Page 66

Chapter Sixty

B riony

I wasn’t entirely honest with Thorne. I may be better prepared for this trial than I was the last two – Clare’s made sure of that with all the studying we’ve been doing – but I’m not one hundred percent recovered from that attack, even after all the healing.

My legs are a little more unsteady than they were and my head is just a tad fuzzy.

It’s not the best way to be going into a potentially life-threatening trial.

I debate spending the entirety of the night tossing and turning, unable to sleep, but there’s nothing tying me to my room now. No egg to guard, no baby dragon to tend to. Which means …

The door to the Princes’ tower stands wide open and he is waiting there in the doorway as if he was expecting me.

“Hey sweetheart,” he says softly. “Couldn’t sleep?” I shake my head. “Me neither. ”

He holds out his hand and I take it, marveling at how nice the simple act of having my hand wrapped in his feels. It’s like a promise – I will take care of you, you are safe.

I stare down at our joined hands as we walk through the dark hallway, up the empty staircase and into his bedroom.

His fingers are long. His fingernails are blunt.

I can see the crisscross of veins beneath his fair skin.

The tips of his fingers are not calloused but there’s a strength in his grip and a magic that tingles against my skin.

“Where are the others?” I ask.

“Dray’s out running somewhere with the other shifters. Thorne’s already asleep.”

“So it’s just us?”

“Just us.” He brushes a loose strand of hair away from my face and strokes his knuckles down my cheeks, sweeping them under my jaw and into my hair. He sweeps my braid over my shoulder and then he’s untwining the band at the base and uncoiling my hair, shaking out the braid until my hair is loose.

“You know I’m going to ask you something.” He runs his fingers through my hair.

“And you know the answer is going to be no.”

“It would keep you safe.” He cups my jaw, and this time runs the pad of his thumb against my throat, tracing the place a collar would sit. “And it would look so beautiful.”

“I’ll be okay,” I say, even if I don’t feel sure of that.

“I can’t lose you, Briony,” he whispers.

“You’re not going to lose me.” I take his hand in mine, lift it to my mouth and kiss the palm where the lines of fate traverse his skin.

“When I thought we had … when I thought we’d lost you …” He swallows hard. “I can’t imagine my life without you in it, Briony. ”

“It would probably be a much more straightforward one,” I tease. “Imagine, you could have had a thrall like Odessa – very obedient and more than willing to be your little pet.”

He frowns. “I’m serious. I want you just the way you are.”

“Even though I drive you crazy?”

“Especially because you drive me crazy. There’s no one else I want, Briony. There’s no one I’m ever going to want. Only you.”

“Because fate has chosen me for you,” I say, turning his hand over and peering down at his wrist.

“Because I love you.”

I gaze up at him, utterly amazed by his words.

Love me? Beaufort Lincoln says he loves me?

A million thoughts crash through my mind. That he must be lying. That this must be a trick. That there is no way someone like him could love me. That this has always been about sex, hasn’t it?

But as I stare up into his silver eyes, I can see he isn’t lying. Sure, there’s lust and longing in his gaze, but there is more there too. So much more.

“I …” I mumble.

“You don’t have to say it back,” he says softly. He knows me well now. He understands these things are hard for me. “Not if you don’t feel it.”

“Beaufort,” I say, “I’m falling for you.

I think I could fall head over heels for you.

But that feels so dangerous.” Even more so than the trial tomorrow.

Because where does that leave us? Fate wants us together.

But there are forces even stronger than fate out there and will they pull us apart?

“Loving is difficult when you risk losing the thing you care most about in the world. I’ve learned that the hard way. ”

“Which is why I’ll never stop asking you to wear our collar.”

I place my hands on his broad, reliable shoulders and kiss him. He hooks his arms around my waist and pulls me flush against his chest, kissing me back.

Somewhere in the room a watch ticks and the fire crackles. But all I hear is the thud of his heart.

