In The Devil's Stables (Spirited #1)

Thorne's POV - Bonus Chapter

*A\N* Ever wondered what happened between the Epilogue and Teaser for Lord Thorne? Wait no further! Here's an extra bonus scene I had written from Thorne's POV of the Epilogue and a bit further. Since he's being kind of an arse as I am trying to write his story, I'm calling him out! Ha! Enjoy seeing more into Thorne's backstory, and I hope to have new stuff posted soon. Enjoy!*

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So," Lord Vincent, Viscount Thorne asked, turning towards his childhood friend, "how does it feel?"

The wedding feast had been going on for almost an hour and Thorne was chomping at the bit for just this moment.

Lord Greyson, Earl of Claymore, had finally left his bride's side, and yet, Thorne was disgruntled to see, his friend's eyes were still thoroughly following Charlotte about the room, a soft smile on his face.

What would that be like? Thorne wondered briefly. He shook his head, casting the ridiculous notion to the side.

Marriage was not for him.

It never would be.

Thorne cleared his throat, bringing Greyson's attention back to him. Seeming to realize a question had been left unanswered, Greyson hummed low in his throat. He nodded to his wife. "She makes me happy, Thorne."

And....cue!

"Well, yes," Thorne said, subduing the grin threatening to break over his lips. "I can see that, dear friend, but actually I was referring to something else entirely."

Greyson's gaze finally focused fully on Thorne, a wary expression entering his gray eyes.

This time, Thorne let the grin spread across his face. "I was wondering how those petticoats of yours are faring these days? Have you broken them in yet?"

Thorne didn't have to wait long for the punch line to sink in before Greyson's forbidding scowl tightened brows. "Goddamn it, Thorne. If you don't behave I'm going to...to..."

As Greyson floundered, Thorne leaned in, his golden brow lifting. "You'll what? Swat me with your reticule perhaps? Snap me on the wrist with your fan?"

Thorne circled his friend, making a show of casing his friend's attire.

"Are those hidden in your petticoats as well?"

Greyson's fists clenched, and Thorne found his delayed moment of amusement had been well worth the wait.

God above, but it had!

Unfortunately, Greyson's scowl all too soon fled his features, his attention once more arrested by his wife. Thorne let himself peruse the lady in question, smiling at his friend's good fortune. Greyson needed a spirited bride for himself. None other would be able to challenge Greyson so thoroughly, keep him from secluding himself off from the rest of the world.

Whether marriage was a preferable outcome or not, Thorne mused.

Glancing back to Greyson, Thorne had to wonder what it would be like? To be loved so? To be so besotted. Would it be worth it?

Or would Thorne simply turn into a monster, just like his father?

Greyson shifted next to him, and Thorne's attention snapped back into his surroundings. Greyson mumbled something low beneath his breath. Something that sounded like...breeches?

Thorne glanced at his friend dubiously, wondering if Charlotte's previous disguise had addled Greyson's brain.

A bevy of laughter floated above the mindless chatter of the room, and Thorne found his gaze drawing to the delightful sound. Charlotte was speaking with her friend, Miss Sophie Beaumonte. Thorne narrowed his eyes as he watched her hand behind her back, feeling the table for...