Page 44 of Taste of Thorns (The Firestone Academy #3)

Chapter Forty

B eaufort

A stunned silence sweeps through the room.

“What?” Dray says, his lips flickering between a smile and a frown. “Was it Beau who hit his head or was it you, Kitten?”

“No,” Briony says, the light still radiating from her palm. “There’s a juvenile dragon out in the caves at the edge of the forest, and he belongs to me. I’m pretty sure he’d do anything to protect me. And I’d do the same for him. If I couldn’t handle Bardin, Blaze would come to my rescue.”

“Bl-blaze?” I splutter.

“It’s the name of her dragon,” Tudor says.

I stare at the professor. I don’t know if we’re right to be trusting the man. He’s a blood sucker like the Madame. Fuck, he was sleeping with her.

Everything on his face tells me he’s serious, though.

“This is true?” I say, fucking flabbergasted.

“Yes,” Thorne says from across the room.

“You knew about this?” He nods. “How long have you known?”

“I was there when the dragon hatched several weeks ago.”

I whip my head around to Dray. “Did you know too? Am I the only one in the fucking dark?”

“Me?” Dray says, bouncing on his toes and chewing on his lip. “I don’t know if this is one giant wind up, if you’re all trying to prank me…”

He trails off. Thorne doesn’t prank around and his face is even more serious than the professor’s.

“Why exactly would I make something like this up?” Briony says, looking as irritated as I feel.

“Why exactly would you keep something like a fucking dragon a secret from us?”

“I’m telling you now, aren’t I?”

“Who else knows?” I say, my irritation growing.

“Fly and Clare.”

“Anyone else? The Titan twins perhaps? Maybe that girl you once sat next to at lunch?”

I glare at her. She’s chosen to tell her friends but not her own fated mates. That hurts, more than I care to admit.

Dray’s eyes grow impossibly wide in his head. “Damn – that’s that fucking weird smell in the forest, isn’t it?”

“Smells like lizard?” Tudor asks.

“Yeah – lizard.”

I puff air out of my nostrils, pacing to the window and then back towards our thrall. “Wait,” I jab a finger at her, “a dragon? How is that even possible? Where the fuck did a dragon come from?”

She tells me some incredible story about a stone – a firestone – calling to her from a forest out in Slate Quarter. It’s a story I’d find impossible to believe if light wasn’t dancing across her palm at this very moment.

“And this dragon is just out there in the forest right now fluttering about?” Dray says, still looking hella confused.

Briony nods and the next thing we know our shifter friend is bounding towards the door.

“Well, come on,” he beckons over his shoulder, “I wanna see it.”

“Because all five of us trudging across the field towards the forest together isn’t going to rouse suspicions,” Tudor says with sarcasm.

“Fine, then,” Dray growls out between his teeth, “seeing as you and Thorne have already met the scaly dude, you can both stay here, while Briony introduces us to this dragon.”

“We need to talk more about the plan, about how exactly we can trap Bardin,” Briony insists.

But Dray’s not having any of that, he hooks his arm around her waist and man-handles her towards the door, grabbing her a coat as he does. I follow after them, pausing in the doorway and peering back at our silent bond brother.

“We’ll talk more about this later,” I say.

Briony’s been keeping secrets from us ever since we met.

I’m not surprised she has yet another one – even if it’s just as incredible and mind-blowing as the last revelation.

But Thorne? I didn’t think we kept secrets from each other.

We’ve been there for him through everything – waiting patiently for those dark moments to pass, fighting by his side when we’ve faced the demons.

And yet, he’s kept something like this from us for weeks and weeks.

We reach the cover of the forest in a matter of minutes, careful to avoid anyone out on the paths and on the lookout for anyone who may be watching us, Dray’s nose twitching for any unusual scents on the breeze.

A few yards into the forest, Dray stops and sniffs at the air aggressively.

“Fuck, there it is. No wonder I didn’t know what that was – I’ve never smelled anything like it before.”

“What does it smell like?” Briony asks.

“Like … fire and smoke.”

We walk on, into the densest part of the forest where there are no paths and the trees crowd together blocking out the dark sky above.

We’ve come so far we must be nearing the edge where the forest meets the first hills of the Highlands, and soon we’re stepping out from under the trees, immediately meeting the steep slope of a hillside.

“This way,” Briony beckons and we follow her around the base of the hill to the entrance of a cave.

“Shit,” Dray says, waving his hand in front of his face. “That stinks. Is he in here?”

“Yes,” Briony says, stepping over the remains of animal carcasses and into the cavernous space of the cave.

I grab her arm.

“Is this safe?” I caution.

“Perfectly,” she assures me. She casts her arm over her head and suddenly the entire cave is illuminated with white light and there, laid out on the hard cave floor in front of us, is a dragon, its golden head resting on its front paws, its long scaly body curled out behind it.

