Page 8 of Taste of Thorns (The Firestone Academy #3)

Chapter Six

B riony

“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. I need to 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.

“You are, Kitten. And I fucking love it.” He chuckles some more. “Plus you’re both fucking hot for each other and, you know, there are feelings involved.”

“I don’t want to argue all the time.”

Dray shrugs. “I can’t see either of you changing. You’re just gonna have to live with it.”

“Or you could try listening to me for once,” Beaufort says.

“ You could try listening to me .” I shake my head. “Look, we’re not going to solve this now. I think it’s a good idea if we both take a moment,” I say, trying not to be hot-headed for once. “I’m going to see my friends.”

I jump up on my feet and push my chair aside.

“And Tudor?” Beaufort growls.

“Probably,” I concede, meeting his displeased expression, determined not to flinch away.

I thought we’d got past this bullshit. I thought Beaufort was trying to be less of a mega jerk these days.

“I’ll see you later, okay?”

I walk right out of the kitchen and Dray trots along behind me.

“Kitten, where are you going?”

“I told you, to see my friends. I need to check they’re all right. I need to talk to them about everything that’s happened.”

I open the door, meeting a wall of frigid air swirling with snow.

“It’s fucking brutal out there,” Dray says.

He’s right, I’m already shivering. But I want to find my friends.

Sure, I’m keen to check they’re okay after yesterday; mostly I want to vent about the men in my life.

I want their views and opinions. Heck, I might even want Fox’s.

He may be a shadow weaver, a vampire, and Madame’s Bardin’s ex, but he’s not lying when he says he cares about me.

He can’t be. There is no way he could fake that, could he? Beaufort is wrong about this.

Then there is Blaze. I haven’t seen him since the morning of the trial. While I suspect the little pest has been having a merry old time harassing squirrels without me, I don’t like the idea that he might think I’ve deserted him altogether.

“I’m going back to my room. I need some space.”

“I’ll come with you,” he says.

“No,” I say firmly, taking a deep inhale and stepping out into the cold.

“For fuck’s sake, Kitten. It might not be safe.”

“The only danger is me remaining here and inadvertently stabbing Beaufort Lincoln with a fork because I just can’t help myself.”

Dray chuckles. “Then at least take my coat.” He thrusts something towards me and reluctantly I thread my arms through it and pull up the hood.

He hesitates and before he can change his mind and refuses to let me leave, I trudge off into the snow.

The academy is covered in a thick layer of it and it seeps right through my boots almost immediately. The sky is an oppressive dank gray and the temperature so cold my nose stings.

I tug the coat around my body, plunge my hands deep inside the pockets and with my head down make my way across campus.

There is not a single person out today. I’m guessing they are all huddled around fireplaces back in their rooms, trying their best not to relive yesterday’s trial.

I consider how warm and toasty the Princes’ tower is and how frigging freezing mine will be.

Was I better off making it up with Beaufort and visiting my friends later?

I’m almost tempted to turn around, but I’m halfway there now so I persevere.

The dense snow muffles all sound and it’s eerily silent. I’m assuming that’s the reason I don’t notice the person on the path right in front of me until I’m almost face to face with them.

“Briony Storm, I have been looking for you.”

I peer up into the hardened face of Madame Bardin.

For the briefest of moments I think I’m imagining things. We were talking about her less than five minutes ago. Then here she is.

But the snow swirls around her cold form and her magic prickles against my skin.

“Students are instructed to sleep in their designated rooms while here at the academy, Miss Storm.” Her smile, as always, is calculated and self-satisfied.

“You were not in your own room last night.” She’s dressed in a thick woolen cloak, the hood pulled up over her head, her hands hidden in a black fur muff, and her feet encased in boots that appear to be lined with the same animal fur.

I bet she killed and skinned the animal herself. The way she’s looking at me, makes me think she’d do the same to me if she could.

“I spent the night at the Princes’ tower,” I say plainly without apology.

I am not frightened of her, despite what she did to me and despite everyone’s suspicions that she's trying to harm me. I know the promise Thorne conjured with his magic will keep me safe – for now at least. And apparently I have magic of my own – if only I could work out how to use it.

She lifts a carefully manicured brow.

“I am their thrall,” I remind her.

“Yes, I am aware. That doesn’t give you carte blanche to disregard this academy’s rules.” I wait for her to tell me I’ll be spending my day off scrubbing floors. Instead, she lifts her chin. “Please come with me to my office.”

