Bound: A Why Choose Academy Shifter Romance (Thornbriar Academy Book 2)

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Bound: A Why Choose Academy Shifter Romance (Thornbriar Academy Book 2) Page 4

by Cali Mann


  She gasped, the sound echoing in my new ears, and plastered herself against the wall.

  I huffed. Smoke billowed from my nostrils, and I could feel the fire warming my stomach. Hailey, I tried to say, but my vocal cords were not made for words. Hailey, I said mentally, hoping she’d see the intent in my eyes.

  “Brenton,” she whispered. “You’re a dragon.”

  More smoke erupted as I tried to laugh. I pawed the ground with my talons and snorted. Of course, I’m a dragon. I mean, I hadn’t known that I was before I turned, but now it seems obvious.

  “Not obvious.” She said with a giggle. “Dragons are rare, I thought.”

  You can hear me? I hollered mentally.

  She grasped the side of her head with both hands, and said, “Yeah. Please don’t shout though!”

  I grinned, but it must have looked crazy on my dragon mouth because she snorted.

  “Can I touch you?”

  Leaning my head down like a puppy, I waited.

  She stepped forward and ever so lightly laid her hand on my brow. “Fuck. A real dragon.”

  I tried to unfold my wings, but there wasn’t room in the cave. Shoving my way to the front, I broke through the frozen waterfall and one of my wings unfurled across the iced river. I tried to grin again, but it probably looked ridiculous.

  Twisting and turning, I lumbered out onto the ice. Creaks and groans echoed behind me and Hailey screamed. I spun around and gazed at the cave, ice and rocks pelted her from where my size had loosened them. Reaching out a wing, I held it over her so she could hurry out.

  “Thanks,” she said, stroking the flesh of my wing. “You’re the most amazing black onyx color.”

  Wanna ride? I tried to waggle my eyebrows but I could tell by her eww expression that it didn’t work so well on a dragon face.

  “Don’t you want your first time to be solo?”

  Come on. I bent down, so she could use a nearby boulder to climb up on my back.

  “Are you sure you know how to fly?”

  I laughed.

  Oh, I know. It’s as natural as breathing.

  With a grin, Hailey climbed aboard. She grasped the ridges along my spine as if she was holding a horse’s mane.

  I bounded into the air and took off, soaring over the pine tree-covered mountains. The cold wind rushed across my face and I exhaled. The snow had let up, and the sun tried to peek through the clouds. Hailey clung to my back, and the world felt right for once.

  11

  Hailey

  We climbed higher and higher through the air until clouds trailed alongside us, and I slipped my hand through them. Brenton’s dragon was a powerful beast, and the heat he gave off was like a wood stove. His nearness kept me warm even in the cold winter skies. When the clouds broke, and the sun hit his black scales, they shined like obsidian stones. We soared over the mountains, and below us miles and miles of forest. Too high to see or be seen, we were free to explore.

  The ride through the skies with Brenton was incredible, but once we landed, he was starving, and we headed to the dining hall. The smell of pot roast and garlic potatoes met us at the door, and I hesitated, before remembering what Headmaster Larkin had said. Garlic has no effect on vampires.

  We dived inside, still covered in snow from our hike, and filled our platters. Turning to look for a spot, I froze, realizing everyone was looking at us.

  “Well, well, well,” Greta said, twirling her blonde hair around her finger. “Asshole Brenton finally found someone.”

  Monica sneered from her seat.

  I could deal with the loathsome twins, but when I glanced toward the doors and saw Terrin and Adrian standing there, I almost dropped my tray. Shit.

  The anger in Adrian’s expression I could tolerate. It was the utter despair in Terrin’s that made my heart curl up in a painful ball. I took a breath and tried to think of anything to make it better, to make the whole situation better.

  But then I raised my chin. It wasn’t my fault that they couldn’t deal. The mate marks must be a mistake. I wasn’t mated to them, and I was a free woman. I wouldn’t be caged again.

  Brenton set his tray on the nearest table and stepped forward, bristling. He was looking for a fight.

  “No,” I said, touching his arm. “Let’s just get out of here.”

