Page 21 of Taste of Thorns

“Is he?” Beaufort asks. “My mom always said never to trust a bloodsucker.”

“Well, the Empress must trust them seeing as Bardin is running this school!”

“Does she know that, though?” Dray says. “The Empress might believe the Head is in charge.”

“We should go to the Head,” Beaufort says, “tell him about this. We should go right now. You should have gone right from the start.”

“And what would be the point?” I say. “Like you said, I’d need evidence. It’s my word against Bardin’s. And who will they believe? The Deputy Head of the academy or some girl from Slate Quarter?”

“They’ll believe me!” Beaufort says with his usual arrogance.

“You weren’t there!”

“I say, we go pay the Madame a visit,” Dray snarls, “l’ll happily strangle the truth out of her.”

“No,” I say, “besides, she knows someone helped me in the maze. If she confirms it was Thorne, this could all backfire. Do you want Thorne banished?!”

“I want you safe!” Beaufort says, banging his fist down hard on the table and making all the plates leap into the air.

“Then we have to be smart,” I say. “We need a plan.”

“I hate plans,” Dray growls. “And do you actually have one anyway?”

I shake my head. “We need to think on it.”

“And in the meantime, you need to stay away from Tudor,” Beaufort says, his coiled fist still straining on the table top, his shadows curling around his hand.

“Erm, no!”

“Damn it, Briony. Just do as you’re told for once. We don’t know if we can trust him.”

“I do. I trust Fox Tudor. I trust him with my life. And you don’t get to tell me what to do, Beaufort Lincoln.”

His fist grows so tight, I can see the white of his knuckles through the taut skin and his shadows hiss in the air.

“I do,” he says. “Because I am your protector and you are my thrall.”

Chapter Six

Briony

“No,” I say, “that isn’t how this works. I am not yours to order about.”

He glares at me. “I’m trying to keep you safe.”

“Are you?” I challenge. “Or do you just get a kick out of telling others what to do?”

“He totally gets a kick out of it,” Dray mutters.

Beaufort grimaces and closes his eyes. “I want to keep you safe. Ineedto keep you safe, Briony. But you never listen to sense, damn it. First the collar. Now this.”

“I am allowed to have my own opinion, Beaufort. I am allowed to do things my own way. Just because I’m a girl. Just because I’m from Slate. It doesn’t give you the stars’ born right to control me.”

“I’m not trying to control you,” he says through gritted teeth. “Why does everything have to be an argument?”

Dray chuckles and we both turn our heads in unison and glare at him. “Because you are both pig-headed and both stupidly stubborn.”

“I am not,” I say, bristling.