Rebel Academy: Crush

Chapter Eighteen SLEIPNIR

One thing that the son of Loki didn't do well in the face of danger was relax. On Tyr's ass, this hour of Compulsory Relaxation with the princes was going to suck.

Jormungand, my brother, was always better at indolence and napping. Fenrir burned with hot-tempered protectiveness. It didn't matter that they both lived inside me because right now, I was myself.

Plus, I feared for my lovers, despite Fenrir's howled excitement for the wild risk of the mission.

The thrill vibrated beneath my skin, but I held it inside because I also ached with grief. I missed Hector. I hadn't loved him in the same way as Bask because I kind of didn't think that I honestly could feel like he did.

Omens and runes, I swear that Bask laid his heart on a silver platter for every monster to devour.

Including me.

Now for the first time I did love, however, and I was terrified that death would claim the other Immortals on this mission.

Yet if it did, I'd break through the veils and resurrect them. After all, my magic had already worked once on Magenta. I wouldn't lose any of them.

Wasn't that love?

Relaxing with the Princes, who'd won the right to send us on this mission in a dickish game of magical Russian Roulette that’d poisoned Bask, wasn't my style.

It was time for Lysander to taste his own medicine. I'd create my own chaos moment.

I slipped off my blazer, tossing it over the back of the suede sofa in the Rebel Cafe. Then I slowly rolled up my shirt sleeves over my muscled forearms.

Hey, I took what intimidation tactics I could get.

Except, the way that Magenta's pupils dilated and she scooted closer to me on the sofa, until our thighs were touching (which sent sparks shooting directly to my hardening dick), looked less like intimidation and more like desire.

Huh, I'd have to remember that trick.

Ian Brown's ghostly "Corpses in Their Mouths" boomed from the walls with its thudding beat and seductive harmonica, which only made my dick harden further. Had Serenity, who'd been magically created to run the café, become confused and fixed the settings to Screw rather than Relax?

Please don't let this be her hint that she wanted to play voyeur at an orgy.

What had I ever done to deserve this AI's crush? On fear of Valkyries, don't answer that.

Fox leaned against the sofa, and Midnight curled his beautiful ash wings around him. Of course, Midnight was naked. Did the princes ever allow their whipping boy to wear clothes?

Could I help it if I admired the view?

Willoughby sprawled on the floor, which’d softened to carpet, with Bask on his lap. Willoughby’s arms were tightly looped around Bask’s waist like he was scared that he'd be snatched away from him. Ever since their moment beside the lake, the elf hadn't wanted to stop touching my incubus.

Lysander paced from one side of the room to the other like a pink and black caged tiger. He cast confused glances at Willoughby and then Midnight. He’d blink, before glancing disbelievingly at the way that his Prince and whipping boy were cuddling Immortals.

I smothered my laugh against Magenta's shoulder, before glancing up into her dancing eyes.

The Membership was breaking down, so it was time to break a fae prince.

I brushed my lips against Magenta's ear, and she shivered. "How about we hunt a prince?"

Her gaze became knowing, and she nodded.

By the Norns, she was wickedly smart. Loki would approve.

All of a sudden, the walls swirled with pictures of giant puppies.

"Odin's cock..." I recoiled because it was like being drowned in cuteness. "Serenity, this isn't relaxing."

"You mean that you're stressed, godling," Serenity's Welsh voice crooned from the walls. "It’s been proved that dogs calm people."

I clenched my jaw. "I'm not calm right now."

"That's right: admit to your emotions!" Serenity said, brightly. “How about a good cry!”

"No dogs,” I growled.

Bask pouted, "Don't take away the puppies."

Willoughby stroked Bask’s hair in consolation. He already had his own pet.

Fox pointed at Bask. "How can you say no to that face?"

I narrowed my eyes. “Practice.”

The puppies vanished from the walls, which softened to indigo, and Bask whined.

"Stroke my pussy!" Serenity chirped.

"I beg your pardon?" Magenta spluttered.

"I meant, stroke a pussy. As long as you're not allergic to cat hair, mind." Serenity's voice became sly. "Why don't you use your own pussy?"

"How personal." Magenta crossed her arms. "Use your own. Oh yes, you don't have one."

Ouch.

The lights dimmed, and Midnight tightened his wings around Fox.

Could a Stress Counselor go postal on her students' asses?

Fox glanced around with an adorable attempt to look stern. "As the actual cat, I veto all talk of playing with pussies."

When Midnight chuckled, Fox silenced him with a kiss.

Lysander's lips pinched like he might be the one to go postal instead.

Time to kick off the chaos moment.

I cracked my knuckles, and Lysander winced. Now that was stress relief.

"How about we play a game?" I said as casually as I could. "Princes against Immortals, and not a pussy or puppy in sight, I promise."

Magenta clasped my arm; her glove was cool against my warm skin. "What fun!"

"Your concept of fun has so far not tallied with my own," Lysander said, dryly.

"How do you know?" Magenta arched her brow. "You've never truly had fun with me, or you'd be begging for more."

Lysander stopped pacing and flushed. "A prince does not beg."

What was the bet that Willoughby had begged last night...?

I tilted my head. "Do you want that asshole guardian of yours to be proud of you on Saturday?"

Lysander shot me a wary glance. "Obviously." He hugged his arms around himself. Did he even know that he was doing it? "But he won't because the Princes lost the Rebel Cup. How can I show him that I'm reformed, if I don't even have the honor of starting the Dragon Polo Tournament? If I don't achieve well in the academy, then I shan't return to my own kingdom. If I never rule, then I can never overthrow the archaic and cruel rules and save my people." His lips twisted into a sneer. "Sorry, was that nobler than you were expecting from an Unseelie Fae?"

