Page 7 of Taste of Thorns
Finally, after what feels like a lifetime, Fox releases me, and I sprint out of the room and down the staircase.
Dray and Beaufort are waiting by the doorway, but they don’t try to stop me. They let me pass, and I rush into the room, coming to a hurtling stop by Thorne’s bed.
A lamp is on now, casting a mellow light across the room.
Thorne sits propped up against pillows in the bed, his hair and his chest damp with sweat, his skin a sickly color.
“Thorne?” I say, kneeling down by the bed, so damn desperate to touch him it’s almost painful.
“I’m okay, Briony,” he says. His face is blank as always. “Just a bad dream.”
“Are you hurting anywhere?” I say, as my gaze hurtles over his face and his body.
“No, I’m fine now.” He turns his head. “I understand I have you to thank for that.”
“And your bond brothers,” I say. “And probably Fox too.”
“Thank you,” he says simply.
“Thorne,” I say, my voice suddenly croaky and my eyes threatening to leak more tears. “What happened?”
He turns his head and fixes his gaze straight ahead. “I don’t remember,” he says robotically, and I don’t believe him for one second. I don’t understand why he’s lying. I was there. I saw those monsters. He has nothing to hide from me. Unless he’s ashamed.
“We all get hurt sometimes,” I say quietly, because I don’t know what else to say. Pride is a complicated thing, and I suspect it’s even more so when you’re the most powerful shadow weaver in the academy who aces everything he does.
“I appreciate you being here, Briony. But if you don’t mind, I’d really like to sleep now.”
“Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer some company?” I fidget by the side of the bed. “I can tell you, everything seems much worse if you keep it to yourself.”
“I know,” he says, as quietly. “I’m just tired right now.” As if to make his point, he rests his head back against the pillows and his eyes drift shut.
I linger for a moment. I don’t want to leave him. I want to stay by his side, ensure he and the others are telling me the truth, and that he really is going to be okay. But he asked me to leave, and it feels selfish to go against his wishes just to satisfy mine. Reluctantly, I roll back onto my feet, suddenly aware how much every muscle in my body aches, and tiptoe back to the door. I find Beaufort hovering on the landing, watching us with concern etched on his face.
He places a hand on my shoulder, massaging the tightness he finds there, and kisses my forehead.
“Thank you,” he whispers, “for saving him.”
I want to tell him that I’d do anything to keep Thorne safe. That I’d do anything to keep each one of them safe. Which seems so peculiar because only weeks ago, I’d have happily inflicted the damage myself.
I can’t find the words though. I’m too emotionally drained, still reeling from everything that’s happened. Instead, I ask him, “Where are the others?”
“Dray’s hot-tailed it up to my study to read everything he can about lumomancy,” I roll my eyes, “and Tudor slumped off to his torture chamber.”
“It’s a dungeon, not a torture chamber.”
“Sure,” he says with a smirk. “I bet that professor is into all kinds of kinky shit.”
I recall Beaufort is into some kinky stuff himself, like watching his bond brother fuck me. Thorne hadn’t been there for that either.
I peer back towards Thorne’s door.
“Is he going to be okay, Beaufort?”
Beaufort nods his head. “He just has these dark moments sometimes, Briony.” He swallows and rubs at his chin. “It’s understandable given what happened to him.”
I stare up at him with wide eyes and he looks down at me and frowns.
“You don’t know, do you? He never told you.”
