Page 150 of Storm of Shadows

I wince at the thought. I may be fuming at her. Her words may have cut deeper than I’d ever care to admit. But the girl has gotten under my skin and into my blood, as ingrained there as my magic itself, and I cannot shake her. I don’t like the idea ofher being hurt. I want her safe. I want her safe by my side – even if she’s hissing and spitting at me the whole time.

This rift between us is unsustainable. Time to heal it.

“Here she comes,” Dray says, catching her scent and nudging me rather too aggressively with his elbow.

I glare at him, then peer through the darkness and see her hobbling towards us. My breath catches in my throat. She is hurt.

“Briony,” I call out, already striding towards her, the other two right by my side. “What the hell happened? Are you hurt?”

“Happened?” she says. “Nothing happened.” She wipes her hands over her face.

She’s lying. Her clothes are torn to shreds, cuts litter her skin, burns mark her face, and some of her hair has been scorched away. Okay, lots of the students are walking around looking like shit tonight – nobody looks like this.

But it’s the something in her eyes that confirms to me she’s lying.

“Nothing happened?!” Dray says. “You think we’re stupid or something?” She stares at him silently and he frowns. “Where have you been, kitten?”

“None of your business.” She stares right ahead, not meeting my eyes.

“It is our business,” I snap. I came to make up with her, to tell her I’m sorry, to take care of her, but already this damn conversation has twisted in some other direction. Why does she have to be so obstinate? Why does it make my hackles rise?

“Just leave me alone,” she says, tears trickling from her eyes. She swipes at them. “I want nothing to do with–”

“Where are you hurt?” Thorne cuts right across her, glaring at her with such ferocity I’m surprised the girl isn’t shaking in her shredded boots.

“I’m not …” It’s clear she was going to argue that she wasn’t hurt, but something about the way Thorne is glaring at her, has her changing tact. “It’s not that bad.”

“Then why do you smell like you’ve been fried in a pan?” Dray says, nostrils quivering. “No one else smells like this.” He turns towards Thorne, tilting his head. “Was there something in that maze that could do this?”

Thorne shakes his head.

“What happened?” I growl.

“It doesn’t concern you,” she says, dragging her eyes away from Thorne and attempting to push her way past us. Thorne steps backward as she steps towards him but I block her path.

“You need healing,” I say, trying to make my voice gentler. She’s hurt. I don’t like seeing her like this. I want to make her better. I want to lay my hands on her again. I want to mend the argument between us.

“I don’t need your help. I don’t need anything from you.”

“Let us heal you!”

“No,” she cries, desperately shaking her head. “I don’t want anything from you. I want nothing to do with you.”

“Don’t be a fool. Tell us what happened and we’ll sort it out.”

“No!”

“For star’s sake, Briony! Why not?”

“Because I don’t trust you!” I stare at her dumbfounded. She doesn’t trust us. After everything we’ve done for her. “How could I? How can I trust anyone in this place?”

“Damn it, Beaufort, just tell her,” Thorne mutters.

Immediately her eyes snap from me to him.

“Tell me what?”

I stare back at her. There are tiny puncture marks on her throat, a burn mark across her left cheek, bruising on her forehead and her right eye is slightly swollen. The remnants of old tear tracks are visible on her face.