Page 57 of Spark of Sorcery
Both Fly and Clare make it to dinner that evening, although Clare is still too queasy to eat and Fly yawns so much I’m surprised his jaw doesn’t dislocate.
“Why do you seem perfectly fine today, Cupcake? Aren’t you suffering at all?”
“Nope,” I say, stuffing a mouthful of creamy pasta into my mouth. Something which makes Clare cringe.
“How can you eat that?” she hisses.
“Because I didn’t drink as much as you,” I tell Clare, “and I didn’t spend my entire night getting down and dirty with some redhead,” I tell Fly.
“No, but you did spend all night getting down and dirty with the Princes.”
“Nope,” I say, chewing my mouthful.
“Nope?” Clare repeats.
“I put you to bed,” I say to her. “Then Beaufort walked me back to my room. We shared a pretty PG-kiss,” (sort of), “and afterwards I went to bed alone.”
“Why?” Fly says. “I spent a lot of time and effort making you look drop dead gorgeous and it worked. They couldn’t keep their eyes off you. You could have been seriously ravished last night, Cupcake.”
“Well,” I say haughtily, “I didn’t want to be.”
Fly mutters some choice words under his breath and yawns some more.
“You put me to bed?” Clare says. “I don't remember that!”
“Do you remember much of last night?” Fly asks.
“Bits and pieces. I remember dancing with Dray Eros,” her cheeks flame, “and then I remember having so many requests to dance I was having to actually turn men down.”
“Shit,” Fly says, “good for you. You did look amazing.”
“Not as amazing as Briony,” she mumbles, adjusting her glasses.
“Bullshit,” Fly and I say together.
She smiles at us shyly. “Well, anyway, obviously I didn’t look good enough to tempt the one person I was hoping to tempt.” She sighs dramatically, pushing her plate away.
Fly and I look at each other, then back at Clare.
“Who?” we say, again in unison.
“Oh, just this boy.” She glances across the canteen but it’s unclear who she’s peering at. “I sit next to him in my history class. He’s really sweet. I thought he’d ask me to dance for sure.”
“He was probably too scared to due to all the demand,” I say.
“And Dray Eros is pretty damn intimidating,” Fly points out.
I shrug. “He’s a puppy dog.”
“He’s a wolf,” Fly clarifies, “and he’s rumored to have killed half a shifter clan.”
I stare at Fly. “Seriously?”
“I mean, it’s a rumor, but that’s what they say.”
I think of the scar on his shoulder. I remember what he said about ending the shifter who had bitten him. I didn’t take him seriously. Maybe I should have.
“Why didn’t you tell me this?”
