Page 55

Chapter Fifty-One

D ray

I let myself into the Hardies’ tower. No one is home and so I stroll through the first floor.

Their tower isn’t as luxurious as ours but the layout is similar.

On this floor there is a kitchen and a lounge.

I wander into the lounge, laugh at the fucking awful decor, then stride into the kitchen, pull out a chair and take a seat, swinging my booted feet up onto the tabletop.

I take my gum from my pocket, unwrap the silver foil and pop it into my mouth.

You see, if Beaufort was serious about me leaving Kratos and the others alone, he wouldn’t have sent me off without a babysitter. He knows exactly where I’d go and exactly what I’d do. Heck, I bet he’s counting on it.

I tap my fingers on the table, chewing on my gum, my toes tapping out a rhythm .

My magic vibrates in my veins, pushing at my fingertips and I swing my gaze around. I could take a leaf out of our little kitten’s book and trash this room. Then again, trashing Kratos’s face will be a lot more fun.

I don’t consider the fact that there are three of them until the front door opens and I hear their voices.

They’re fucking high as kites. And I know why. The anger in my veins roars.

“I’m in here, dickwads,” I call out. This has already taken too long. I want to get to the bit where I make them beg for mercy.

The chattering stops and then the three of them are standing in the doorway. Kratos at the front. First there’s shock on his face, but it’s quickly replaced by a smirk when he sees it’s just me.

I guess I am alone. Outnumbered, and Thorne is the one with the terrifying reputation.

That’s the thing about me. People never see it coming. Because I smile and crack the odd joke. Because I have the face I have, they think I’m good. They don’t see how bad I really am until it’s too late.

“Hey fellas,” I say. I blow a fuck-off big bubble with my gum and let it pop with a bang.

“Good to see you, Dray,” Kratos says, cracking the knuckles of his right fist into his left palm.

I spit my gum onto the floor.

“Well, I’d like to say the feeling was mutual, but I’d be lying.”

“Although, I’m a little surprised,” Kratos says. “I thought you’d be by your thrall’s bedside. Rumor has it she had a little accident.”

I swing my boots lazily off the table and rise to my feet, the tension in the room soaring dramatically. “Now, we all know it was no accident. And we all know who was behind it. Which means we all know why I’m here.”

I grin at them all. They peer round one another with an obvious air of a group of men who believe they have the upper hand. They don’t.

“You been sniffing too much grass, Eros.” Kratos’s second, Prentice, laughs. “’Cause you’re talking bullshit.”

The smile melts slowly from my face. “I’m not.

” I tap the side of my nose. “The thing about scents is they never lie – unlike people – so, you see, there’s no doubt in mind who was responsible, and while you boys may not have been there, may not have thrown the punches or kicked her body,” I say, my voice quiet and deadly, “I know you were behind it.”

“You know fuck all,” Kratos sneers.

I could transform straight into wolf form and tear these shadow weavers from limb to limb in a matter of seconds.

It wouldn’t be the first time. People believe Thorne is the most powerful and dangerous weaver in the academy but that’s because they’ve never seen my wolf at his most deadly.

But – despite what Beau and Tudor may believe – I’ve no interest in endangering our mate by starting a civil war.

The wolf is out of the question – I don’t know if I could prevent myself from going for the kill.

It’ll have to be the old human form.

A form that can still do a hell of a lot of damage.

“You’ve got two choices here, boys,” I tell them.

“You can get down on your knees and beg for forgiveness, grovel your little hearts out and come up with some damned inventive ways to make it up to our thrall – including giving me the names of all those who were involved. Or …” I grin be cause obviously I’m hoping they’ll choose the latter option, “I can make you hurt real bad.”

Kratos scoffs. “There are three of us, Eros, and one of you.”

“Yeah,” I say, “but you’re a bunch of pathetic dickheads who can barely wield a fart, let alone a shadow.”

It’s all the reason they need, the three of them are charging me at once, their magic shooting across the kitchen.

I lift my arm and let it bounce off me as if their magic is nothing more than raindrops. Then with a yawn, I open my fist and let all the shadows that have been raging since I smelled her blood on the forest floor, blast towards them.

You see, that’s what all these losers don’t understand.

They think it’s about control and intellect.

They think they can study hard, work out in the gym, train on the field, and one day they’ll be as powerful as me.

But shadow weaving isn’t about that. It’s about feeling and emotion.

It’s about your fucking soul. And right now my fucking feelings are vengeful, angry and destructive and nothing in the entire realm could stop them.

My shadows hit the three men with an explosion, sending all of them tumbling, groaning as they hit the ground.

I laugh.

“Ahhh, maybe I’m being unfair. You wanna do this the old-fashioned way?” I roll up my sleeves. “No magic?”

Kratos scrambles up onto his knees and fires magic my way; I swerve out of its path and stride towards him. The others are up on their feet too and together they send another flurry of blasts my way. I deflect some, dodge some others, but one hits my shoulder.

“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.”