It’s the size of a shire horse – not fully grown, a little on the skinny side from what I can tell, but its scales sparkle brilliantly in the rays Briony has summoned, its large golden eyes fixated on her.

“Hello, Gorgeous,” she says, rushing towards him and stroking her hand up and down the creature’s snout as it lifts its head, its powerful tail suddenly thumping the floor. “I brought some new friends to see you.” She bops the creature on the nose. “They’re special friends, so be nice, okay?”

The creature grunts, then lumbers to his feet and both Dray and I lift our hands in unison. Briony spies the action and frowns.

“Hurt him and I will fry both of you for breakfast!”

“Fry us, huh?” Dray says, lowering his hands and grinning. “I like this new Kitten, even more feisty.”

The dragon, its tail now sweeping side to side like an excitable dog, comes bounding towards us both and stops in front of Dray.

“Hey, dude,” Dray says, meeting the dragon’s gaze and nodding at the creature. In response, the dragon drags its very wet, very slimy tongue up Dray’s cheek.

“Does he like me?” Dray asks, “or is he having a taste before he considers whether to eat me or not?”

“He likes you,” Briony says, coming to stand by the dragon and pat his stomach. The dragon swings its head towards me and I take a step away.

“Nice to meet you,” I say, “but I’m not into having my face licked.”

“He does when it’s you, little Kitten,” Dray chuckles.

“She’s a lot cuter.”

“Don’t listen to him, Blaze,” Briony says, leaning in closer to the dragon, “you’re super cute.”

“So,” my bond brother says, bouncing up and down on his toes. “What does he do?”

“Do?” Briony asks.

“Yeah, you said he’d help you out if Bardin attacked you so he must do something. Does he have super powers or something?”

“He’s a dragon, dickhead,” I say. “I’m assuming that means he can breathe fire.”

Briony nods proudly.

“Yeah,” Dray shrugs, “but so can I.”

He lifts his hand to his mouth, his shadow magic curling across his palm, then blows out a puff of air; the shadows morph into fire and shoot across the cave. The dragon growls lowly.

“What else can he do?”

Briony bites at her lip.

“Erm, he can fly.”

“Cool, cool,” Dray says, nodding his head rapidly. “Can you ride him?”

Briony looks at the dragon, who’s rubbing its head against her body, then back at us.

“No.”

Dray looks at me with slumped shoulders. “I don’t get what’s so great about him. Wolves seem way more versatile if you ask me.”

The dragon growls a second time, before blasting a fireball – about ten times bigger than Dray’s – right out the front of the cave. It hits a tree, the thing exploding into flame.

I’m assuming that means it can understand us.

“Are you kidding?” I say. “It’s a dragon, Dray. They are the ultimate war machines. The shadow weaver warriors of old used to ride them. If there were more of them, we’d be able to rid the realm of the threat from demons once and for all.”

“If they’re so fucking great, why’d they die out?”

“Wasn’t it dragon pox or something?” Briony says.

“Yes, it wiped out the entire population,” I say.

“Dragon pox,” Dray sniffs, “I had that as a kid. Barely left a scratch on me.”

I come to stand alongside Briony and reach out to stroke the dragon’s back as she is doing.

His scales are surprisingly warm and smooth.

It’s not just its size that betrays its young age.

I remember poring over books as a kid, transfixed by the illustrations of old war dragons, their scales rough and scarred from battle.

“They said there was a unique bond between the old war dragons and their warriors. They said it was the dragon that chose its rider. And it called you.” I glide my hand right along the dragon’s back, towards its long forked tail. “Have you tried riding it?” I ask Briony.

“Isn’t he a little young for that? I wouldn’t want to hurt him.”

“Yeah, and he could throw you off,” Dray mutters, still sulking.

“Briony, it’s bigger than a horse, and strong,” I add, feeling the compact muscle of the dragon beneath his scales. “What do you say, Boy? Would you let her ride you?”

The dragon throws back his head and snorts.

“I think that’s a yes,” I say.

“Beaufort, don’t be–” she says, then squeals as I take her by the waist and lift her up onto the dragon’s back.

She attempts to swing her leg back over, most probably in the hope she can slide right off, but the dragon is already striding toward the cave entrance and she’s forced to cling onto his scales.

“Are you fucking crazy?” Dray says, as the dragon spreads its wings and I watch as he flaps the things, his feet rising from the ground, Briony straddling his back. “She could fall and break her neck!”

“Trust me,” I say, “she won’t.”

“You’ve been reading too many kids’ books, Beau.” Dray steps forward and cups his hands around his mouth. “Okay, that’s enough little fellow, you can bring her back down now.”

But the dragon ignores that command completely. He flaps his sinewy wings, the sound like claps of thunder, and soon he’s above the tree line and soaring off towards the peaks of the Highlands.