Chapter 39
Chapter Thirty-Nine
T horne
I’m nearly at the door, when Beaufort steps out in front of me and blocks my path.
“Where are you going in such a hurry?” he says, examining my face.
“Out,” I tell him.
“Our thrall is coming tonight. She’ll be here in fifteen minutes – if she turns up on time,” he mumbles.
“Right,” I say.
“You should be the one to greet her tonight.”
I stretch and ball my fingers, the leather of my gloves creaking. Beaufort doesn’t like to share and yet here he is offering me up his toy. What is his motive?
“Why?”
“The girl is being difficult and Dray’s antics aren’t helping. You heard about the history class?”
I stare at him. Is he serious?
“Spending time with me will do nothing to persuade her.”
My bond brother rubs his fingers through the stubble on his chin. “You don’t like her?” He scowls at me. “Is it because she’s from the Slate Quarter?”
I scowl right back at him.
“Not pretty enough?” he asks. “Too pretty? Is she not your type?”
“I don’t have a type.”
“You do,” he says, staring into my eyes. “And she is it.”
If only he knew how true that was.
It doesn’t change anything. Maybe she’ll come around eventually. Maybe the others will have her. But I never can.
No matter how much I may want her.
“Thorne,” he says, any traces of humor gone from his voice, “I’m asking you to be here when she arrives tonight.”
I hold his gaze and nod.
I wait in the lounge, seated on one of the straight-backed chairs, staring into the flickering flames of the fire, watching the smoke twist up into the chimney. My heart pounds in my chest and, despite the heat from the fire, cold sweat trickles down my spine.
The minutes tick by, drumming in my ears.
Just after eight, there’s a rap at the door.
I peer over my shoulder, through the hallway, towards the door.
I wait. Maybe Dray will come bounding through and beat me to it. Maybe Beaufort will have a change of heart.
Neither of them appear and reluctantly, I drag myself up onto my feet.
My mouth is dry and I walk the few feet to the door and pause.
I don’t have to open it. If I don’t, she’ll probably turn around and walk away, relieved she isn’t required to spend another moment in our company.
But I know what Beaufort’s seen. This is our destiny. And I, more than anyone, should know, you can’t argue with fate. No matter how strong your powers are. No matter how hard your heart is.
I open the door.
Her pretty green eyes land on me and she jolts.
All my worst fears are confirmed. She’s repelled by me.
I flex my hands involuntarily and my magic pulses in the air. She takes a step backwards.
“I … I came as instructed,” she says, trying to sound tough, but I hear the tremble in her throat. I don’t just disgust her. She’s afraid of me too.
I nod. Then I turn and walk back down the hallway. Behind me, I hear her hesitate, then follow me inside, the door clicking shut.
I don’t know what I’m meant to do with her. I peer across at the lounge and then at the kitchen.
The thing doesn’t have a lot of meat on her. They say the food in Slate Quarter is worse than pig feed.
I swerve into the kitchen and wait against the wall.
She follows me inside.
“Are you locking me in the kitchen again tonight?” she says, tossing her head in annoyance.
I have no self control. I let my gaze roam down her body, down her fragile neck, to the baggy gray uniform that swamps her frame. I can’t help but imagine what she looks like under those layers. The only hint of it is the flash of bare thigh, her skin there smooth and soft looking.
I press my body into the wall as I ball my hands into tight fists.
She harrumphs to herself and drops down into one of the kitchen chairs.
“I can see this is going to be another entertaining evening.” She rests her elbows down on the table and leans forward, taking me in. “I don’t understand why the hell you keep dragging me here. Especially seeing as you so clearly don’t want me here.”
I stare back at her, not saying a word.
A crease forms between her brows. “I also don’t get why you pulled that little stunt in front of everyone out on the field. Why you said the stuff you did.” She tucks her legs under the table, crossing them over at the ankles. She’s so small, so tiny. I could crush her in my fist. “Was it a power thing?”
I slip my hands behind my back and force my palms against the cold wall.
She sighs. “If you hate me so much, can’t you talk the other two out of this stupid situation? You don’t want it,” my magic bores into the wall, the plaster cracking behind me, “and neither do I. We could work together. Help each other out.”
She examines my face and waits for an answer. My magic crackles and pulsates. Her eyes on my face is the closest thing I’ll ever get to her touch.
She sighs again and flops back into her chair.
“Can I just go, please? There is no point in me staying.”
When I don’t tell her no, she stands slowly to her feet as if any second she expects me to slam her down in her chair. Then with caution, watching me with a puzzled expression, she ventures towards the door.
She’s a foot away from me when she passes, close enough for me to reach out and touch her, to hold her. I tense every part of my body. The shadows crash with rage around my veins, my magic hisses angrily and she must feel it in the air, must hear it, because she frowns in displeasure.
“Be back here again on Saturday,” I tell her.
She stops. “Seriously?”
My face shows how serious I am.
“Whatever,” she murmurs and then she’s gone.
I close my eyes. I count to ten and then I follow her outside, trailing her all the way back to her room, ensuring she’s safe.