just punishment for what they did, though.”

“How about if she were expelled and sent to Slate Quarter?”

Dray bursts out laughing. “Can you imagine the look on that little bitch’s face?” He turns to me again. “Could you make it happen?”

“Fuck,” I mutter.

Could I? Probably. If I say the right things, make the right promises. I’d also have to reveal information I’d rather keep to myself.

Then again, there doesn’t seem to be an alternative. Not one that prevents a war between shadow weaver factions.

“Yeah,” I say with very little enthusiasm. “Yeah, probably.” I scrub at my face. “I’m still going to beat the shit out of Kratos though.” The professor goes to argue with me. “I’ll make sure he keeps his ball sack and his throat. But I am going to make him hurt for this. ”

“Hurting his fragile pride,” Tudor says, “will always be more painful to Kratos than anything you can do with your fists.”

Dray spends the next hour fidgeting like a toddler on a sugar high, climbing across furniture, raiding a vending machine and interrogating any passing member of staff.

After a while I can’t take it any longer and send him off on a mission to find out more information about last night, who was involved and how they were persuaded to take part.

He bounds off eagerly, leaving just me and the professor behind.

“He is … a lot,” the professor mutters, rubbing at his eye sockets.

“He’s my bond brother,” I growl.

“Congratulations,” the professor says, showing his fangs off as he pulls a fake smile.

We sit in silence for another hour, both eyeing each other, until the doctor arrives accompanied by two nurses.

Immediately, we both spring to our feet.

“Is there a problem, doctor?” Tudor asks, beating me to it.

“No,” she says. “I’m just going to check in on my patient and give her another dose of treatment.”

“Will this heal her completely? Will she need more? Was there any permanent damage?” I word vomit.

“Beaufort Lincoln?” she says, staring at me with surprise.

“She’s our thrall,” I say, answering her obvious question: why the hell are you interested in this girl from Slate ?

“How about I finish this treatment and then come back to update you?”

“I’d like to observe the treatment.”

The doctor hesitates, obviously unsure whether she can refuse me.

“Come on, Lincoln,” the professor says, slamming his cold hand on my shoulder. “Let’s leave the doctor to do what she needs to do in peace.”

I consider arguing the point but I want Briony healed – the sooner the better.

The doctor nods hesitantly and then ducks inside the room with the two nurses. I sit back in the chair, watching the minutes tick past on my wristwatch, wondering how long this could take.

Her injuries must be bad if it’s taking this long, if they’re keeping her in the clinic like this.

I rub at my cheeks with my hands and peer at the professor.

He’s still here, unwilling to leave her side.

Is he telling the truth? Is she his mate as well as ours?

I remember my mother telling me never to trust a bloodsucker. Then again she made it clear I shouldn’t trust anyone. Some days I wonder if I can even trust her.

And what if he is telling the truth? What the hell does that mean?

This girl from Slate Quarter – scars on her back from where she’s been abused – has not just three powerful mates, she has four.

I strain to see that vision in my mind’s eye. It had been so fucking fleeting and yet so vivid, so intense. I hadn’t just seen it. I’d felt it in my bones, in my blood, in my marked soul. But had there been a fifth person in that vision? A fourth mate? Another man?

Perhaps there had been – a shadow, lurking in the background.

“What do you think it means?” I ask the professor.

“I think she was badly injured and the doctor needs time to heal her properly.”

“No, I mean – us, her.” I meet his glowing eyes. “Do you really think fate has brought the five of us together?”

“All I know is that it has brought me to her.”

“I’ll have to take your word for that.”

“Yeah, and I’ll have to take yours.”

We stare at each other. The professor rubs his fingers against his bearded chin.

“I don’t know why fate has brought us together. But I guess we’ll find out.”

“I don’t like surprises,” I say petulantly.

“Life is full of surprises. It’s the one constant you can depend on.”

Except I have the vision. Tiny insights into what’s coming. If only I could have one that would answer this question.

“Have you told anyone?” he asks me. “About your situation with the girl.”

“No, as far as anyone else knows she’s just our thrall.” I hold his gaze. “I’d like to keep it that way. And I’m assuming you won’t be telling anyone about your situation, seeing as you’re her teacher.” I spit the last word and he draws his hands down his face.

“No, I won’t be telling anyone.” He drops his hands into his lap. “But before you ask, no, I won’t be staying away from her either. I tried that, and it nearly got her killed. Twice.”

“I’m sleeping with her,” I say, not sure if I say it as a boast or to provoke the dude. “It won’t be long before Dray is too.”

“She get a say in that?” he growls.

“She gets a very big say in that.” I smirk.

“Real mature,” he mutters.

I lean back in my chair. “Do you want to sleep with her, Professor?”

“I think that’s her choice to make and none of your business.”

“She’s my girl. Of course, it’s my business.”

“She’s my mate,” he says, “it’s inevitable.”

I hold his gaze, jealousy erupting around my body, but I can’t deny the truth of the statement. The attraction between mates is too strong. No matter how hard two people fight it – destiny and desire combined are two brutal forces.

“It seems to me we have two choices, Beaufort.” He leans against the wall, folding his arms over his broad chest. “We can be rivals. We can fight for her attention and her affection. We can make each other’s lives and hers hell.

Or we can accept the situation as it is and work together to keep that girl safe.

Because,” he says, “whatever our fate, I suspect it has something special in store for her – I can’t understand why it would have brought the three of you together, and then brought all of us to her otherwise. ”

I’m quiet for sometime, mulling over his words as voices murmur in the room behind and machinery somewhere deeper in the clinic whirs away.

“Okay,” I say finally, “I think we should work together.”

“Does that mean,” he says, eyes locked on me, “that if she wants to be with me, you won’t stand in our way?”

“Are you asking me if you can sleep with her? ”

“It’s not your choice.” He hesitates. “But I’d like to know you were okay with it all the same?”

I scoff. “It’s hard enough knowing I have to share her with two other men as it is – and they are my bond brothers–”

“I’m not exactly thrilled with the idea myself,” he mumbles.

My hands are damp with perspiration and I rub them along my thighs.

“But then sometimes I think about what it would be like to share her …”

I let that idea hang in the air and we’re silent again.

“It’s her choice,” the professor repeats.