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Chapter Fifty-Six

B riony

If I thought I was confused after all those revelations back at the clinic, I’m even more confused after that encounter with Fox in my room.

I’m not sure how I’m meant to feel about it.

Frightened?

This wasn’t how my time in the academy was meant to go. I was meant to keep my head down and learn the truth about my sister. Instead, I’m not only tangling myself up with three of the academy’s shadow weavers, I’m also messing around with one of the teachers.

Couple that with the dragon I have loose in the forest and I’m clearly asking for trouble.

Guilty?

Beaufort said he wouldn’t stand in my way with Fox but there’s a niggle in my gut that won’t go away. One that tells me I’ve been unfaithful or wronged them or something.

As I dress the next morning, I meet my reflection in the mirror. There’s the faintest of bruises on my throat from where Fox sucked on my neck, his fingers inside me.

A little whimper bubbles out of my mouth.

I shake my head.

What the hell am I becoming?

Before I arrived at the academy, I’d slept with one man and one man only. Now I’m sleeping with four – or at least, I’d like to be. It’s pretty damn confusing. Am I meant to feel this way? Or am I seriously screwed up?

I decide the only way to know is to talk to them about it like Clare suggested.

Yeah, who the hell am I? Because talking, sharing my feelings – that is not my usual go-to response. Are they changing me? Or is it this place?

I shut the wardrobe door and head off for my lessons. There won’t be a chance to speak with the Princes until tonight.

After dinner, Thorne meets me behind the academy buildings and we walk out the back way to the forest, right into the heart of the trees until we find Blaze.

On the way we talk about mundane stuff – today’s lessons, if my injuries are still hurting, the upcoming trial.

After I’ve spent an hour throwing sticks for Blaze, we walk back and I blurt out what I’ve been wanting to say the whole time.

“I need to talk to the three of you,” I say. His gaze springs my way. “I need to talk to you about Fox.”

“Professor Tudor?” he asks. I nod. “Okay.”

We don’t speak again until we reach the Princes’ tower. He opens the door and instructs me to take a seat in the lounge while he goes to fetch the others .

I’m too nervous to sit though, choosing to pace around the room instead as I bite at the inside of my cheek.

“Hey Kitten,” Dray says a couple of minutes later, bounding into the room. “This isn’t a Wednesday or a Saturday. Do we get more regular visits now?”

He skips right up to me, hooks an arm around my waist and drags me in for a long hard kiss. There’s pure delight and excitement sparking in his eyes when he pulls away. At least, there is until his eyes land on that bruise on my neck.

Oh crap!

“What’s that?” he asks, frowning as the other two join us in the room.

“It’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” I wriggle out of his embrace and take a decided step away. I can’t think straight pressed up against his hard body.

“What’s what?” Beaufort asks, hands deep in his pockets.

“A hickey,” Dray says, “on her neck. You responsible for that, Beau?”

“No,” he says, frowning.

“It was F– Professor Tudor,” I blurt out.

“Fuck,” Beaufort says, taking a step towards me. “Did he try to bite you?”

“No!” I say. “But …” I swallow, “we … did make out.”

I flick my gaze around their faces. Why do I care about how they are going to react to this news? Is it because I don’t want to hurt them? Is it because – as hard as I’ve tried – I’m developing feelings for these men?

My gaze falls to the floor and my throat constricts.

Damn it, Briony!

It’s just sex. That’s all it is.

“Is that what you came here to tell us?” Beaufort asks. His voice is neutral and I can tell by the tone he’s struggling to keep it that way – none of the usual snark or annoyance.

I look back up at him. He’s struggling to keep his face neutral too.

“Just made out?” My eyes flick to Dray. He’s smirking at me with wickedness in his eyes. “I find it hard to believe that’s all you did, knowing you, Kitten.”

“It was a little more than kissing,” I admit.

“Did you sleep with him?” Beaufort asks.

I shake my head.

“Did he touch you?” Dray asks, eyes glinting even more.

I hesitate, then I nod.

“Did he make you come?” Dray licks his lips.

I nod again. Dray grins like a maniac. Beaufort’s face remains neutral.

With trepidation, and for the first time, I peek at Thorne.

For once, his face isn’t neutral. His neck is corded, his jaw hard and his eyes … his eyes are swimming with hurt.

The sight of this man – so strong, so stoic, so damn hard – with pain like that in his eyes, breaks me. Tears prickle behind my eyes.

“Oh Thorne,” I gasp, reaching out towards him, then remembering and pulling my hands away. “Beaufort said … I didn’t mean … I would never …” My words fade away. I inhale and exhale, shame burning my cheeks. “I betrayed you.”

