Chapter 59
Chapter Fifty-Nine
D ray
I wake up to the sound of angry footsteps on the stairway and the front door slamming shut.
I roll to the edge of the bed, stumble to my feet and, rubbing sleepy crust from my eyes, stagger to the window. I am not a fucking morning person and whoever the hell has woken me at this freaking early hour is going to pay for it.
Only it turns out the person responsible is our little thrall.
I lean against the frame and watch her scuttle away, thunder all over her face.
Now ain’t that curious. I didn’t even know our little thrall was visiting. That certainly wasn’t planned.
I’m suddenly more awake than if I’d downed ten straight shots of coffee.
I gaze up towards the ceiling. I bet Beaufort is responsible.
I find him pacing in his study wearing nothing but a pair of boxers. To be fair, I’m wearing even less.
I lean against the doorway, spinning a toothpick between my lips and consider him. As I do, my nose twitches. It smells strongly of our little thrall in this room. Fucking strongly of her. My intuition was correct.
“You want to tell me what happened with our little brat of a thrall?” I ask, crossing my right foot over my left and chewing on the toothpick.
“Nothing happened,” he says, halting at his desk, picking up a note that lies on its surface and turning it over in his hands, refusing to look my way.
“Do you know how many more olfactory receptor neurons a wolf has compared to a human?” I say.
Beaufort sighs, lowers the note, and, collapsing into the chair, looks up at me. “No,” he says with irritation. “I don’t.”
“Fifty-six times. Which means,” I say, pushing off the doorframe and striding into the room, “I can smell a hell of a lot better than you can, my friend. I know you fucked her in here.” I sniff at the air and a grin stretches across my face. “Fuck, was it on your desk?”
He frowns at me and I take that for all the confirmation I need.
“So you fucked her.” I nod to myself, twisting the toothpick in my fingers. “Why does that mean she is now storming away looking like she might kill someone?”
“She’s always angry. She doesn’t want to be our thrall. She’s made that clear. Nothing’s changed.”
“Dude,” I snort, “are you really that bad a fuck?”
He pushes back his chair, hands tight on the armrests and glowers at me. “Trust me, she had a good time.”
“So why isn’t she wearing our collar and perched on your lap, purring like a good little kitten?”
“If you’d ever met a fucking kitten, you’d know the last thing they do is sit nicely in your lap. They’re more likely to scratch at your face and claw your eyes out.”
Yeah, that does sound more like our little thrall. Kitten – seems the perfect way to describe her.
“And yet they’d still be back for more of that affection.” I chuckle. “So tell me, Beaufort, what the fuck happened?”
He sighs again, and leans back in his chair, resigned to tell me the truth.
“We argued.”
“So what. You argue. She argues. It’s what you both love to do.”
“It was more than that this time.” He scrubs his hand over his face. “The girl hates us, Dray,” he says, with an emotion I haven’t seen since we were kids. Beaufort, unlike Thorne, does have them, he just keeps them very well hidden. “She really fucking hates us.”
“She’s always put on this act–”
“It isn’t an act. She … has her reasons.”
I consider him some more, snapping the toothpick between my fingers. “But you said–”
“I know what I saw,” he snaps.
“Maybe you were wrong. Maybe you misinterpreted–”
“I didn’t,” he says coolly. “There was no mistaking it. I saw it in the vision. She is meant to be ours. Whether she hates us or not.”
Whether she hates us or not.
No one hates me. Not really. And any that have hated me – any enemies, for example – are now dead. I don’t think our little kitten would hate me if she got to know me better. I’m not Beaufort and I sure as hell ain’t Thorne. Look how much she liked me in my wolf-form.
Which gives me an idea.
I wait until just before breakfast time, slip outside and jog out to the trees. Transforming’s easiest out where nature rules, where all my wolfish instincts take over. Sure, if I need to I can transform whenever and wherever I please – it’s what makes me one of the most powerful shifters in the realm. But I’ve always preferred to do it in private, underneath the trees, where the ground is soft and organic beneath my feet.
I shrug off the pants and shirt I’m wearing, tip back my head and let the shadows overtake my body, let them twist bone, shape muscle, stretch skin, until I’m forced down onto four paws and the world has shifted on its axis.
I’m still me, hidden beneath this fleece of fur. Only fucking wilder, fucking stronger, and definitely more fucking impulsive.
I fucking love it.
I lean back on my paws, stretching out my back, swiveling my ears, and then nipping at my tail.
Like this, the world loses its colors; everything is muted, less bright, less vibrant. But the smells. Fuck, the smells! Millions of them all competing for my attention, all screaming out some story, promising some freaking amazing adventure. Sharp, sour, sweet, pungent, putrid.
And the sounds too. I can hear the path of a small rodent as he scurries through the distant undergrowth; can hear the ruffle of an owl’s feathers in the branches high above me, and hear the faintest whisper of voices from the academy far away.
