Page 43 of Spark of Sorcery
It’s probably my imagination but I swear, as I step into the common room with the three Princes by my side, the party music cuts off and every single person in that room turns to stare at us.
Chapter Fifteen
Dray
I love making a fucking entrance and tonight we are making a hell of a one.
Our thrall looks stunning – like whip your breath right away and leave you with a hard-on so stiff it’s painful to walk stunning. I can’t stop looking at her, can’t stop touching her. And I really, really want to fucking lick her because as always her scent is like wolf-fucking-nip!
As the elevator doors draw back, everyone in that Onyx common room spins our way and I just grin.
Yeah, eat shit, dickwads. You think we picked the wrong thrall? You have no fucking idea. Because our thrall is the most beautiful woman in this room. In the entire academy. Probably in the realm.
“Hey shitheads,” I call out. “I thought there was meantto be a party happening here tonight. But I guess you were waiting for me, were you?”
I pull the little kitten right into the center of the room, the crowd parting to let us through, their mouths hanging so far open, they’re practically hitting the floor. I twirl her under my arm and drag her close. Then I lift my right arm above my head and click my fingers. The music starts. I twirl her around again.
“Stop fucking drooling over our thrall, you perverts,” I yell my eyes not leaving hers, “unless you want the three of us to rearrange your faces. And let’s face it, you’re all ugly enough as it is.”
Slowly, continuing to steal glances our way, the other shadow weavers, a few thralls among them, start dancing, drinking and talking again. I can see the Smyte sisters in the corner with their thrall. If looks could kill, I’d be bleeding from every orifice.
“Hold on tight, little Kitten,” I whisper into her ear. “We’re going for a little journey.”
“What–” she starts, her brow crinkling, but then I’m twirling her around and around again, leading her right across the floor towards the place where the Smyte sisters are hovering like a pair of hags.
Seriously, what the hell did Beaufort ever see in Henrietta? Okay, she’s hot and unhinged, which can be fun, but the girl is way too high maintenance – and not in the good way. Besides, I’ve heard them fucking. The girl is a bad lay.
“Hey ladies,” I say, as they scowl at me. “I believe you’ve met Briony before.”
“Yeah,” Briony says coolly in a way that has my wolf sitting up and taking notice. “We’ve met.”
“How lovely you look, Briony,” Henrietta says,smacking a brittle smile across her lips. “What a pretty little dress. Where on earth did you find it?”
I’m guessing this is some girly shit, a disguised insult – although fuck me if I understand how that works.
“It looks good enough to rip off,” I growl, “and that is all that matters.” I lean down and nibble my kitten’s throat, the little thing wilting against me despite the audience. I can literally feel the sisters seething at us. I have a feeling Henrietta saw herself with more than just Beaufort. I think she hoped she’d be all of ours. I peer up at them. “Enjoy your evening, ladies,” I say with a wink, and then I spin our girl away, back towards the other side of the room where Thorne’s lurking.
“I think we made our point,” I say, “wanna go to this ball?”
“Go?” Beaufort says, appearing from behind us. He’s carrying four glasses of champagne in his hands. “I just got us drinks.”
I take one from him and knock it straight back.
Thorne shakes his head so I take his too and finish it off.
I tilt my head towards the remaining two.
“You having one, Kitten?”
“What is it?” she says, peering at it with suspicion.
“Champagne.” I take the glass from Beaufort and offer it up to her. “You ever had champagne before?”
She cocks an eyebrow at me. “What do you think?”
“It’s meant to taste like the wolf’s bollocks. Personally I think it tastes like sweet grape juice.”
“The wolf’s bollocks?”
