“But what if I shoot my load too early?”
“I’m going to be honest with you, Thorne,” he says, picking at more goo on his skin. “There’s a good chance that could happen. Especially your first time. Especially with a fucking siren like Little Kitten.” He groans. “But Briony’s not a bitch. She cares about you. And that means she’s not going to be concerned about that.”
“If I come too quickly, it won’t be good for her and I want it to be good.”
“Of course you do. But the other thing you have to understand about Little Kitten is she’s fucking sensitive.” He grins. “One little flick of her bean and she’s coming all over your tongue and your fingers and your cock.” He licks his lips as if he’s imagining it. “So even if youdocome a little on the speedy side, there’s a good chance she’ll have already had her satisfaction. In fact, you should make sure she comes before you get started.”
I go to argue with him.
“But,” he says, raising a hand to stop me from interrupting, “if you’re really finding you need help, there’s two things you can try, okay? One: think fucking unsexy thoughts. Like the most asexual images you can imagine. Me personally, I think about the annual flea inspection.” He visibly shudders. “Then two,” he says, smiling wickedly at me, “if things are really desperate? Just give your balls a good old yank.”
“Really?” I say. “That works?”
“Desperate times call for desperate measures, my man,” he says.
“Do you think I’m an asshole thinking about stuff like this at a time like now?”
“No, I think that’s what being in love does to you. Especially being in love with a woman like Briony Storm.”
Beaufort halts in front of us. “Can you two stop gossiping like a pair of old grandmothers and hurry the fuck up?” he calls out to us, interrupting our discussion.
We both jump, and pick up our pace, coming to join our bond brother.
More time passes, more distance traveled, and then I say, “I have an idea.”
“You do?” Beaufort says, clearly surprised. I’ve always been reluctant to offer up my ideas. What happened to me has made me cautious. I don’t always trust myself. I’d rather go with other people’s plans and other people’s ideas.
“I think it’s the only way,” I say. “We conceal ourselves with our shadows.”
It’s simple, effective, but there’s also a lot that could go wrong. There could be spells set in the academy looking for people using their magic to hide. And the magic itself might falter. And then there are those with the power of scent, like Dray and Tudor, who aren’t fooled by a magic that tampers with vision.
I don’t see there’s any other way, though.
And so when we reach the edge of the forest that borders the academy grounds, we wind our shadows around our bodies and disappear into the murky darkness.
Chapter Eleven
Briony
I’m so lost in my thoughts as we step out of the hidden room in the library and stride back through the shelves that I don’t notice anyone else is waiting, hidden among the books, until a firm hand grips my arm and a voice booms in my ear.
“Where the hell have you been?”
I jolt. Clare gives a squeak and Fly nearly stumbles over his own feet. For a moment my magic flashes in my veins, then subsides. It’s Fox. Only Fox. I stare up into his face and I’m unable to find the words to explain, to tell him. I open my mouth, but where do I even begin?
“It’s the Princes,” he says quickly. “Have you heard?” His gaze zigzags across my face anxiously.
It has my blood running cold and my spine stiffening.
“What?” I say, steeling myself for the answer.
“They’re due to be executed, Briony. Executed today.”
Clare squeaks again, her hands rushing to cover her mouth, and even Fly gasps. Again, I can’t find the words.
“What?” I whisper.
“The Princes,” Fox repeats. “They’re going to be?—”
