Page 4 of Taste of Thorns

“Why do I have the teeniest suspicion you’ve all been talking about me?” I say.

“Because we do. Talk about you,” Dray says. “All the time. We talk about how wet your pussy smells, how tight and warm and perf–”

“You might,” Fox says, scowling at the shifter. “I have more damn respect.”

Dray shrugs. “Trust me, Prof. She loves it. She can’t get enough of my filthy mouth.” He makes a show of licking his lips and Fox’s eyes darken.

“Cut the bullshit, Dray,” Beaufort mutters, combing his fingers through his thick hair. Hair, which doesn’t seem out of place given he just spent an hour facing his ‘greatest fear’. “Of course, we’ve been talking about you. We’ve been trying to piece together what happened out there today.”

“And what did you conclude? You must have seen everything,” I say, directing my remarks towards Fox. “Weren’t you watching to hook kids out again?”

“Not this time. This time, students were on their own.” He shifts his weight. “Only I was watching you. Or at least I tried to.” He frowns. “The trial was manipulated again by sophisticatedmagic. It took a lot of …” he grimaces, “work to track you down. When I found you, you were with Thorne. I hooked you out, called these guys to come get their friend and then took you to safety.”

“Were you … working together?” I say, utterly dumbfounded.

“We had an understanding,” Beaufort says.

“It’s in all of our best interests to keep you safe and sound and purring along, Kitten,” Dray adds.

Fox peers up towards the heavens like any minute now he’s going to lose his rag with Dray.

Beaufort must sense it too, because he says quickly, “What I don’t understand is what the hell happened? How were you with Thorne?”

“I don’t know,” I say, shaking my head because all my thoughts are still so muddled. “I just … ended up there.”

Beaufort looks to Fox for an explanation, but the professor shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t know how it was done. But I’m pretty sure it was deliberate.”

“It felt personal,” I mutter, that image of Thorne suffering on the ground, his blood pouring from multiple wounds, his face twisted in pain, once again searing into my brain.

“I don’t know about that,” Fox says, “but I’m guessing someone wanted to test you.”

“What?” Dray says. He’s found a stick of gum and is chewing on it aggressively, hands tucked under his knees, gaze flicking around the room.

“Briony, I think it best you tell them what happened in the trial,” Fox says. I hold his gaze and weigh up my options.

I’ve kept so many secrets for so long. I’m not used to opening myself up. It feels unnatural, counterintuitive. I want to guard this secret as closely as my others. Isn’t it the only way to protect myself?

But then again, things have proven more complicated than even I imagined. Dragons, manipulated trials, demons. And light wielding.

I shake my head a second time, trying to order the thoughts in my head into some sort of sense.

“I finished my own trial,” I say carefully, “and I thought that would be it, that it would end and I’d be back in the academy. But I was taken somewhere else. At first, I thought maybe it was another stage of the trial, another level. And then I spotted Thorne on the ground, and these things, these,” I peer up at Dray, struggling to hold back yet more tears, “monsters were attacking him.”

“Where were you exactly, sweetheart?” Beaufort asks.

“I don’t know. Nowhere I’ve ever been before. It was desolate, bare and the sun was scorching.”

Beaufort glances at Dray and I have a strong suspicion that my description means something to him.

“Thorne was fighting the monsters?” Dray asks.

“No,” I say, the recollection of it making me shake. I wrap my arms more tightly around my body. I want to go back down to his room and check he’s okay. They said he was, but I never inspected his body. Under those covers he could be–

“Briony,” Fox says softly.

I cough, swallowing down the sob threatening to bubble into my throat as a lone tear tracks its way down my cheek.

“He wasn’t even trying to fight. He was curled up in a ball as the things attacked him. But it was as if he couldn’t even see them – he was just begging over and over for it to stop.”