I indulge in my wolfish side for just a moment, following the scent of a squirrel through the trees. I soon catch up with him and then it’s a chase. Me crashing through the undergrowth and leaping over discarded branches and broken brambles, hot on his tail. I nearly catch him, but then he’s scrambling up a tree and out of reach.
I stand panting, the adrenaline soaring through my veins. I let it fade and yank myself back. There was a reason for transforming. Another scent I intend to hunt out. One that stinks of sex – of wet pussy and soft limbs.
I drag my tongue over my snout and then I sprint off in the direction of the academy.
I can smell the humans before they see me, and so I hug the shadows. I don’t want anyone to see me but her. Not in this moment anyway. I track through the campus until I reach the tower that houses her room, then still hidden from view, I drop down onto my stomach, rest my head on my front paws and wait.
Time passes, my perception of it distorted in my wolf form. He’s more patient than me – even if he is wilder. But eventually I catch a hint of her scent. I lift my head and peer through the gloom. My wolf eyes may not be able to detect the colors my human ones can, but my vision in the half-light is far sharper. Soon I see her turn the corner, alone, her coat pulled tightly around her to ward off the cold and her head bowed down. I jump up onto my paws and trot towards her.
I’m guessing the little kitten is lost in her thoughts, because she doesn’t register my presence until I nudge my snout against her side and whine.
She jolts, jumping away, her hands raised like she’s either about to surrender or about to fight.
I sit, dragging my paw through the air and whining a second time.
“Oh, it’s you,” she says flatly, which was not the reception I was hoping for. The last time we met in my wolf form, she was all fucking over me. “Go away. I don’t need this today. The trial starts in less than an hour.”
If I could laugh, I would. Because, yeah, I’m not leaving.
I stare at her with what I’m guessing are a pair of adorable puppy eyes and whine some more.
“Don’t look at me like that. I know who you are under all that fur and you can’t fool me with this cutesy thing.”
Me, cute? I’m not sure it’s how the last person I ripped apart would have described me. But if the little kitten wants to call me cute, then I won’t be complaining.
I stand and pad towards her. She doesn’t try to turn away or run. She’s smart and she knows I’m faster than she is. Does she also know how much I like to fucking chase? In fact, this would be so much more fun if she were to run. Then I could hunt her down and …
“What do you want?” she says, scowling at me.
I nudge my nose against her hand and then lick at her fingers. Her skin tastes divine. But it’s her pussy I really want to eat.
She snatches her hand away from my mouth and crosses her arms over her chest, staring off into space and not at me.
I rub my head and body against her legs hoping she’ll relent and pet me, but she only huffs in annoyance.
I huff myself through my nostrils and sink to the ground, looking up at her again with hurt eyes.
She glances at me but refuses to relent.
This isn’t working.
Time for a new plan.
I close my eyes and the shadows creep from my veins, wrestling the wolf back into submission. My body transforms again. This time skin retracts, bones shorten, muscles turn. It hurts. Of course it fucking does. But it’s a part of who I am.
I roll up to stand on my bare feet, towering above the little kitten.
“Jeez,” she says, jumping away from me and bringing her hand to cover her face. “You’re …”
“Yes sweetheart I am,” I say, letting the pecs on my chest dance for her.
“You need to put some clothes on.”
“Nah,” I say.
“You’ll freeze to frigging death.”
I shrug my shoulders. “I don’t feel the cold. Blood runs hot.” I stare at her with heat in my eyes. The kitten’s green eyes dart down towards my cock and away again. I chuckle. “Like what you see?” I run my fingers through my hair. “I hear you have a thing for riding cock. Wanna go back to my room and ride mine?”
She glowers at me – just like Beaufort did earlier. The two of them are more alike than they realize. I’d say that’s half the reason for whatever the hell argument they had.
“Do you get a kick out of swinging your cock about and flashing girls – who by the way really don’t want to see your cock!”
I ruffle my hair, then hold up my forefinger between us.
“One – I’m not swinging my cock – but if that’s something you want to see …” She shakes her head adamantly and I hold up another finger. “Two, actually, kitten, most girls want to see my cock.” I shrug. “What can I say, most girls want to suck it too.”
“Leave me alone.”
“Just because Beaufort pissed you off in some way–”
“You all piss me off. I already told you multiple times, I don’t want to be your thrall, I want nothing to do with you.”
I take a step towards her. “For someone who wants nothing to do with us, it sounds like you had rather a lot to do with Beaufort.”
My gaze flicks across her face as her cheeks pinken.
“That … that was a mistake.”
“Mistakes can be fun.” I lick my lips. “Wanna make a mistake with me, little kitten? Wanna make one all over my face as I lick out your pussy?”
And to my utter fucking delight, she draws back her hand and slaps me hard across the face. This is starting to become a habit. Our very own brand of foreplay. I love it.
Stars spin across my vision and my senses tingle, my magic electric, all the blood rushing down towards my cock.
I go to grab her, but the little thing is quick, and she’s slipping out of reach and scurrying away, up into her tower – just like that squirrel in the tree.
Fuck, that was fun.
The more I play with the little thing, the more I like her.