Page 2 of Curse of Thorns
ICLENCH MY HANDS INTOhard fists as I tiptoe down the quiet halls. It’s near midnight by now, which means all the students are in their dorms pretending to sleep. Classes don’t start for another three days. Behind a few doors, whispers and laughter can be heard. Quick breathing behind another—a couple going at it.
My feet make no sound as I cross over the porcelain tiles, dull florescent lights buzz overhead. I feel for magic. I listen for the thud of an eager heart.
Thump-thump. I pause.
Raven’s door is around the next bend. The feeling and basic bodily sounds are definitely coming from that direction. Is it the spy?
A dark chuckle greets me before I even make the final turn. “I’ve been watching you.” His low voice rumbles through the air.
I stifle a gasp. Well, that answers that question. I pull in a long breath, hold my head high, and turn the corner. Arms crossed, I lean casually against the wall a dozen or so feet from my adversary. “Have you? I hadn’t noticed.”
Mr. Shiny Head grips a sword in one hand and a dagger in the other. He approaches slowly, eyes pinned to me. His lips curl into a smile, but everything else tells me he’s tense. He planned for this confrontation, but he’s still anxious.
“You were planning to leave, were you?” he asks. “Abandoning your little friend to fend for herself?”
I narrow my eyes. “I’m the problem. Not her.” One part an answer to his question, and one part a threat—leave her the hell out of it.
“That you are. Don’t worry, you won’t be for much longer.” His knees bend ever so slightly, his muscles tense, but before either of us can react, a blade presses against my jugular.
Dammit.How had I not noticed the second spy?
For one moment, I’m shocked; the next—I act.
Rev
The door to the banquethall swings open and slams against the back wall. The monotone voices of the Luminescent Court royals are hushed in an instant.
Some stop mid-bite to watch the intruder, wide-eyed. The whole court is frozen, even myself, as a blond fae in skinny jeans and thick black boots—our sworn enemy— stomps down the aisle toward the ruling family. Toward me.
Admittedly, the Rev of six months ago would have stood, sword in hand, eager for the chance to remove her beautiful head from her beautiful body. Today... I still don’t know what to feel. A desire to kill her is the only thing Idon’tfeel.
Excitement. Intrigue. Amusement. Fear. Pride. Concern.
I can’t help but glance at my father’s expression—it’s a moment I suspect I’ll cherish the rest of my life. His face is red, eyes dark but wide. He’s shocked—and pissed—to see her here. I hold the image in my mind for just long enough to memorize it, then I turn back.
As she marches forward, past fae shrinking back in fear, murmuring begins, and I’m reminded of her homeland. Whispers that bounce through the dark leaves of the shade maples. Of the expression on Caelynn’s face as she stood in the Whisperwood for the first time in a decade. For the first time since killing my brother.
