Rebel Academy: Crave

Chapter Four FOX

I shivered, stumbling through the castle’s gateway into its moon shrouded courtyard bailey. My new academy looked more like a shrine to Hecate, the witches’ goddess, than a college. I huffed out a breath, and my guts churned.

For a mage, attending Rebel Academy and discovering a shrine was as bad as striding into your enemy’s camp and discovering that they were using models of your dick as target practice.

I cringed. Wait, what if the witch professors were doing that as well…?

I swung in a circle, staring up at the pink-and-black striped towers at each corner of the courtyard, until I was dizzy. At least there were no huge striped dicks (yeah, I went there…huge) with flaming arrows through them.

But Pan’s blue balls, this academy was vast.

I’d forgotten how it felt to be surrounded by so much space, since I’d been locked up for over a decade. It was overwhelming, and I was caught between the twin sensations of hurling and huddling beneath the altar beside the gatehouse.

Yeah, Fox, that’d give an outstanding first impression.

Why did the witches of the House of Crows need a castle that could withstand siege warfare? Did they expect a horde of orcs to sweep out of the frozen woods? A flock of enraged harpies? The Incredible Hulk? Or was it more about who they were imprisoning inside their walls…? This was the Rebel Academy, after all, where professors from across the magical arts reformed the most dangerous supernaturals. It was Oxford University’s secret college, founded by witches and hidden from the non-magicals’ sight on the bank of the river Thames.

Why did it feel like a prison?

I should’ve been honored that I’d been granted a place as a Rebel student… Wait, did I mean honored or terrified…?

I hunched my shoulders, clutching my suitcase closer to my chest, and that didn’t make me feel at all like I was hiding from…whoever…was watching me from the shadows.

I’d known that it’d be hard to attend the academy as a mage, even though this was the one place where wars were put aside, but I hadn’t thought that I’d be in danger on my first night. Although technically, I hadn’t been supposed to arrive until tomorrow morning.

Did that count as being uninvited and a hexable offense…?

“How original to hold Hell Week before term even starts.” I bit my lip to hide its trembling. I’d expected bullying, but it was still disappointing...okay, devastating. “You can just skip the hazing because I’m already known as Lucifer in witches’ circles: hot, rebellious, and a devil at chess.” So, I admit it, I have a habit of lying. “You caught me out. I’m actually a devil at Monopoly: The Covens Edition.”

I wrinkled my nose against the stink of garlic that wafted from the altar. Did the House of Crows, who ran the academy, believe that it protected them against vampires? They should’ve known that the whole garlic myth was as false as a witch’s promise.

But then, witches had more centuries-old wars and vendettas against other supernaturals (vampires, werewolves, and mages), than ancient rules and they had a cauldron full of those.

So, it sucked to be a mage born to witches…like me.

I grimaced, rubbing at the silver Blood Amulet that hung around my neck beneath my shirt, searing my skin. The blue diamond set in its center matched my eyes, but a guy couldn’t find the romance, when it contained his own mum’s blood and was used to bind his shifter powers. The Blood Amulet stopped me from being able to do magic. Yet it couldn’t contain my ability to read the truth, which was the magical power of Confess.

I could always sense the truth, but telling lies myself was much more fun.

My natural shifter powers hissed inside at the cruelty of being trapped by mum’s Blood Magic and at the prickling sensation that pressed down from the crenelated but weirdly colorful towers.

The magic here was ancient and dark. The hairs on the back of my nape rose, as my pulse pounded.

I would’ve guessed that mum had been lying about this castle being the infamous Rebel Academy, if not for the way that she’d stroked my hair from my forehead and then kissed my cheek, before leaving me outside the ground’s wards to make my own way through the woods to the House of Crows.

Kisses didn’t lie…unlike me.

Plus, I couldn’t miss the RA crest that sparkled in neon pink and was surrounded in unfurling tree branches. It sizzled in the air above a giant bronze statue of three Hecates, who were standing back-to-back: one held a torch, another a key, and a third a snake.

