I hope she’s okay. I hope she’s safe.
As if thinking these thoughts pulls the place from the earth, we spy something in the distance, and soon it’s clear: the train station. That isolated platform in the middle of nowhere.
We pick up our pace. We’re close. We know the route now. We just have to hope we reach her before she goes.
“We’re moving in the right direction,” Beaufort says, marching with steely determination ahead of me and Dray. I don’t rush to catch up with him though, I linger back with Dray who seems to sense I want to talk to him.
That green goo still covers his skin, leaving him glowing a strange color under the cloudy light. He picks at the dried slime on his wrists, unable to stop examining the new marks on his wrists.
“I told you they’d come,” I tell him. “You just had to be patient.”
“Easy for you to say,” he mutters, glancing toward my wrists. For once, they’re exposed. I’m not wearing my gloves – I discarded them somewhere back in that room in the Black Tower. It feels strange for my hands to be free, no longer encased. And though my shadows are desperate to find Briony, they’re so much calmer and more controlled than they once were.
I give my shifter bond brother a hard stare.
“I know all about patience, Dray,” I remind him.
He grimaces, realizing his mistake. “Sorry, man. But hey,” he says, smirking at me, “that’s all changed, right? You and Briony, you know.” He waggles his eyebrows.
“Not yet,” I say.
“What the fuck, Thorne? What does that mean –not yet? ‘Not yet’ I haven’t fucked her every way it’s possible for a man to fuck a woman, not yet? Or ‘not yet’ I haven’t fucked her with you and Beaufort together, not yet?”
“Not yet,” I stress. “Not yet.We haven’t gone all the way.”
“All the way.” Dray cackles, obviously finding that turn of phrase amusing. But when he realizes I don’t share his amusement, the laughter dies on his lips. “Why not?” he says.“You’re not worried about your shadows, are you? Or is it her? Is she worried about the size of your humongous dick?”
“I’m not worried about my shadows anymore. I don’t think they’d ever do anything to hurt her.” I glance towards him. “Do you think that’s foolish? Am I kidding myself?”
Dray shakes his head, serious for once. “Nah, I’ve seen your shadows when you’re with her, man. They’re captivated by her, mesmerized. They wouldn’t hurt her.” He sniffs. “So itisyour cock then?” he says, grinning again.
“No,” I say. “It’s just…” I hesitate. “I want it to be special.”
I expect him to laugh at me. Dray may be a big softie underneath, buried somewhere among all that psychopathic stuff, but he’s never been big into romance. I’m not sure he’d understand. So I’m surprised when he replies:
“It’s Briony, Thorne. Of course it will be special.”
“Are you sure? I don’t think it would have been that special if we were doing it out there in the demon wastelands …” I trail off.
“You have a point.”
We keep walking. There’s more I want to say, but it takes me a few minutes to pluck up the courage. Seems ridiculous. I’ve fought demons, monsters, have escaped the Black Tower and the demon wastelands (twice), yet talking about this stuff with one of my closest friends – with my bond brother – seems infinitely more difficult.
“What if I’m no good at it?” I ask my friend.
Dray looks me up and down.
“Thorne, you may not have my good looks, my charisma, or my sex appeal, but you’re a decent-enough-looking dude. A lot of girls want to fuck you. Little Kitten will be orgasming just thinking about fucking you.”
“Maybe,” I say, not believing a word of that, “but I still want it to be good for her. And…” I hesitate once more. “What if I don’t know what to do?”
“Ah,” Dray says, glancing ahead of us towards where Beaufort is marching several feet in the distance, focused and determined to reach the academy. “You don’t need to worry about that, man. It’s instinctual. In the moment, you’ll know what to do.”
“Will I, though?” I say. “I’m not like you, Dray. I’m not a wolf. And I’ve been suppressing my instincts for nearly a decade. My instincts have been volatile and dangerous. They’re probably messed up.”
“Sure, I’m a wolf, and my instincts are probably more refined and better conditioned than yours,” Dray says without a hint of irony or modesty. “But you’re a man. You know what I mean – you still have those instincts. You thrust your cock in her soaking wet pussy, you’ll know exactly what to do.”
I feel a little bit more reassured. But there’s another worry on my mind.
