Rebel Academy: Crush

Chapter Fourteen FOX

For a fox (even an Arctic one with pretty cream fur), a Hunt only ended two ways: your blood dying the snow crimson or your fluffy tail waving goodbye, as you ran and hid.

Was Saving Your Ass on the lesson plan? I should drop it into Damelza’s Suggestion Box.

My heart beat wildly, as I lowered my head in my Arctic fox form, slinking through the trees of the Dead Wood. My fur camouflaged me against the snow. My senses were enhanced, and I sniffed, overwhelmed by the scents of the yew trees and the thrumming magic.

Magenta.

Even though I'd had to leave her behind with Sleipnir on the trees' edges, I could sense her with my every breath. She was in the magic of the wood. As my paws pressed against the cold snow, I could even sense her pulsing through the earth like she was kissing me on each step.

I was safe, despite the fact that if I lost this hunt, I'd be killed.

I wasn't alone.

The woman who I loved would always be with me in the academy because she was the academy. I shivered as an icy breeze whooshed down my back.

I didn't expect Magenta to save me. I simply needed her to stay with me. Now I'd save my only furry ass.

Although, when Magenta had seen the white Omega werewolf at Juni’s side, prowling towards Lysander and me with his amber eyes glowing and his teeth bared, she'd rushed forward in protest. Juni's spell had whipped the branches of the trees around her and Sleipnir, trapping them against its trunk.

Why had Magenta paled, as her breath had become ragged? Juni had held me upside down by my ankles in her class. Yet the fact that I was rating Tree Trunk Bondage, showed that my education hadn't turned out how I'd always hoped.

Anyway, the Omega was Midnight’s friend and a prisoner as well. The witches didn’t understand that werewolves didn’t intimidate mages because we were on the same side. Except, when they were set on us during a Hunt, of course.

I sniffed, yawning as I turned in a circle. Didn't they know that I was nocturnal in this form? This was cruel and unusual punishment. I should put in a complaint to the get lost, mage, you're lucky that we didn't throw you to the wolves.

Wait, I had been thrown to the wolves...

Above my head, something golden fluttered. I growled, darting deeper into the shadows.

My only consolation was that Lysander had been thrown to the wolves as well.

I glanced up at Lysander, as he half flew and half leaped from tree to tree. Grudgingly, I admitted that it was a clever tactic. This was a fox and fae hunt. Whoever was caught by the Omega first lost the Hunt.

The stakes were only my life and Midnight's wings. Brilliant.

The skill with which Lysander swung between the branches made me wish that I'd taken my own exercise regime more seriously than shaking my feline ass to funk. Lysander would wreck me in a straight race or fight. To be fair, he'd wreck me in most warrior style things but could he recite every line from Peter Pan?

I allowed myself to preen on the thought for a single moment (I did an epic impression of Hook…okay, Aquilo had played Hook, Glow had always been cast as Peter, and I’d been…was it confusing to wank over Tinker Bell when you’d been cast as her every single time…?), then I padded forward, eying the snowbanks in case the Omega was planning to ambush me.

He was as camouflaged as me with his white coat.

Lysander flew deeper into the wood like a golden hummingbird. He was breath-taking. But I was still calling unfair advantage on the wings.

A fox, however, could be sneaky.

I dashed behind the snowbanks towards a stream. The Omega would be hunting by our scents. His was deliciously sweet vanilla, and my nose quivered to catch it on the breeze. I didn't know how I smelled in this form, but Juni had allowed the Omega to bury his nose into my fur and then uncomfortably close to Lysander's cock and balls. Lysander had yelped in outrage, reddening. The Omega’s touch, however, had made my sensitive fur stand up in pleasure.

Who said that the fox never won the hunt? Wait, everybody…?

I smirked (I'm talented enough to pull that off in any animal form, even hedgehog), as I leaped into the stream, only for my eyes to widen, as I remembered that it was frozen.

Mage's balls...

Over a decade stuck inside had sort of destroyed my natural instincts and my common sense.

I whined as I hit the ice. My little legs splayed out underneath me, until I looked like a furry clown with a ludicrously long tail. My ears flattened on my head. I slid round and round and...

Landed on my ass.

Mournfully, I struggled up.

Arooo...

My fur stood on end. The howl came from the riverbank behind me. Did I say river? It was more like a stream...okay, trickle of water. It looked large, however, when you were smaller than Hecate’s ego but bigger than Pan’s cock (which was the new scientific description of all animals, in case you didn't know).

I froze.

The Omega had caught me.