Had the academy’s principal thought that one creepy goddess wasn’t enough, so she’d better clone her?

Every few minutes, the statues startled me by slinking to life and smirking as they swung their hips. Their snake slithered between them, as if to prove that a guy’s dick would now be redundant.

I blushed, whilst the goddesses sang the school’s motto to the tune of “I Put a Spell on You”:

Welcome to the Rebel Academy! Live and Die as Rebels.

I arched my brow. “Let’s focus on the living, sweet goddess. I’m rebelling against dying.”

I blinked snowflakes off my lashes, shaking them from my wavy white blond hair; the snow melted down my cheeks like tears.

Why did Hecate have to remind me about dying? I’d been hiding from that truth all day.

My eyes burned, but I wouldn’t let the tears fall. Just like I wouldn’t let myself die in this academy like I was a shameful secret just the same as my dad. I’d been dropped off here straight after his funeral. I yanked at the sleeve of my suit, which was too short, gritting my teeth.

Dad would’ve hated the sea of black at his funeral; he’d always shone like the sun. He’d lit my dark world but now he was gone, and I’d been sent to this witches’ world that was cursed to perpetual winter.

Wasn’t the cursing a little melodramatic…?

Plus, there was all the snow, when there’d been bright sunshine outside the academy’s grounds. I was regretting my final act of defiance in not bringing a coat.

Maybe that was how the Rebels died…their balls froze and dropped off.

Suddenly, a bitter wind blew away my misted breath and then puffed across my own mouth, as if a spirit was whispering words across my lips.

I paled, and my eyes widened.

Was there a ghost in the courtyard with me? Was that who’d been watching me from the shadows?

I spun in a circle. “Dad…?”

My chest ached.

Please, please, please…

The sudden cold nipped me again but this time it stroked down my cheek as if in comfort. A faint smell like yew trees wrapped around me. It was rich and dangerously intoxicating.

It wasn’t dad… Not dad, not dad, not…

Why did it feel like losing him for a second time? Yet I still relaxed into the touch, needing its tenderness and the way that it zinged through my ensnared magic like it knew what was inside me and understood. The ghost could be the Wicked Witch, but I’d still take her kindness after I’d lost my dad, family, and home.

A warm sensation far back in my mind tugged at me like she was my home.

So, there was some spook with soft breath haunting this castle prison…? So far, she was the best welcoming committee that I’d had.

The Dancing Goddesses and their Performing Snake didn’t count.

“Who are you then?” I murmured, straining to make out even an outline.

I hurled down my suitcase, wafting my hands through the air in front of me. My fingers tingled with the desperation to touch, but I couldn’t feel anything.

My eyes pricked with tears again, until that same cool breath whispered across my ear. I jumped and then laughed. My joy echoed through the bailey, and all three of Hecates’ statues tutted.

Witching heavens, maybe I wouldn’t be alone here, even if I was a mage.

I bounced on the balls of my feet in excitement. “I’m Fox of the House of Jewels. You’ve probably heard of me: lover, legend, and liar.” The puff of air against my neck was definitely a laugh. My lips curled into a smile. “Laughing at me already? So, you have heard of me?”

When the smell of yew trees faded along with the icy breath, I booted the cobbles, rubbing at my neck.

Why did she have to fade away?

The Rebel Ghost had made me feel safer than I had in a long time, and if she was another student here, then I wanted her back.

I prowled to the altar, which was black with crows’ feathers and charred birds’ skulls. My suit was too tight and pulled across my chest, as well as rubbing at my dick and balls. Mum still saw me as the boy who she’d locked away for having magic. She didn’t realize that I’d turned into a man.

Oh, and a fox, cat, and hedgehog with serious attitude.

