Page 141 of Taste of Thorns
“Just remember–” Fox starts.
“That I may need to do something dramatic with my magic to capture the Madame’s attention. Although, I suspect she’s going to be watching me anyway.”
“And you will need to–” Fox tries again, this time directing his comments to Beaufort.
“Persuade the Empress to penetrate any illusion spells the Madame casts and focus in on Briony,” Beaufort says, firmly.
Fox nods. “Good. At least we all know what we’re doing.”
“I’m going to be okay,” I tell him with a confidence I probably shouldn’t feel, but one I can't help feeling when I’m in the company of these four men. “This is going to work.”
“Even so. I’ve been thinking of additional ways we can keep you safe.”
“The collar,” Beaufort says.
I shake my head firmly.
“Are there any others?” Beaufort asks.
“I looked into a few. There’s one I think we could make use of, but it’s complicated.”
“What is it?” I ask.
“We each give you a piece of our magic.”
“Like Thorne did before?” Dray blurts out. “Doesn’t that risk all five of us being banished?”
Thorne’s gaze flicks to the professor and he shuffles on his feet uncomfortably.
“It’s okay,” Fox says, lifting up his palm toward Thorne. “I already know and I’m not about to snitch on you.” He focuses his attention on Dray. “This would be different. Briony would accept our magic into herself–”
“That sounds like accepting help …” I say. This plan is already dangerous and I don’t want these men to take any further risks on account of me.
“It’s not,” Fox says. “This would be different. It would allow us to track you – to feel you through our magic.”
“Would I be able to feel you too?”
“I’m not sure,” Fox says.
“Is this magic safe?” Beaufort says, asking a question I hadn’t even considered.
“The magic is tricky, but I wouldn’t suggest it if I thought it was unsafe,” Fox says, a little tetchy.
“What do we have to do?” Dray says, jumping down from the counter.
“Are you happy to do this, Briony?” the professor asks me.
“Yes,” I say, “if you think it will help.”
“It would make me feel better knowing where you were,” Thorne says.
Fox crooks his finger and I place my now empty coffee mug on the side and pace towards him. I stop right in front of him and smile up into his face. He doesn’t return the smile. His features are serious and fixed in concentration. Even so, I feel my breath whipped away, just like it was in the bedroom this morning. Even as he is now, Fox Tudor is still one of the most handsome men I’ve seen in my lifetime. His glowing eyes, ivory skin, and sharp fangs only add to his appeal.
He rests his right hand above my heart, palm against my skin, his flesh icy cold as always.
Then, holding my gaze, whispers words in the old language. I gasp as I feel his shadows permeate his hand and penetrate my skin. They are cold and make my skin and my ribs, the muscle of my heart, tingle, my magic humming in response. It’s like the times Beaufort or one of the others has healed me, except a million times more intense, and for a moment my head spins and I think I might faint.
Then his words stop, he removes his hand and I can feel the faintest trace of his shadow magic resting in the space around my heart.