I. Was. Dead.

And not the Magenta type of dead, return as a ghost, and then be resurrected. The dead that you don't come back from.

I yelped, as fangs bit into the back of my neck and lifted me into the air. Yet they were gentle like a mummy cat snatching her naughty kitten by the scruff of the neck.

Wow, that was humiliating.

Bring on the manly savaging.

The Omega growled.

He couldn't hear my thoughts, could he? I swallowed, nervously.

The Omega dropped me onto the snow in a heap, before staring down at me. His fur glittered, and his golden claws looked sharper now that he was free from his cage. Still, he was as beautiful as I remembered.

Was this it? Had I been officially caught?

I whimpered, ducking my head. My heart pounded in my ears. Then I peeked up at the Omega. He cocked his head, nudging me with his nose, before licking my ear.

Woah, personal space. But then wolves always had a thing about licking.

I'd failed Magenta and the other Immortals. I let out a desperate gekkering. They'd relied on me in this class, and I hadn't been able to outfox a single wolf. If I wasn't going to pay for it with my life anyway, I'd have to give back my fox credentials.

Damelza would be delighted. She hated mages and believed them weak. Why did I have to prove her right?

I didn't know if the Immortals would understand that I'd never expected to experience love, friendship, acceptance, kisses, or the type of connection that I had with them.

I'd give a lifetime in the attic for just this one week. I couldn’t regret being sent to Rebel Academy because I'd spent it with my Immortals.

The Omega rolled his eyes.

Truth: I'm only playing at big, bad wolf.

Embarrassed, I stopped my mournful gekkering, twisting to peer up at the wolf. He smiled at me through a mouthful of my fur. Then he spat me out, and I landed on my ass again (which was happening way too often for my ass' liking).

If it wasn't for my Power of Confess, which told me that I had less to fear from the werewolf who loomed above me than from the snowflakes on the tip of my nose, then I'd have been sitting in a puddle by now that wasn't melted water.

I'd embarrassed myself more than enough already than to look like I needed a fox sized diaper.

All of a sudden, in spray of silver glitter, the Omega transformed into a gorgeous...naked...man with bronzed muscles and strawberry blond curls. He shot me a grin, as he crouched in the snow like his changing back into a man was all I'd need to forget that he'd been hunting me, and now I'd die.

My eyes widened. None of that mattered. This gorgeous curly haired werewolf was Glow.

So, this was how it happened. Dad had always warned me that if I did nothing but hide curled in a ball (like I had when I'd first been shut away), then I'd go crazy. He'd talk to me, ask me question after question, test me on the subjects that I'd been studying, before I’d been banned from schooling.

He’d told me that if I didn't keep my mind active, then I'd lose myself.

I thought that was why he'd taken so many risks to bring me a TV, books, and allow Aquilo to visit me. In the end, Dad had died so that I could hold onto my mind.

But now, I'd lost it.

I whined, holding my paws over my head.

"By my fur, I'm trying not to terrorize your daft behind. Calm down, wee fox." Glow patted me on the head.

How was my childhood friend comforting me in the middle of the Dead Wood, when he should be in the House of Jewels, having bows tied into his hair by Hartley?

Pan's balls, I didn't care. I was going with it. Perhaps, I'd died or was disassociating with the terror of my imminent death. Whatever, it was better than a savaging.

If I was going to pretend that this was Glow then I wanted a hug.

I transformed back into a mage, who was wearing only my thin black whipping boy outfit. Sleipnir had tried to smuggle me into his woolen coat, but Juni had insisted that I take it off because it broke the rules.

Perhaps, whipping boys were meant to turn into snowmen…?

I shivered, before hurling myself at Glow, who fell onto his back in shock. I hugged him fiercely. There was nothing like a Glow hug.

I'd missed him so much.

I only realized now how it hurt like I’d been booted in the balls that I hadn't even been able to say goodbye to him.

I rested my head on Glow’s chest with a happy sigh. Then I tensed.

Glow lay beneath me stiffly. His arms hadn't even raised to loop around me.

This was nothing like a Glow hug. It was as if the Omega beneath me had never even been hugged.

I carefully raised my head to study the Omega's confused expression. Now that I looked closely, his hair was shorter than Glow's and his face was harder like he didn't dare show the joy that came to Glow so easily, even if he could be whipped for showing it in front of mum.

Glow's joy was courageous just in itself.

The Not-Glow raised his eyebrow at me, but I couldn't quite get myself to let go. He felt too much like the wolf I knew.

"Are all mages this friendly?" His Scottish voice made me shiver because it was like hearing Glow's ghost.

