Page 60 of Taste of Thorns
Three girls pass us on the path in the opposite direction, eyes wide as they take us in. I try my best to take Beaufort’s words on board and smile at them.
One girl looks so shocked she almost stumbles and I wonder if my smile came out more of a grimace than something friendly. The second girl flicks her gaze away, but the third smiles back at me. I almost stumble myself.
Beaufort could actually be right about this.
Chapter Nineteen
Dray
After our little chat with the Hardies, we agree that it’s far too fucking dangerous to have our little mate giving us the cold shoulder, so with his tail tucked between his legs, my bond brother sets off to make things right with her.
Now, several hours later, he’s back and, judging by the rosiness of her cheeks, I’d say his apology was most definitely accepted.
“Has he made things up to you, Kitten?” I ask, bounding towards her as she shakes off Beau’s coat. “Does that mean you’ll come sit on my face now?”
I recollect a pinkie promise that she would.
“Not yet. I want to show her something first,” Beau says.
“If it’s that fucking ugly rash on your–”
“Shut up, dickhead,” he snaps, then to the kitten he adds, “I don’t have a rash.”
“Then what is it?” I ask. “All the kinky toys you keep locked away under your bed?”
Our thrall peeks at Beaufort again, this time with an arched eyebrow.
“Another time.”
“Wait …” I say, confused, because that is news to me, “what?”
Beaufort winks at me and takes the kitten’s hand, pulling her up the stairs. I bounce along behind them, wanting to know more about Beau’s kink collection.
“Are you saying you do have a suitcase full of that kind of shit, man?”
“I suspect he does,” little Kitten whispers to me.
“It’s not a suitcase, it’s a trunk.”
Briony and me look at each other. “Can we see?” I ask.
What the fuck is in his trunk? Cuffs, whips, chains? I’m hard just thinking about it and all the damn possibilities.
“Not now, I’m taking Briony up to the fifth floor.”
My entire face must light up like it’s my birthday. “You’re moving in, Kitten?”
“I haven’t agreed to that.”
“You will when you see the fifth floor,” I promise. “But we got to go get Thorne.”
I snatch her hand in mine and then I’m skidding off to find our reclusive bond brother. He’s been in a mood so black if he were coffee none of us would be sleeping for at least the next year. However, this news should cheer the grouch up.
“Guess what?” I say, bouncing into his room without knocking, pulling Briony along behind me.
Thorne’s lying out on his bed, staring up at the blank ceiling.
“Whatever it is,” he murmurs, “I don’t care.”