I kiss him for what feels like an eternity. Softly, serenely, saying with the actions of my lips, the words I find so hard to say with my mouth. He scoops me up into his arms, carries me to the bed and lays me out gently on the mattress.

“You’ll stay tonight?” he asks. “The whole night with me, Briony?”

“Yes,” I say and then we’re wriggling out of our clothes, and I’m in his arms again.

His body is heavy and warm against mine and I open my thighs, allowing him to lie between them.

He kisses me, cradling his arms around me, brushing his fingers over my cheeks again as if he wants to map the contours of my face.

He nudges at my entrance and I open my thighs wider letting him sink into me; an action that has us both groaning.

“You’re so beautiful,” he tells me over and over again as he fucks me slowly, languidly, as if we have all the time in the world and tomorrow isn’t looming over us like a thunderous cloud.

I trace my hand up and down his strong back, lift my hips to meet his tender thrusts, whisper nonsense words in his ears, kiss his cheeks as he kisses mine, hold him close like I don’t want to let him go.

Because I don’t.

I want to stay here in this perfect moment, with him buried inside me, with his weight pressing me into the mattress, with his mouth on my skin. I want to stay suspended in this paradise and never ever leave.

I wake early next morning with Beaufort’s arms still wrapped around me.

“Hey,” he says, yawning as I stir. “You okay?”

“Uh huh.” I peer towards the murky light filtering around the gaps in the blinds and roll up to sitting, stretching my arms above my head. “It looks like it’s time for me to go though.”

“Urgh,” he groans, “don’t go.” He pulls me back down and kisses my mouth. I sigh because this is bliss. But unfortunately I can’t stay. I squirm out of his arms and sit up again.

“I really do have to go. There’s no other choice.”

“At least stay for breakfast.”

I shake my head. “I promised I’d meet my friends. But I will take advantage of your warm shower.”

“Ahhh so this is the real reason you stayed the night.”

“Absolutely,” I say, bending down to kiss him again before I dart towards the bathroom.

“Can I join you?” he calls after me.

“I think that would be a bad idea. You’d make me late.”

“I can behave.”

I peer over my shoulder at him, catching him in the middle of ogling my ass. “Can you really?”

He grins at me and flops back down on the mattress. “Nope.”

I race into the bathroom, locking the door behind me – not that a locked door would stop Beaufort Lincoln if he wanted to come in – because I don’t want to be late for my friends today of all days and Beaufort is too much of a distraction.

When I emerge ten minutes later (after a shower that was ten times longer than my usual freezing cold one), I find him sitting on the edge of his bed, dressed in a pair of boxers.

“I made you a coffee.” He points at a steaming mug on the bedside table. “And found all your clothes.”

“Coffee?” I say. Just like chocolate, coffee is prohibitively expensive. We never had any back in Slate and the commoners’ canteen certainly doesn’t serve it. The bitter aroma wafts across the room towards me and tickles my nose.

“Does it taste nice?” I ask wrinkling up my nose as I slide on my panties and hook on my bra.

“Don’t tell me you never had it? I couldn’t live without this stuff.” He picks up the mug and carries it over to me. “Here, try.”

I give it another sniff. “Ewww.”

“Seriously, it’s good stuff and it’ll wake you up better than a bucket of cold water thrown over your head.

” I do feel sleepy after that warm shower – and because I spent half of the night fucking Beaufort – although it didn’t feel like fucking last night.

It felt much deeper than that. I may even understand why they now call it making love.

My cheeks warm at the idea – it sounds so cheesy and yet so true.

He holds the mug to my lips and I take a sip. The taste is dark and bitter, but I like it. I like it a lot, especially the way it has my head buzzing almost immediately. Maybe my taste in hot beverages is not that different from my taste in men.

“Mmmm, actually that is good. ”

“Told you,” he says, settling back down on the mattress and watching me dress.