  He met my eyes, with a questioning look, and I nodded. It wasn’t worth it. He grabbed his food, and we headed out the back door of the hall.

  I looked around, wondering where we should go, and with a grin, I said, “Come up to my place.”

  We climbed the stairs of the girls’ dorm silently and slipped into my suite. It was empty, as Monica had once told me, no one ate alone unless they had to. After dropping our coats and boots at the door, we perched on the sofa and dug into our food. There was a kind of perfect accord between us, eat first, talk later.

  After Brenton ate his last roll, he set his tray on the coffee table next to mine. “Are you going to forgive them?”

  “Forgive who?” I said, twisting my hands in my lap.

  “Your boyfriends.”

  “No.” I put a world of meaning into the word. No, they weren’t my boyfriends. No, I wasn’t going to forgive them for keeping their marks from me. No, I didn’t think I could ever be with them again.

  “Do you forgive me?”

  “For what?”

  “Shifting in the middle of our make-out session?” He laughed.

  I grinned. “That part was awesome. In fact, that’s why I brought you up here.”

  He raised a cocky eyebrow. “To try again?”

  “No,” I said, heat rising in my cheeks, because damn if I didn’t want to. “But I have something for you. A gift.”

  Now he really looked confused. I bet he didn’t get presents very often. I jumped up and ran into my room, bringing out a Christmas wrapped present.

  “You bought me a Christmas gift?”

  I shrugged. “Well, I didn’t know at the time that it was for you. I was getting gifts for the guys at that little mercantile store the school bus takes us to.”

  “Okay.”

  “And something told me I should buy this too.” Something like a ghost. I chuckled, thinking back to that day before the holiday break. Wandering around the store, I had just about given up finding presents when I’d found an upstairs room with some unusual paintings among the mountain motif: a jaguar, a merman, a crow, and a dragon. I hadn’t wanted to get the dragon, but a ghost had encouraged me to. At least I figured it was a ghost or a spirit or something. I handed the package to Brenton before I thought any more about it.

  He unwrapped the paper slowly and stared at the painting of a black dragon in mid-flight.

  It was a beautiful rendition, lifelike and detailed. Especially now that I knew what a dragon looked like. I bit my lip as I waited for his reaction.

  Tracing his fingers over the paint, he said, “It’s amazing, Hailey. Thank you.”

  “I’m so glad you like it.”

  “Like it?” he said, his molten eyes meeting mine. “I love it.”

  Warmth pooled in my gut, and I leaned against the back of the couch, grinning madly.

  He set the painting on the couch, and stood, pulling me into his arms. His mouth came down on mine, but there was no gentle thank you in this kiss, it seared my very soul. My legs wobbled and I would have fallen if he hadn’t held me. His muscular arms lifting me to perch on the back of the sofa.

  I wrapped my legs around him, feeling his hard length against my core. His fiery hot kisses trailed down my neck and throat, each one sending shivers down my nerves.

  Brenton stepped back. I shivered at the sudden chill left by his absence. He glanced toward the door and tilted his head in question.

  “Fuck ‘em,” I whispered, my voice husky.

  He laughed and shoved a table against the door, anyway. Then he turned back to me, and with a cocky smile, said, “Strip.”

  I slipped off the couch and pulled my shirt over my he
ad. I could feel his eyes surveying me like I was a feast waiting to be devoured. My jeans fell to the floor and, turning around, I bent to pull them off my legs.

  He groaned.

  After removing the rest of my clothing, I leaned back against the couch and raised an eyebrow. “Strip.”

  He chuckled, and yanked his tee-shirt off, revealing his broad muscular chest.

  My breath caught in my throat. I wanted to run forward and smooth my hands over it, but I held myself back. Raising an eyebrow, I gestured to his jeans.

  Brenton turned and slid them off, slowly revealing his backside as I had done.

  I swallowed, heat spiking through my body.

  Within seconds, he’d removed the rest of his clothes and strode toward me. He lifted me onto the back of the couch. Everywhere we touched I was inflamed. He stroked his fingers down my chest and across my breasts, leaving a trail of heated skin. Leaning forward, he took a pebbled nipple in his mouth and bit it, hard and fast. I cried out, curling my hands around his corded muscles.

