Page 118 of Storm of Shadows
The light kicks on, dazzling me back to the present. I groan as the pain batters my body once again and the light assaults my eyes.
“Where the hell have you been? You were due at our place twenty minutes ago!” Beaufort’s loud angry voice yells at me.
I wrap my arms over my head. “Leave me alone,” I mutter.
Boots march across the floor and then a hand lands on my shoulder.
“What’s wrong? What’s wrong, little thrall?” That same hand comes to cup my face and turn it towards his. He’s not alone. Dray hangs right by his shoulder. I blink up at them, tears I didn’t even know I was crying blurring their features.
“Go away,” I mumble.
“Did someone hurt you?” Dray growls, sounding remarkably like his wolf.
“No!”
“Are you sick?” Beaufort lays the back of his hand against my damp forehead.
“No, it’s just my period. I got my period, that’s all.”
I hear Dray sniff. “Fuck, yeah. I can smell it – that’s gross.”
“Thanks a lot,” I hiss. “Now please leave me alone. I’m not coming tonight. I don’t care if you think you’re going to drag me or whatever. It hurts too much.” I clutch my stomach and moan.
Dray and Beaufort conspire in hushed tones, but I’m too out of it to work out the words. Then, in the next moment, I feel a pair of strong arms slide underneath me and scoop me up. Beaufort’s arms. He holds me against his chest and marches me out of the room.
“I may be wrong, but I don’t think there is any conceivable way that you could describe this as dragging, Beaufort Lincoln,” I point out.
“I’m making an exception,” he says with an expression that looks a lot more like a real smile than his usual smirk.
Dray trots along after us, bouncing up and down on his toes.
“I wanted to carry her,” he whines.
“Tough shit,” Beaufort says, taking the steps two at a time.
“But you get to have all the fun.”
“She’s sick,” Beaufort says.
“And I smell bad, remember?”
“You still smell fucking amazing,” he says grinning, “just not as a good as usual.”
Beaufort’s arms are strong and his embrace warm, and maybe I’m imagining it but I swear I feel his magic against my skin, soothing away the pain. I sink into his arms, resting my head against his chest and close my eyes.
I guess the pain and that exercise session plus all the tension with Professor Tudor has worn me out, because I jerk awake again a few minutes later as Beaufort carries me up the stairs in his own tower, Dray still behind us.
“Where are we going?” I murmur, sleepily. If he thinks he’s going to get a repeat of last weekend’s activities, he’s going to be sorely disappointed. Even if I wanted to, which I don’t – that was a one off, a stupid mistake – I don’t think I could physically lower myself onto my knees tonight. My thighs will not do it.
“I’ve run you a hot bath.”
“Are we joining her in it?” Dray says, eyes lighting up.
“No,” Beaufort says firmly. “It’s to make her feel better.” He glances down at me. “That’s correct, right?”
I nod my head, not that I was treated to many hot baths back home.
“We’ll add some soothing salts in too,” Dray pipes up.