"You're Not-Glow," I accused.

The Not-Glow heaved me away from him like I was still in fox form — Muscle Envy was a definite thing — as his breath caught.

Then his eyes narrowed in suspicion. "You know my twin brother...?"

Twins, of course.

Wolves were sent to Omega Training Centers, before being selected by witches. They must've been separated when they were chosen, despite being twins, which was cruel even by witchy standards.

Okay, that was more likely than me being dead or crazy.

"He lives at the House of Jewels," because I didn't want to say that he was their slave, even though Not-Glow must realize that he was, "and he raised me like a big brother. He's safe." Luckily, Not-Glow didn't know that I was lying. Yet Glow wasn't stuck in the Rebel Academy with Juni, so comparatively, he was on top of the world. Not-Glow's shoulders relaxed with relief, and he shot me a grateful smile. Sometimes, white lies were all that kept people going. "I meant what I said to you at Hecate's altar. I’ll free us all, and that means Glow as well."

Not-Glow carded his fingers through my curls. "Goddess Moon! I can see why my brother likes you, single skin." I pinked. "But you can't have missed that this is a Hunt, and I've caught you."

I wet my dry lips. "Oh yeah, that."

His lips twitched. "Aye, that. But I'd rather take back a fae in my fangs. I'd never catch Glow's wee brother." I shook. Did he mean...? He edged closer to me, licking my cheek in reassurance. "There's a cottage beside the lake. Run there now and trust the Groundskeeper. Fur and fangs, he's one of the few who are kind to shifters, as well as animals. He's..." Not-Glow hesitated like he was about to admit a dangerous secret; he looked down, and his sinfully long eyelashes fluttered across his cheeks, "...my friend."

I nodded. "Run and hiding I have down. Who's this Groundskeeper then? Is he another werewolf?"

Not-Glow snorted. "Aye, right. Like they'd give a wolf that type of responsibility. Emerick was adopted by Damelza."

"She walls mages up alive but she adopts one as her son…?" I couldn't help the flinch.

"Emerick’s non-magical and strictly to be seen and not heard at all times. Nay, not seen either. That's why he has a cottage in the grounds, rather than living in the castle."

I shuddered. "You know, they went all out on their Cinders remake."

Not-Glow growled. "His name is Emerick." I shivered. Definitely both the dominant brother and not a fan of fairy tale retellings. “I'll set off a firework flare when my quarry is caught." His amber eyes flashed. I wouldn't want to be Lysander. "You, wee brother, stay hidden until then."

I fiddled with the cuff of my shirt to hold in the intense emotion that had coursed through me at the wee brother.

It’d sounded so like Glow. Yet it hadn’t been him.

Would I ever see Glow again?

Not-Glow noticed, catching my hand between his. "You're the first person to ever talk to me like...flay me, this is hard...to see me as more than an Omega and to care that I'm not free. I believe that you can rescue us, but for that, you have to survive. Damelza detests your hide."

I shrugged. "And there I was planning our wedding." I might've made myself hurl a little. I brushed one of Not-Glow's curls behind his ear, and he startled like he'd never experienced the tender gesture before. "I can continue thinking of you as Not-Glow, the Anti-Glow, Glow Mark Two, Glow II, or..."

"Snow," the werewolf previously known as Not-Glow said. He glanced around at the shadows between the trees like even here someone would overhear and punish him for using his name, rather than Om. "At the Omega Training Center, it was a reward to be allowed out to work on the gardens, even in winter, clearing the snow because the guards hated the cold and wouldn’t oversee us. Moon knows, I loved it because I missed the trees in the Wilds, where I'd been a cub, before..." He paled, and I knew that he was battling to break free of the memory: When he was taken from his home and locked away. It’d happened to me because of my magic, and I struggled too. "My brother and I wanted to sound alike. He was the one who glowed like it didn’t even matter how crappy our day was, he’d brighten it. I took the name snow to remind me of the fun moments we’d steal in the winter gardens, even when I was shut in the dark."

I squeezed his hand because I needed to remind him that he was no longer in the dark. Yet we were both still trapped. I had faith that with Magenta by my side, however, we could be freed.

"Not that I'd ever argue against saving my life," I stood, still holding onto Snow's warm hand, "but isn't hiding me in a cottage and chasing only Lysander sort of...just a little bit...cheating?"

Snow's smirk was devilish. "I'd say that it was sort of rebelling."

I hid behind the high yew hedge that surrounded the back of the Groundskeeper's cottage. It was like a secret garden with a high oak gate, which was overgrown with ivy.