  “Not so cold now,” he whispered, plunging a finger inside me.

  I gasped at the sudden penetration, but my core was more than ready for him. I wanted him inside me, now, filling me. I licked my lips, as he continued to suck and kiss my breasts. When his teeth grazed the other nipple, I was ready, pushing it towards his mouth.

  He laughed, low in his throat, and blew his molten breath across my nipples instead. I shuddered, wondering faintly what it would be like if he had fangs.

  Stroking my sex, he circled my clit, and pleasure streamed through me. I pressed my hips against him, straining for more, and he slapped my thigh. I gasped at the sharp tinge of it.

  Brenton shook his head at me, and I forced myself to be still. He pushed more fingers inside me. When they came out covered in glistening wetness, he grunted in satisfaction.

  Wiggling, I whimpered with need. My hands gripping the soft fabric of the couch.

  Lifting me up, Brenton pushed himself against my entrance. He lifted his fiery eyes and met my gaze. Then he slid inside me one slow inch at a time.

  “Brenton,” I cried, wanting. “More.”

  He stretched my insides with his size and my nails curled into his muscled back. When he was fully inside, he paused, watching me.

  Then a glint came into his eyes, and he pulled out, only to slam back in harder and deeper. With each thrust he opened me further until I was panting and crazed, unable to do more than mewl.

  “What do you want, Hailey?” he whispered, his voice deep and full of lust.

  “You, Brenton,” I answered. “You.”

  He pulled out all the way, letting the cool air run over my heated body and I whimpered. Then he flipped me over, spreading my trembling legs. He wrapped his fingers in my hair, cupping my neck. “Mine,” he said.

  “Yes,” I moaned, not even caring about the possessiveness, just wanting him inside me. The outside world was gone. It was just him and me and our sweat-soaked skin.

  His hardness filled me, fast and hard, and his thrusts were relentless. We smashed together and merged in one hard drive toward climax. I grasped at the couch cushions, my fingers slick with sweat.

  The pace never slowed. Pressure built along every nerve across my body. The orgasm shattered my body and mind, kaleidoscoping through waves of rapture and ecstasy.

  Afterward, we couldn’t move, lying spent and entwined on the couch.

  12

  Hailey

  Eventually, someone had to move, and I dragged myself out of our tangle of limbs.

  “Where are you going?” Brenton asked.

  “To shower,” I said.

  “Oh, me too,” he said, sitting up.

  I glanced around at the mess. “Maybe one of us should stay and clean up?”

  “What? Are you afraid we’ll get distracted?”

  “Yes,” I said with a laugh.

  He sighed, pushing a hand through his auburn hair. He started stacking the dinner dishes and the trays at the end of the coffee table, and I took that for agreement.

  I grabbed my shower caddy from my bedroom and headed to the bathroom. I scrubbed and soaped all my sore muscles. The feel of Brenton’s hands on me ran through my mind, and I regretted not letting him join me. I snorted and washed my hair. After everything was clean, I climbed out.

  When I brushed my teeth, I looked at the fangs that hid in the edges of my mouth. Strange that I hadn’t had any blood lust during sex. Was it because I was a spirit shifter that the hunger seemed to come and go? You’d think it would be all the time?

  “Hailey,” a voice whispered.

  I looked around, but the bathroom door was still closed. “Brenton?”

  There wasn’t any answer, so I turned back to the mirror. My face, but not my face looked back at me. The mirror image’s eyes were deep red, like blood. I blinked, and the image’s mouth opened in a silent scream. My hand went to my lips, but they were closed. Was I dreaming? Had I fallen asleep in the shower?

  I backed away from the sink, calling out, “Brenton!”

  The door swung open, and he stepped inside. “Are you okay?”

  Looking back at the mirror, I saw only my own reflection, with normal green eyes and a closed mouth. With a shaky voice, I said, “Yeah. I’m fine.”

  “Oh, okay,” he said, glancing around the bathroom. His jeans were on, but his chest was still bare and there was something on his shoulder.

