“Briony,” our thrall answers, lifting her chin and meeting Lady Smyte’s gaze. “Briony Storm.”
If that means anything to her, she doesn’t show it on her face and all I read in her eyes is amusement and derision.
“It is rather sweet of Beaufort to bring you to the palace,” she says, with a pat smile, “imagine the stories you’ll be able to tell all your friends and family when you return to Slate.”
“IfI return to Slate,” Briony points out.
“Oh yes,” she says, “of course,if.” She flicks her gaze away and back to me.
“I’m sure you’ve heard lots about me too,” Briony says, with a fierce look on her face, clinging on to my arm as if she wants it to be known that I am as much hers as she is mine. “I’m sure your daughters must have mentioned me.”
“I don’t think so, darling. They aren’t really concerned with commoners,” Bonnitta sneers, before turning around and walking away.
“She was about as charming as her daughters,” Briony mutters when she’s gone.
“And a lot crazier,” Dray says.
I pull her deeper into the throng of people. With Thorne by our side, the crowd naturally parts for us, nobody wanting to get too close to my powerful bond brother.
A couple more people stop to talk with us. They’re intrigued by the mystery beauty, although as dismissive as Lady Smyte when they determine Briony is not one of us. I’m tempted to shake them silly, yell in their faces that she’s better, her magic unique, her powers growing and that’s before you even consider the dragon.
“Jeez,” Briony mutters, when another woman turns her nose up at our thrall, “is everyone here always so nasty? Are there no nice people?”
“Dray’s parents are here,” I say, nodding my head in the direction of a large woman with cropped platinum hair and a solid man in a wheelchair.
“Ha,” Dray responds, ducking his head so his parents don’t spot him. “They’re anything but nice.”
“So there’s no one pleasant in this whole entire gigantic room?”
I spin my gaze around all the people searching for at least one person I’d consider a friend or at least good company. I’m struggling to find just one.
“Yeah, probably not.”
“The only person worth seeing at the palace is Hells Bells,” Dray says and I nod in agreement as Briony frowns.
Maybe we won’t come live at the palace after all. Maybe we could be like Dray’s parents – choosing to spend most of our time out in our house and not at court. In fact, that sounds ideal – just us – far away from everyone and everything.
Briony slides her hands more firmly around my bicep. “Jeez, I’m going to murder Fly when we get back to the apartment. My feet are killing me already! How do all these ladies do it?”
“When we get back to the apartment, I’ll give you a foot massage, Kitten, In fact …” Dray says. His eyes twinkle.
“Don’t say it,” I warn him.
“Why not?” He cackles. “It’s not like half these losers aren’t getting up to all sorts of kinky shit behind closed doors, and well, yeah, not-so-closed doors.” He winks at me.
As the room is full of a lot of old wrinkly men, I really don’t want to think about that.
“Ahhh, shit,” Dray mumbles, “I think I’ve been spotted.” He ducks his head and pushes his way through the crowd, walking in the opposite direction to his parents.
“He really doesn’t like his parents,” Briony says, watching him go.
I shake my head. “I’ve known Dray all my life and yet I’ll never understand the relationship between him and his family. He clearly loves them dearly – after all he gained that scar protecting his father when their vehicle was ambushed by another pack.” Briony’s eyes widen in horror. “His family clearly love him back and yet there are constant struggles for dominance.”
“It must be a wolf thing,” Briony says.
“Yeah.” Although I think it has a lot to do with my bond brother’s erratic behavior too.
“How long until dinner?” Briony asks me next.
