Page 3 of Taste of Thorns

The room is dark, the blinds drawn down and just the light from the landing filtering through. It’s barely enough to make out Thorne lying out on the bed, the covers drawn up to his chin and Dray seated in a chair by his bed.

“Hey, Kitten,” he says, leaping straight up onto his feet and strolling right up to me, bending down to kiss my mouth. Closer, I can see dark circles ringing his eyes too.

Either they found that trial a lot harder than the last one, or Thorne was a lot more injured than they’re making out and they’ve had to work hard to heal him. “Thorne is sleeping right now,” he says, taking my other hand in his.

“I won’t wake him,” I say, pulling my hands from their grasp and darting past Dray and into the darkened room.

Thorne’s eyes are closed, and his chest rises and falls under the cover. I can’t see any injuries on his face or his neck. They’ve been healed and his face is peaceful, not drawn tight with its usual tension.

I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding, and it leaves my mouth as a noisy, ugly sob, tears bubbling from my eyes and rolling down my cheeks.

He’s okay. He really is okay. I don’t think I’ve ever felt such relief.

I want, with all of my heart, to reach out and stroke his cheek, to place just one little kiss on his forehead, but I’m forced to hover by the bed and simply look at him instead.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” I whisper as I attempt to wipe away the steady stream of tears from my cheeks. “I was so scared I was going to lose you. So, so scared.” His eyes flicker under their lids but do not open, and he sleeps on. My hands curl into fists, my fingernails pinching the skin. Even when he’s not conscious, it’sdifficult to find the words. I’m not used to sharing my feelings with anyone else – not for a long long time anyway. “I’m sorry I didn’t stop them sooner. I’m sorry you got hurt. I’m sorry I didn’t protect you.”

Dray comes to stand next to me, hooking his arm around me and dragging me against him; I submit, curling against his body and blubbering into his solid chest. I can’t help it. All the tension, all the worry, all the fear and all the apprehension I’ve been holding, not just since the trial ended, but all the weeks in the run up to it too, comes cascading out, and all I can do is cling to Dray’s shirt and succumb to it all.

“Shhh, Kitten. It’s okay,” he says, stroking his hands up and down my back and nuzzling the crown of my head. “You’re okay. We got you. You’re safe now.”

“But Thorne? He’s really going to be okay?” I splutter once the sobs subside and I can speak again.

“Thorne? Shit, Briony, he’s been through a lot worse than this!”

“He has?” I say, alarmed.

“Yeah,” he says, hooking his forefinger under my chin and tipping it back so I’m looking up blearily into his face. He’s grinning at me, although I notice his eyes aren’t smiling like they usually do. They’re sad.

“I don’t understand it.” I sniff. “Thorne’s the strongest shadow weaver in the academy–”

Dray bristles. “One of the strongest,” he clarifies.

“He’s faced monsters before, hasn’t he? Why were those ones managing to hurt him? He wasn’t even trying to fight back.”

“Those weren’t monsters, Kitten. Those were shadows. His shadows.”

Chapter Two

Briony

I open my mouth to ask what in the realm he can mean, but Dray’s already leading me out of the room.

“I don’t want to leave him,” I protest, pulling against Dray’s arm, and peering back over my shoulder towards the bed.

“Yeah, but he needs to rest, and you’re one hell of a distraction, Kitten. Besides, there are things we need to talk about.”

The landing is empty, Beaufort and Fox missing. Dray guides me up the stairs and we find them waiting in Beaufort’s study.

I glance at the desk and my cheeks automatically heat – something Dray catches. He smirks at me, and I’m guessing there are no secrets between bond brothers – not many anyway.

As always, Fox is hugging the shadows, leaning against the far wall, arms crossed over his chest, right ankle crossed over the left.

Beaufort stands in the center of the room, turning as I enter. I wonder what the hell they’ve been discussing.

“Take a seat, sweetheart,” Beaufort says, pointing to the armchair towards the edge of the room as Dray perches on the edge of Beaufort’s desk. “Do you need anything? A drink? Something to eat?”

I shake my head and stay on my feet, wrapping my arms around my middle. I let my gaze flit from one shadow weaver to the next. A few months back, standing in a room with three powerful members of their kind would have made me uncomfortable. I would have feared for my life. But I guess I’m starting to trust these three, even if that’s really dumb. After all, I still don’t know who killed my sister, and I don’t know who has been manipulating the trials.