I whined, scrabbling at my fluffy ears.

Was Emerick a fairy tale giant, luring animals in for his stew? Let's be honest, with a mage's luck in a coven-run academy, I had a good chance of my bones being ground for bread.

I waved my nose in the air defiantly, before pushing on the gate.

Locked.

When I'd skirted the lake, my lungs had burned. My breath had ghosted the cold air. I hadn’t dared to look behind me at the thrumming darkness of the wood.

Snow was risking his life to hide me and hunt Lysander. He hadn't admitted it, but the truth had screamed through my mind on every one of his panted breaths.

The cottage had lain in darkness. My heart had thudded painfully fast. How long would I have before Juni checked where I was?

Suddenly, footsteps crunched through the snow. I whimpered.

Horn and hoof, Great Pan, let it be Hagrid...

I screwed shut my eyes as the shadow loomed over me. "Poor thing, have you been waiting for me?"

That didn't sound like Hadrid, Britain's last giant Gogmagog (oh yeah, I knew my giant lore), or even the Jolly Green Giant. The voice was as smooth as honey.

Would licking Emerick be a polite greeting? In fox form, I appeared to have some of the same urges as the werewolves or perhaps, Emerick just had that effect on people.

I was about to open my eyes and test out the theory because I mustn't neglect my study of Science, when Emerick grabbed me by the neck and dropped me into a basket.

I yelped. Something pressed uncomfortably into my manly parts. I wriggled around, baring my fangs.

Why did everyone foxhandle me?

Then the basket lurched, as it was picked up.

My eyes snapped open in shock, and I stared up at Emerick. His skin was velvet ebony, and his dark hair was woven with feathers. He was dressed only slightly warmer than my whipping boy clothes, even though his job was based outdoors. He wore heavy boots and leather chocolate brown trousers and shirt that matched his eyes, as if to mark him out from the students.

Yet he was the same age as the Rebels.

His gaze softened, as he studied me. "Are you injured, fox? How about we get you inside and check you over?"

Who was he, witchy Dr Doolittle?

Sweet Pan, if Emerick could talk to the animals, then he'd better keep that trick well hidden, or he'd end up like me. Banished to a comfy cottage in the grounds would turn into banished to the dungeons.

Emerick stroked my head to calm me, as I scrabbled anxiously over the knobbly pears underneath me.

"Shh, you're okay." Emerick slipped a rusty key into the gate, and it squeaked open. "Once we're inside, it's charmed so that my family or the other professors can't see or hear us." So, that was why Snow had chosen this hiding spot. "You made a mistake hunting on these grounds."

That meant the academy wasn't set up to keep out animals, but I didn't expect that they survived long. Unless, Emerick had set himself the job of helping them.

I liked him already.

I peeked over the lip of the wicker basket at the garden. Then I gasped. The cottage was tiny, ancient, and thatched. It leaned to one side like it was too tired to keep standing. The garden was nothing but a wave of snow, which lapped at the cottage.

Apart from the ice sculptures.

My ears perked, and I balanced on the edge of the basket. A crowd of ice sculptures, which were the most beautiful things that I'd ever seen (apart from Magenta), lived in the garden like they were Emerick's silent family. An elephant blew water playfully at a snarling tiger. An elf climbed the branches of an ice tree, while a vampire waved to him. A sleeping dragon circled the entire garden, even as a family of wolf cubs played on his tail.

It was art, life, and freedom.

They sang truth with a piercing violin note that was so pure and perfect that I shivered. I'd never heard anything like it before. I ached inside like I needed to cry and I didn't understand why. But then, I'd never been to an art gallery before. My doodles were epic but nothing like this.

Emerick studied me, then he chuckled. "It's like revelation, isn't it? I'm never alone now. My friend makes them for me." His gaze glowed with such warmth that I couldn't help the twinge of jealousy. Who was this friend? Wait, did he mean Willoughby? "He's talented." As understatements went, that was up there with calling the Sistine Chapel pretty. "And being here with me and creating them makes him feel safe, the same as I'll keep you safe."

That was right, concentrate on the fox.

Emerick laughed, when I puffed out my chest and fell back on my ass amongst the pears.

I needed to leave the flirting to Bask, especially when I was in animal form.

When Emerick pushed open the door to the cottage, I glanced around at the shadowy kitchen. The room was plain, but it was also neat and well-cleaned. I knew what it was like to live a simple life because you were a son of witches.

When I shuddered, Emerick hushed me. He dropped the basket onto his oak kitchen table, before scooping me out and holding me against the hardness of his muscled chest. I sighed, snuggling against his warmth.

