Page 30 of Spark of Sorcery
“Okay,” I say, lifting him up from the ground and leaving him to hang, thrashing about in the air. The others look up at him and laugh, which makes him all the madder.
But he’s running out of oxygen now and in another few seconds, he’s gurgling, “Okay, okay, Dray, I fucking submit.”
I drop him and he falls to the earth, landing with a grunt.
I jump up to my feet and walk over to where he’s groaning on the floor.
I lean over him, cup his jaw in my hand and then smack a fat kiss on his cheek, ruffling his hair.
“Nice try, Bro. Nice try.”
The parents are waiting for me out on the veranda when I return an hour later – Dad in his chair, blanket wrapped over his legs, mama leaning against the railing.
“You couldn’t come and pay your respects to your father when you arrived?” she hisses into my ear as I bend down to kiss her cheek.
“I’m paying my respects now,” I say, bending down to kiss his face too. He pats my cheek.
“You’ve been missed,” he says.
“They’ve been running around like a pack of wild animals,” my mama says, peering out to the land where my brothers are still chasing one another across the grass. “You know they caught a pale stag last week. I had the Empress’s guard here asking questions.”
“They’re just kids,” I say, collapsing down into one of the chairs and letting her pour me a glass of home-made lemonade. It could do with something more potent, something with a kick. But alcohol’s been banned in our household since the accident – as far as she’s concerned anyway.
“They need to grow up,” she says with a tut.
“How was the first trial?” my dad asks, cutting straight to the chase as always.
“Piece of piss,” I say, knocking back the drink.
“Language.” My mama tuts. She’s seen me rip out the throats of our enemies and yet she still takes offense at a few curse words. No wonder I’m so fucked up in the head.
“It was easy?” my dad asks.
I shrug. “Easy for me. For others … I don’t know.”
“How did you fare in comparison to Cadieux? To Lincoln?”
I lean down and place my glass on the floor. “We haven’t been given the points yet,” I say. It’s only half a lie. They posted them this morning, but I never bothered to go and check. What’s the point? I know I aced it. “But if you’re asking if they–”
My dad’s eyes flare. “Not good enough.”
I lift my gaze and smile at him. It’s not like he was top of the academy in his day. From what I’ve heard, his wolf was weedy and pathetic. Yet, somehow he expects more from me.
“Noted, Sir,” I say.
He leans away from me. Despite the tough guy act, I scare him. I think I scare them all.
“What’s this about some girl?” my mama asks, wheeling my dad’s chair around a little so he’s not staring into the setting sun.
“What girl?” I ask, my spine stiffening and my hackles rising. It would be dangerous if they knew about the girl. Fuck knows what they’d do with that information. I don’t trust them. It was probably the two of them who put the idea in Damson’s head to challenge me in the first place.
Then again, I don’t trust anyone in this pack. It’s just what packs are like. Backstabbing, conniving, treacherous. How’d you think my father ended up in the chair and I took his place as head of the family?
“You found yourself a cute little thrall to keep you happy?”
I lean back in my chair, rubbing my fingers against my chin. “Yeah, yeah we did. Cute enough, nothing special.”
“Something you can chew up and spit out,” my mama says, eyes twinkling just like mine.