My two powers were to shift into animals and to tell the truth behind people’s lies. Both were about masks. Although, I’m what dad had always called a pathological liar with his secret smile like he understood that it was the only way I could protect myself.

I wished that I’d known to lie when my magic had come in because lies are the only thing more powerful than magic.

My older sister, Hartley, had been begging mum for a kitten, but we didn’t have pets in our coven because everything had to be neat, beautiful, and perfect. As the pretty non-magical son, I’d been mum’s prize jewel. She’d already had marriage offers for me when I came of age that would further the power of our House.

Animals risked messing up our House’s image. Only, it turned out that my magic was natural like the way that I’d shifted into a white Birman kitten with sparkling blue eyes and a crooked tail (because that was how I rolled) to please my sister.

I’d always wanted to make my family happy as a kid. Ironic, right?

My magic had surged through me with a wild warmth and thrilling freedom. My mind had been liberated from lies and the falseness of polite words, leaving behind simply instinct.

The instinct in my kitten form for naps, mice, and feathery things to chase.

I’d snuggled on my back, purring and waiting for the strokes to begin. Instead, there’d been screaming, followed by nails digging into the scruff of my neck and hurling me into my room. After that…

Breathe, come on, breathe.

I forced my ragged breathing to steady, counting to a hundred backward in my head. I hated that these memories could still trigger panic but I hated even more that my first shift had stolen everything from me.

After that, I’d never been allowed to talk to anyone but my dad, cousin Aquilo, and the family werewolf again for thirteen years.

It turned out that shimages — or shitmages as I’d thought mum had meant until Aquilo had explained it, whilst giggling — who can transform into animals are both rare and the most hated within the witch world.

Wait, maybe I was right with the shitmage.

If dad hadn’t died, I’d still be trapped in the attic. It made me numb with guilt that his death had freed me, even if I’d been sent to the one place that I’d been raised to fear. But to a guy who’d spent his teenage years in an attic, a magical education even by witches on cursed grounds was appealing. I was desperate to be allowed to attend classes, meet the other students, and explore all this space.

Rebel Ghost had awoken my magic and breathed a life into me that’d been buried since the day I’d revealed my kitteny side. What was a guy to do when he spent his nights dreaming of being stroked and petted, but his days curled shut up alone?

Okay, he wanked…a lot.

“Hey,” I called into the darkness, “I know that I’m early and wasn’t meant to be here until the morning but…” …My mum didn’t want to hang around because she’s ashamed that her son’s a mage… “…I was so excited to shiver my ass off in your charming reception area that I flew by broomstick.” And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how you work sarcasm. “I tell a lie: it was a magic carpet. No wait, this swirling portal opened and…”

There was only silence.

The full moon hung heavy and fat in the sky. I fiddled with my blue diamond cuff links, which matched my amulet.

“Do I need to summon the witches? Is this the Principal’s desk? Would it work with a spook?” I toyed with the bell on the altar, lining it up out of habit with the oak wreath and gagging on the garlic stench. “Hecate, how about helping me out?” The tiny statue of Hecate at the back narrowed her eyes, before flicking me off. I smothered my grin behind my hand. “Oh, you little rebel.”

She smirked, blowing a raspberry.

“The gloves are off, bitch.” I snatched the bell, ringing it above my head with a sudden buzz that I hadn’t experienced in years. At the same time, I sang “Ding, Dong, the Witch is Dead” loudly enough to make even me wince.

Tiny Hecate howled, dropping to her knees and pressing her hands over her ears.

Everyone’s a critic.

Then her eyes flashed with a surge of malicious magic that made me break off my enthusiastic song and shrink back, as she wagged her finger at me and pointed behind the altar.

I dropped the bell and crouched down, peering into the shadows at the cage that’d been built there.

Why on a kitten’s crooked tail did an academy (even a reformatory), need a cage? Unless that was one of the more creative punishments for low grades.

I shrugged; I’d been used to an attic. A cage wasn’t so much worse.

