Page 47 of Storm of Shadows
“Ahhh Kratos,” I say, “haven’t you figured out by now that it’s no fun if they hand it to you on a plate, if they drop to their fucking knees before you’ve even asked? Where’s the fucking fun in that?”
“Really?” Kratos says smirking at his brothers. “I’ve been very happy with how willing our little thrall has been to drop to her knees. We all have.”
“The mouth on that girl,” Prentice mutters, biting his goddamn fist.
“Yeah,” Beaufort says, yanking off his shower and walking over to join me in the hot tub. “I hear that mouth’s been busy all around the Iron Quarter.”
“Fuck you,” Kratos says, striding out of the shower towards us.
“With that cock? No thanks.” I laugh.
He raises his hand but his brother, Nathan, catches ahold of him and pulls him backwards.
Beaufort stands, his body tense and his magic loud and dominant in the bathroom.
“Get the fuck out of here, Kratos,” he orders.
Kratos glares at him but doesn’t resist as his brothers haul him away.
Beaufort waits until he’s gone, swings his gaze around the remaining men, all barely daring to breathe, and then sinks down into the water.
“He’s getting too fucking big for his boots,” I mutter.
“His mouth has always been bigger than his mettle,” Beaufort says. “He’s no threat.”
A year ago the Hardy brothers challenged us and we wiped the floor with them.
“Yeah,” I say. “But it’s not going to stop him from being a fucking nuisance.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Briony
I’ve lived all my life in Slate Quarter where there’s snow on the ground for six months of the year and yet the academy changing rooms where we’re sent after our cross-country run, must be the coldest place I’ve ever encountered. I shiver, my knees actually knocking together and my teeth chattering and I haven’t even stripped out of my gray tracksuit. At least it means no one is hogging space under the showers. Everyone is determined to wash as quickly as they can, squeaking and squealing in pain as they do.
I’ve no intention of joining them. Not because I’m scared of a bit of cold water – the water in our bathroom back in the tower is just as cold – but I refuse to strip down and walk around naked like all the other girls.
Instead, I hover in the corner, carefully removing one garment as I whip on another.
The girls I encountered on the run are already dressing too. I see them glancing my way and whispering, but they make no move to bother me again. For some reason, that encounter withthe wolf appears to have spooked them. If they’d actually seen what a softie he was – if not a bit of a perverted softie – I doubt they’d be leaving me alone.
Unfortunately, there are plenty of other girls in this changing room and some are more than happy to torment me.
The brunette – Odessa – being one of them.
“Oh my god,” she says from the showers as she scrubs scented shampoo into her long, thick hair. Her golden collar glistens under the water. She hasn’t removed it to shower – I assume so everyone can admire it. “Do you see that? The piece of scum from the Slate shithole isn’t showering!” She glances my way and adopts a patronizing tone. “I know you come from a pig sty where people are happy to stink of shit and washing and cleaning doesn’t exist, but here at the academy we don’t want to smell your stench.”
Usually, I’d ignore bullshit like this but the other girls are all looking at me with disgust and I do have some pride.
“I’m going back to my room to get washed up,” I say, buttoning up my shirt as quickly as I can. I don’t want to get in a fight with Little Miss Murderous Intentions. But obviously, I don’t have a say in the matter.
“Why? Are these changing rooms not good enough for you?” Odessa says, washing the soap from her hair, a train of bubbles sliding down her shoulders and between her breasts. Breasts that, I hate to admit, are pretty damn perfect – no wondershehas been claimed as a thrall. “Or maybe she’s got something to hide.” She snaps her head down and glares at me. “Maybe under all those layers of baggy clothes, she’s hiding something.” Inadvertently I jerk, my heart beginning to hammer in my chest. How does she know? “Maybe she’s a freak.” Her lips curl into an evil smile and I know this is not going to end well. “I say we find out.” She glares at her new band of admirers, who all look backat her with incomprehension. “Well, go on,” she says, “what are you waiting for? Let’s strip her down.”
I glance towards the group of girls from the woods. They whisper to each other and then dart out of the changing rooms. I guess they’ve had their fun tormenting me and are happy to leave me in Odessa’s hands now.
I swing my gaze back towards the showers. The girl joined to Odessa’s hip comes striding my way. She is huge – at least six feet tall and muscular to boot. I consider bolting the way those other girls did, but stupidly I picked the corner furthest away from the doorway to cower in. I’m trapped. I blame the tiredness and all the distracting thoughts in my head. I’m not usually so careless.
“You heard Odessa,” the tall girl says. “Strip! Unless you wantmeto strip you.” She grins menacingly. One of her front teeth is missing and she has tattoos printed over her knuckles.