  “Not again,” I whispered, my heart sinking.

  He frowned at me. “What is it?”

  I swallowed. “Look at your shoulder.”

  Turning he looked in the mirror, and a slow smile spread across his face. He traced the delicate outline of several leaves and intertwining vines. “You’ve marked me.”

  Moving forward, I studied the tattoo. “Is that always what it means?”

  He nodded.

  I gestured to my own shoulders, turning back and forth. “I don’t have anything.”

  “It’ll come,” he said with a shrug. “Sometimes it takes longer to appear.”

  “There’s no chance it could be someone else?” I bit my lip.

  He laughed. “No, Hailey, you’re the only one. I mean I’m not a virgin or anything, but not recently.”

  “That’s what I was afraid of.”

  With a frown, he studied me then he nodded. “I told you. I’m not afraid of you being a spirit shifter.”

  “You should be,” I said. “We’re known for going crazy.”

  “My father’s first wife was a spirit shifter. The mate bond protected her from insanity.” He looked at the floor. “But not from the Council.”

  “How did he survive?” I asked.

  “Sheer stubbornness, I suppose,” Brenton said with a wry smile.

  Voices drifted in from the other room and I frowned. “My suitemates are back.”

  Brenton turned toward the door. “I’ll just grab my shirt and go.”

  “No,” I said, more sharply than I intended. “They can’t see your mark. You grab a shower and I’ll bring the rest of your clothes in.”

  “I don’t care if they know,” he said.

  “I do.” I sighed at the hurt expression on his face. I should tell him about Adrian and Terrin, but I couldn’t. It was still too raw for me. I felt like a fly caught in a spider’s web. Every time I picked up a limb, another string tied it down. “It’s too new yet. Let’s just keep it between us for a little while.”

  He grimaced and nodded. “Okay.”

  “Thank you,” I said and slipped out the door, a towel wrapped tightly around me.

  Monica and Jocelyn stood in front of the couch, their noses scrunched up to their ears.

  I glanced around, but nothing seemed out of place. He’d stacked our dishes at the end of the table and pushed the furniture back into place. He’d left a pile of clothes on the back of the couch. “What?”

  “Did you forget you live with shifters?” Monica growled. “This place reeks of sex!�
��

  With a shrug, I grabbed the pile of clothes and strolled toward my room. “At least I’m getting some,” I called over my shoulder. I didn’t even look back to see the glower I knew must be on Monica’s face. I didn’t care what she thought of me or of my relationships. I didn’t much care about her opinion at all.

  I leaned against the closed door. Three mates. I needed some answers, and I needed them now. I grimaced. They’d said Sciro was researching it. He’d be the one to talk to. I yanked on some clothes, a pair of tight black jeans and a red sweater. After running a brush through my hair, I braided it into one long rope. One of the few useful skills I’d learned at Hastings House, other than keeping my head down and my mouth shut. I just needed to drop these clothes with Brenton and head over to the library.

  13

  Sciro

  My head was buried in a book when I smelled her. Lavender and blood were like some cocktail that set my brain to spinning and my cock to rising. That’s why I’d been avoiding her. She belonged to my brothers, somehow to both of them, I had no rights here. But it didn’t stop me from wanting.

  Looking up, I watched her cross the library. Black jeans clung to every curve, and her full breasts were outlined in a soft red sweater. I swallowed, feeling my dick already tenting my pants. I briefly considered ducking back into the stacks, but there was no avoiding the determined glint in her emerald eyes.

  “Sciro,” she said, laying her hand on my table.

  I stared at the splayed fingers, a tiny nick in the pointer finger where a stray piece of paper had sliced her. Running my tongue along my fang, I said, “Hailey.”

  Her thumb stroked the cut as if she knew where my thoughts were, and her feet moved back and forth on the green carpet.

  “What is it, Hailey?” I asked. My voice came out harsher than I intended it to.

  “Have you found anything?” She glanced around and whispered, “About the mates’ thing?”

  I pressed my lips together. “No, nothing but obscure references in ancient volumes.”

 

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