Then glowing amber eyes glared out at me, and a rumbling growl blew my hair back from my forehead.

This is your best suit…don’t wet your pants, don’t wet…

When a werewolf, whose white fur glittered under the moonlight, clacked on golden claws to the front of the cage, I clapped my hands. “Hey, gorgeous, why’d they lock you up here?”

The werewolves’ growl cut off in shock, and he blinked at me through eyes that had thicker eyelashes than I’d seen on a wolf. Glow would’ve been sassing up a storm about them. He was my best friend…okay, only friend…okay, werewolf slave…in the House of Jewels. I’d received more whippings for encouraging that beast’s sass than for my own backtalk.

If Hecate thought that a werewolf would scare me, then it just showed how little witches bothered to understand mages.

I smiled at the wolf. What did the shifter look like when it wasn’t the full moon? I’d bet that he was beautiful. I had the theory that was why witches had forced the Alphas to sacrifice so many of their Omegas into the witches’ not so loving care, after they’d defeated them in the Wolf Wars.

The wolf’s fur bristled. He bared his fangs and snarled.

Lie: I’m a big bad wolf; fear me.

Truth: I’m an Omega slave to the witches who use me as a guard dog for Hecate’s altar. I’m lonely. Do you want to play?

My gaze softened. “Have you ever tried the game Two Truths and One Lie?”

When I wriggled my arm through the bars of the cage, my heart thudded against my ribs. If the wolf tore off my fingers, then I took everything back: I was a shitmage.

Instead, the wolf nuzzled against my hand like he was as desperate for touch as me. I stroked his ears, and he whined, arching his back and dipping his head to peek up at me.

“One: I’m a pathological liar. Two: I believe that I must count backward from a hundred every day or I’ll never be allowed to shift. Three: my mum told me that my own dad died because of my wickedness.”

When had my cheeks become wet?

At the Omega’s howl — he’d picked number three — I shook my head.

“They were all true; that’s the trick. Come on, pathological liar here.” I gave a smirk but I knew that I hadn’t pulled it off by the soft lick of the Omega’s tongue across my palm. Wow, that reminded me of Glow. Wolves had a charming licking fetish. “I hope that my wolf’s okay,” I muttered. “He’d hate it if mum’s caged him again.”

Or if my sister, Hartley, had put him in a dog bed and pinned ribbons in his curly hair like he was her pet. Hartley had always been desperate to play with Glow when we were kids. My breath hitched, as I hit the Erase Button on that image.

The Omega nudged me hard with his nose, and I winced.

Truth: Did you take an insensitive pill? We’re all caged.

I caressed the Omega’s silky ear, before I murmured low enough that I hoped even the Hecate statues couldn’t hear me, “Why should you trust someone like me? But even so, I promise that I’ll learn the magic lessons from these witches and then I’ll free us all.”

The Omega’s eyes sparked, as he nodded.

Suddenly, Hecate’s bronze snake shot out like a lasso, whipping around my neck. I struggled, as the Omega howled and scrabbled at the bars of his cage. Hecate hauled backward, however, jerking me into the air. My heartbeat raced, whilst I flailed. My lungs burned at the lack of air. Hecate dragged me into her embrace, finally loosening the snake just enough for me to take a desperate breath. Then she trailed her hands up and down my chest. Her sisters writhed in excitement that they’d hooked their wizard prize.

I bit on my lip hard not to beg to be put down, as I dangled from the statue’s arms.

“Hey, give my Voted Sexiest Mage’s Ass in England a chance here. Surely you’re not going to kill me, before I’ve even had a chance to become your Star Pupil…or should it be Model Prisoner…?” I demanded.

The high-pitched desperation in my voice was enough to call bullshit without needing my powers of Confess.

Mum had always warned me that if she let me free, I’d die. I hated to prove her right on my first night independent from my family.

The snake noosed my neck even tighter, and I choked.