“No, you didn’t,” Beaufort says softly. “You’re his mate – just like you are ours. It’s what fate wants and we can’t stand in front of that – none of us can.”

I shake my head. “Thorne disagrees,” I mutter.

Beaufort and Dray turn to look at their friend.

The usually emotionless shadow weaver, screws shut his eyes. His shoulders rise and fall, and then he opens them again.

“You haven’t betrayed me, Briony,” he says.

“Then why does it look like I broke your heart,” I cry out.

He looks a little startled at my outburst. A sad smile flickers briefly over his face, then fades away, and it has those tears in my eyes rolling.

“It’s not …” He meets my eyes. “It’s what I want. I want to kiss you, Briony. I want to touch you.”

We gaze at each other over a distance. A distance that feels so vast. A distance that neither of us can close.

“I know,” I whisper. “I want that too.”

The pain spirals in his eyes again and then he’s turning and walking away.

“Thorne,” I cry, rushing forward, but Beaufort catches me in his arms.

“Don’t Briony,” he says gently, “you’ll only make it worse. Just let him be.”

“It isn’t fair,” I sob.

“Nothing is in this life,” Beaufort says, holding me tight.

Beaufort lets me sob into his chest, wrapping his arms around me and gently shushing me as he glides his warm palms up and down my spine.

All the intimate things we’ve done together and none has felt as intimate as this.

It makes me cry even harder because as I do, I realize I’m not just crying about Thorne, about this twisted situation, I’m crying about it all.

The loss of my sister. The loss of my dad.

All the cruel, nasty things Muriel ever said or did to me. How alone I felt. How lonely I’ve been.

All of it comes rushing to the surface and I ugly cry against Beaufort, leaving a wet mark on his shirt.

When there are no more tears to cry, he guides me gently to a chair, lowers me into it and swipes all the wetness from my face with his thumbs.

“Better?” he asks, resting his forefinger under my chin and tipping it upwards so I’m looking up into his face.

“A bit,” I confess.

“Want some ice cream? A hot chocolate?”

“Something with a bit more kick?” Dray asks, from where he’s watching us from the other side of the room.

“Ice cream, please,” I say. “I’ve never had one before.”

Beaufort pinches my chin affectionately, then pads away and Dray comes to sit by my feet.

“You really wanna touch Thorne that much, huh?” he asks, his vibrant eyes dancing over what must be my messed-up face.

I can’t help giggling. “It’s just been a lot. Everything that’s happened, I mean.”

“But, you do want to touch him?” he asks me, tugging off my boots and taking my feet into his lap, beginning to massage the soles with his thumbs.

“Jeez, that feels good,” I say, sinking further into the armchair.

“I’m exceedingly talented at making you feel good, Kitten,” he purrs, and I can’t help smiling again. “But, you didn’t answer my question.”

“Yes,” I confess. “I want to touch him. I want to touch all of you. Does that make me messed up?”

I’m not entirely sure why I’m asking Dray Eros for an assessment of what’s messed up or not. The shifter definitely skirts the fine line of crazy.

“Nah,” he says, bringing my foot up to his mouth and nipping my big toe. “I’d think you were more messed up if you didn’t.”

“Who’s messed up?” Beaufort asks, walking into the room with a large bowl in his hands.

He comes to sit on the arm of my chair, handing me the bowl and a spoon.

In the bowl rests a ball of something brown colored.

“Chocolate,” he explains. I dig my spoon into the substance.

It’s harder than I expected. I scoop up a little and bring it to my mouth. “Be warned. It’ll be cold.”

But despite that warning, it still takes me by surprise, that and the delicious, sweet flavor.

“Briony thinks she’s messed up because she wants to fuck all of us,” Dray says, kneading my feet again.

“That isn’t what I said.”

“But it’s what you were thinking.” He winks. “Tell me, Kitten, how exactly did that blood-sucking professor touch you? I’m dying to hear the details.”

I take a large scoop of the ice cream, shove it in my mouth and peer sideways at Beaufort.

“Ahh, don’t worry about him,” Dray says, “he may pretend he isn’t into all of that stuff, but trust me, Kitten, he is. He wants to hear as much as I do.”

I shake my head. “He doesn–”

“I do,” Beaufort says, and when I turn again to look at him, I find his features have darkened. It makes me shiver.

I squirm on the chair a little, taking the excuse of another mouthful of ice cream to work out what the hell I’m going to tell them.

“Are you embarrassed, Kitten?” Dray asks. “Because you didn’t seem at all embarrassed when I had my tongue up your pussy.”

“Jeez,” I mumble.

“How did he make you come?” Beaufort asks me, his silver eyes so smoldering, it’s enough to make a girl light-headed.