This type of holding I could put up with. He reminded me of Magenta because he smelled of the woods, mixed in with leather. I sniffed him again. Then I stiffened.

Magenta and the other Immortals would still be waiting on the edge of the trees. They didn't know that I was safe and being snuggled, rather than savaged.

Magenta...

At once, her pink magic curled from the floor like roots. My eyes widened, as it stroked over me. Had she sensed my call? Could she feel me?

Emerick peered down. "Are you okay, fox? I'd better check you over then."

When he tried to drop me onto the table, I swallowed. I knew where vets stuck their fingers.

I mean, at least buy me a drink first.

I snarled, fastening my teeth into his shirt. Surprised, he met my gaze in a staring contest.

Never take on a fox in a staring contest, when his ass was literally on the line.

Emerick sighed. "I guess we can do it your way." He slid onto the seat, still curling me to his chest. Then he eased his hand over me, testing for non-existent hurts. I stilled at the sensation of his fingers brushing through my sensitive hair and then down my tail to its tip. "This is the only shirt I have. I'd rather not explain to mum why it has teethmarks in it, especially since I'm the House of Crow's prize virgin."

I hurriedly let go of his shirt, which was damp with saliva and neat teethmarks. He grimaced. I understood because if I hadn't turned out to be a mage, then I'd have been the prized jewel in my own House. Mum had been giddy about the idea of my own marriage furthering her coven's status.

Emerick was beautiful. It was obvious why Damelza had adopted him.

Emerick smiled. "You pass the exam but you’re a long way from the Arctic. I guess you escaped from someone’s illegal zoo collection. Are you hungry?" He held up a pear, and I nibbled at it. Then he stood up, strolling to a kettle and one-handedly fixing himself a cup of coffee like it was something that he did every day. If he made a habit of bringing in every stray animal, then perhaps it was. "Just sleep awhile. When it's dark, I'll take you to the boundary and free you. I won’t hand you over to be put back into a cage. Next time, stay away from the strange cursed grounds, okay?"

I nodded, wearily.

It'd been a long day, which had included being tied to a chair, hexed, and hunted.

It wouldn't hurt to close my eyes just for a little bit, right? Especially when it was so comfortable and warm held in Emerick's arms but with Magenta's magic still stroking me in waves.

Bang, bang, bang.

All of a sudden, I was startled awake.

Mage's balls on a stick, what was that? Were we under attack? Had the ice sculptures come alive to take revenge on their creators?

I leaped to my feet. Why was I on a cold table? What’d happened to the warm, snuggly chest?

Bang, bang, bang.

Disorientated after my sleep, I glanced out of the window. It'd become dark.

Night-time already...?

Yet glittering fireworks that exploded into the golden wings of a fae illuminated the sky.

Snow had caught Lysander.

Wow, Lysander had survived this long in the wood. I winced with guilt. I'd never have been able to beat him without Snow's help.

Then it hit me.

I'd won the Hunt. The Immortals had won the Rebel Cup. And I'd won my own life.

Thank Pan...

I danced in a circle with wild gekkering, fluffing up my tail in triumph, only to stumble over my paws. Emerick sat in the shadows of the kitchen like a true giant, watching my victory dance. His expression was as frosty as his ice sculptures.

Uh oh...

I eyed the door. Could I make a break for it?

"I guess that you should get back to pretending that you're in the Hunt now, Fox." He leaned forward, and his expression was unreadable. Would he tell Damelza? "Do you think that as the Principal's son, there's much goes on that I don't know about?"

I shook my head.

"So," he raised his eyebrow, "you just think that I'm a fool?"

Well, that was trick question. Should I transform? But I had to get back to the Hunt. I lowered my ears and whined, flashing him the best cute expression that I could.

Emerick sighed. "Snow told me about you. We're not that different. You must get what it's like for me in a way that the others can't. You don't need to play tricks or lie to gain that help. I know I'm not a mage, but we should look out for each other. You're safe with me. Go on then."

I was going to live...

I bounded off the table, diving for the door.

Almost free...

Emerick's expression hardened, as he called after me, "But if you ever trick Willoughby or lie to him, then I'll wreck you. If you mess with my friend, I'll bring down the power of my family on your tail."

I froze.

I wouldn't be executed over the Rebel Cup, but tonight the Immortals had already challenged the Princes to the Stop Game.

Our entire plan was to trick and mess with Willoughby. My heart clenched. I'd hoped that Emerick would become a new mate, but in order to break free of the academy, we'd create an enemy who'd sworn to wreck me.