Page 38 of Storm of Shadows
Because there is no way, no way in hell, I am going to belong to anyone – let alone a shadow weaver – let alone three of them.
Chapter Eighteen
Beaufort
I storm along the pathway, my magic sparking in my fingertips, crashing through my veins, my blood red hot.
How long has it been since someone defied me? Since they refused me? Since they looked me in the eye and told me, no?
I don’t remember. I wonder if anyone ever has.
And fuck, it makes me hot, makes me hard. Makes me want that little scrap of a girl – with her fierce eyes, spitting at me like a wild cat who might lash out and bite.
I may not admit it to anyone – maybe I’ve hardly admitted it to myself – but I’ve harbored the same doubts Dray has. I know what I saw in that flash of a vision – streaking past my eyes the moment our gazes connected – but nonetheless, I’ve wondered, why her?
Why some pathetic nobody from the furthest, most rotten, hopeless shithole in the realm.
It makes no sense.
Now, I’m beginning to see the appeal. To understand it.
My lips curl up into a smile and I run my tongue against them.
Her lips are soft and plump. Okay, they were pursed together, set into a downward frown. It makes them all the more tempting. I’d like to taste them. I’d like to drag them through my teeth. I’d like them wrapped around my cock.
I could have a lot of fun with her.Wecould have a lot of fun with her.
I forget the bad mood I’ve been brewing all last night and all this morning and stride towards my next lesson with a bounce in my step – some history class, apparently we need to know about the history of our realm, as if it hasn’t been drilled into us all since the moment we took our first breath.
I sit beside Dray, hardly aware of what the old dude with his scruffy beard and tweed suit is droning on about, focused on the visions I’m creating in my head – visions of exactly how I’m going to play with our little thrall tonight.
Because for all that defiance and spiteful attitude, I have no doubt, no doubt at all that she will come tonight.
Yeah, she’s had her little fun – played at being the brat. But she knows who we are. She knows how powerful we are. She knows what a fucking honor it is to be chosen by us.
She will be there.
“Why are you in such a good mood?” Dray says, leaning closer towards me, his nose suddenly twitching. “And what the hell is that smell?” He takes a deeper inhale, his eyes spinning in their sockets and his eyelids drifting shut. “Fuck, that shiiit smells goooood.”
“The girl,” I tell him, probably wearing a smug grin on my face.
Dray’s eyes flick open and he stares right at me. “The girl?” He studies me. “You’re serious?”
I nod. “We had a little chat about her disobedience.”
“That sounds fun,” Dray says, left leg bouncing with excitement.
“Yeah,” I say, rubbing at my chin. “It was.”
Dray leans towards me and sniffs again. “Her scent …” he says, as I push him away from me, “it’s fucking amazing. Smells just like …” He groans.
“I told you,” I say. “She’s the one.”
“With a scent like that,” he says, rolling his shoulders and fidgeting on his chair. “She’s coming tonight?”
“Yeah,” I say. “She’ll be there.”
Except eight comes and goes.