When I’m dressed completely, I tip back the mug and swallow the last remaining dregs, then hand the cup back to Beaufort.

“I guess I’ll see you after the trial.”

He nods and we stare at each other. My heart suddenly feels heavy. What if I never see him again? But I push that thought aside. The Princes are the most powerful shadow weavers in the academy. They will breeze through this trial, whatever it may be.

“Take care of yourself, Briony Storm,” he tells me.

“Likewise, Beaufort Lincoln,” I tell him back.

Waiting for me in the hallway by the front door, I find Dray and Thorne.

“You’re up early,” I say, trying my best to sound bright and breezy, hoping if I fake it I’ll eventually feel it.

“Didn’t want to miss you, Kitten,” Dray says, before stepping forward and wrapping me in one massive, tight hug, burying his nose in my neck and taking a deep inhale. “You be careful, okay?”

“I will,” I say, hugging him back.

When he finally releases me, I peer up at Thorne. His features are blank and emotionless as always but he holds my gaze in his.

“Remember, what I said, Briony.”

“You too,” I whisper and then because I can’t stand this anymore, I rush out of the door and walk quickly back to my tower. I don’t like this sense of doom. It makes no sense. Do I just feel this way because I have more to lose this time round, more I hold dear?

I try not to think about it as I change into my gray tracksuit – repaired and patched up by Fly.

Instead, I try my best to go over everything we’ve been learning and reading instead.

Even before Thorne helped me in the maze, I was doing well.

I had a plan. And though I arrived last at the academy in the very first trial, I was one of the few commoners who didn’t receive a beating. I can do this. I’m sure I can.

Once I’m dressed, I go knock for Fly and we climb down the tower steps silently, my friend slipping his arm through mine as we walk across to the canteen.

Clare is waiting for us at our usual table, an untouched bowl of porridge laid out in front of her.

“How you doing, Clare Bear?” Fly asks her as he takes his seat.

“You know, nervous,” she says, trying to smile as she pushes her glasses up her nose.

“Did you manage to sleep?” I ask her. “Or were you up all night studying?”

“Erm,” she says, running her spoon through her porridge. “Well …”

Fly leans forward onto his elbow. “Did something happen?”

My mild-mannered friend looks up at us both with a wide, exuberant grin full of joy.

“Jeez,” I gasp, “what happened?”

“Damian and I spent the night together,” she whispers. “We went all the way!”

“All the way to where?” Fly says, feigning ignorance.

“To heaven and back I’d surmise by the smile on her face,” I say, punching Fly’s arm. Then I reach over the table and grab Clare’s hand. “I’m so happy for you. Was it good? Did you enjoy it? Are you like a thing now?”

“It was good,” she pulls a face, “I mean it took a bit of trying to make it work.” Fly sniggers and I kick him under the table. “And it wasn’t like earth-shattering like they’d have you believe in the romance novels but it felt really special.”

“It’s your first time,” I tell her. “It’ll get better with practice – especially when you’re so into each other.”

“We are.” I squeeze her hand, knowing exactly how she feels, and we both sit there caught in a bubble of loved-up bliss. That is until Fly goes and pops it.

“What do you mean you couldn’t get it to work? Is his dick crooked or something?” He’s eyes grow round in his head. “Or does he have a massive cock?!”

“I have no complaints,” Clare tells him, returning to her now lumpy and cold porridge.

“I’m really pleased for you, Clare Bear,” Fly says. “Especially as this means you won’t have to die a virgin.”

“Clare is not going to–”

“That’s why we decided to do it. No point in waiting. Especially as we could both be dead by the end of today.”

“No one is going to die!” I say, assuredly.

“Oh,” Clare says, adjusting her glasses.

“What?” I say.

“Statistically, this is the trial you’re most likely to die in. I looked at the numbers.”

“Why would you do that?” Fly cries.

“Morbid fascination.” Clare shrugs.

“No one is going to die,” I repeat, hoping with all my heart, I am correct.