I peer behind me. There’s no one out here.

The new sensation in my veins tingles with awareness.

I may not be afraid but I’m not stupid either.

I don’t like the idea of accompanying Madame to her office.

This is the woman who tortured me with lightning.

Thorne’s magic might stop her from doing that again, but I’m sure she’ll find other ways to hurt me if I let her.

Plus, Beaufort seemed to suggest that promise would end eventually.

“Erm,” I say, hesitating.

“Miss Storm, I think it’s about time you and I had another little chat.”

“Seeing as the last time we had a little chat, you tried to kill me, I’d rather talk with witnesses around,” I say.

“Kill you? You really do have a ridiculously perverse imagination.” She sighs. “I suppose it can’t be helped given where you’re from.”

“We both know I didn’t imagine you torturing me with lightning.”

“Miss Storm,” she says with annoyance. “I’m sorry if I gave you the impression this was a request because it wasn’t.” She looks me dead in the eyes. “Come with me.”

“No,” I say, lifting my chin, realizing how similar she is to Muriel.

Both bitter, lonely women who get a kick out of hurting others.

“Ahhh,” she says. “You think because you’re the Princes’ whore, you’re somehow special.

You poor na?ve little thing.” She laughs, the sound brittle in the cold air.

“I’ve seen so many of you thralls come and go.

Cherished one moment, discarded the next.

Do you know how they treat thrall whores back in Slate Quarter, Miss Storm? ”

“I’m not going back to Slate,” I say, defiantly.

I don’t know why I say it. I’m not deluded.

Haven’t I known right from the start that Slate is where they are going to send me?

Yet, as soon as the words leave my mouth, I determine I’m going to make them the truth.

I’m not going back there. No matter what happens, I won’t be going back.

“Oh you poor deluded soul. Is that what they’ve promised you? Men will say anything to get inside your panties. They’ll make all sorts of ludicrous promises.”

“I’m not reliant on the Princes. I’ll be going to one of the other Quarters based on my own merits.” I lift my chin. The snow is seeping through my coat, chilling my bones, although somehow the Madame’s appears completely dry. “I aced that last trial and you know it.”

“Yes,” she says, “I do. It’s what I wanted to talk to you about, Miss Storm. You secured maximum points.”

“What? I … I haven’t seen the points board yet. I had no idea.”

“In fact, you placed above all the shadow weavers. A feat that has never before been achieved by a commoner.”

“What?” I repeat, just as eloquently as before.

Me? I placed top of the year. Above Beaufort with his snakes and Dray with his ghosts. That doesn’t sound right. It doesn’t sound right at all. And once against my blood tingles with awareness.

“Tell me, Miss Storm, how the hell is that possible?” She narrows her eyes. “Unless you were helped again.”

I jolt, something I’m sure she spots. “I received no help.”

She steps closer, her boots sinking into the snow. “Was it Fox? I don’t know what that man has told you, but none of it is true.”

“If you don’t know what he’s told me, then how do you know if it is true or not?”

“Don’t get smart with me, Miss Storm. It doesn’t suit you. Fox Tudor may be infatuated with you – for some reason known only to the damn stars – but it is temporary. It will pass. What he and I share is eternal.” Her eyes glow in the murky light. And am I mistaken or are they a little mad?

I shiver.

Beaufort was wrong. Fox was right. She hates me and she hates me because of him.

“Then you should be having this conversation with the professor and not with me.” I’ve had enough, I’m so cold my fingers and toes are screaming with pain, and if I stay out here any longer, I’m going to catch a chill. I make to move around her, but she darts to the side blocking my path.

“I’m not done talking with you, Miss Storm. Receiving help in a trial is a grave offense. One that would see you not only expelled from this academy, but banished from the realm.” Her eyes shine with obvious delight and this time her smile is real.

“I wasn’t helped,” I say, “and if you really thought I was, you’d already have taken the opportunity to have me carted away.”

Her smile falls away. “Then how did you do it, Miss Storm?” she hisses.

The Princes think I should reveal my magic to the teachers. They think the teachers will help me develop and hone my skills. They believe that is the purpose of this academy.

My sister believed exactly the same thing and look where that got her.

So I don’t tell the Madame about the light wielding, instead I look her in the eyes and tell her,

“I’m not afraid anymore. Of you or of anyone.”