Honestly, yeah...

I steadily met his gaze. "I was only looking for a yes or no."

Lysander launched himself towards me, but Willoughby tumbled Bask off his knee, as he leaped up to block him. To my shock, Willoughby gently rested his hands on Lysander's shoulders.

"That's right, massage out the tension," Serenity encouraged. "Really work those shoulders, chest, wings, tight ass, dick and balls..."

Lysander jumped away from Willoughby with a snarl.

Hunting princes was fun.

"I'm sorry that I've made you feel that I don't believe you noble," Magenta said. Lysander's eyes widened, and his breath quickened. He looked like he couldn't decide if he wanted to step closer to Magenta or back away. "If starting the Tournament is so important to you, how about we give you another chance to win it back?"

Lysander ducked his head, and his hands clenched into fists. "What else do you wish to strip from me? What more must one lose?"

"Nothing." Magenta's eyes were soft with sadness.

"Chill out," I eased to the edge of the seat, "just play a game with us. As long as you don't back out, then at the end of this hour, you've won the right to start the Tournament, right?"

Bask and Fox nodded.

Lysander took a single pace forward, ensnared. "What's the catch?"

Magenta sprawled back on the sofa. "No catch."

Midnight pushed himself to his knees, dragging Fox with him. His charcoal eyes shone, and his fangs glinted, as he smiled.

"On blood and bones, it'll be a fine thing to play. I haven't in ever so long." Midnight's wings quivered with joy. It was epic that it wasn't with fear for once. His glance at Lysander was achingly hopeful. "May I, my prince?"

Lysander tilted up his chin. "Why are you talking to me? I grant you one leniency and look where my lack of discipline leads." Midnight's hopefulness died, and his wings wilted. "Silence for the rest of this hour. Of course whipping boys aren't included."

Asshole.

When Fox rose to his feet, his furious magic prickled across my own. The fae had no idea how close he was to Fox’s hedgehog shifter form breaking out, and that’d be embarrassing for all of us, especially if any of the Princes dared to coo. I winced.

Lysander paled, as Fox stalked towards him.

"Our game, our rules,” Fox insisted. “Whipping boys are here to stay, and if you don’t want your far too beautiful to be fair wings pricked, then you’ll call us Master for the next hour.”

“Or what?” Lysander sneered.

“Or ahh, holds wing full of prickles, and wishes that he’d just said Master, as he rolls around in agony.” Fox’s grin even freaked me out.

“He doesn’t have to call us that.” Midnight prowled to his feet, resting his arms around Fox’s neck and grazing his fangs along it; Fox shuddered. The adoring look in his eyes was like Fox was his god. “I don’t want to be anyone’s Master, see.”

“I told you not to speak,” Lysander said, shakily.

To my surprise, Midnight only latched his fangs more firmly onto Fox and glared at Lysander in a way that was dangerous.

“Just once,” Fox carefully pulled Midnight away from his neck with a shiver. “A single Master, grovel, or bow…?”

Lysander stormed past Fox, throwing himself down in front of the couch. “Fine, my noble self is here and ready to start this ludicrous game of yours.”

When Magenta patted him on the head, I barked with laughter. “Now there’s the spirit! I’m certain that the importance of enthusiasm is in one of the Principal’s Mottos. Although, when I was a girl, we played charades and croquet, rather than—”

“Dirty Truth or Dare.” I smirked.

Hector had taught me this game last term, and seriously, it'd been a dangerous game to attempt with someone as wild as him and an incubus.

Bask's eyes glittered. He crawled sexily to join the circle around the couch, holding out his hand for Willoughby to join him. "My favorite."

Willoughby elegantly settled on his knees, although his expression was shuttered.

"Do you not know what Professor Crow does to us if we're not immaculate?" Lysander stroked down his blazer, straightening it. "Her hexes are...unpleasant. One shall certainly not be dirtying this uniform."

I winked at him. "I wasn't talking about that type of dirty, prince."

When Lysander bristled, I grinned. I'd developed the skill of making titles sound like insults. It was a talent.

Fox led Midnight by the hand to kneel down with him, completing the circle. "Like a dare to change your Facebook status to I'm coming...I'm coming...just come."

Magenta scrunched up her nose. "Why would you put your face in a book or is it a picture book of faces, in which case what has it to do with wanking...?"

"Since there's no Wi-Fi here," Fox sighed, unhappily, "you'll never find out."

"Oh, there's that Wu-Fu thingy in the Prince's bedroom.”

On the World Tree, I'd never seen someone's jaw fall open in the way that Fox's did. Then Fox stabbed his finger at Lysander like it was a blade. "The larder of treats and silk uniforms I can live with, but your private access to computers...? That's one entitled privilege too far."

"One is deeply apologetic," Lysander said with dripping sarcasm.

Odin’s cock, I hoped that it’d choke him.

"Must it be dirty?" Willoughby asked.

Magenta arched her brow. "Certainly not. It's your choice."

Willoughby nodded.

The Princes could never turn down a contest. They were walking straight into a trap, which would reveal their secrets and fears. Yet they were willing participants.

Loki had trained me to be a formidable hunter.

"We take it in turns to ask either a Truth or Dare,” I explained. “You can refuse to answer the Truth but then you have to take a Dare. If you don't, then you lose the whole game and remember, the stakes are the honor to start the Dragon Polo Tournament.”

"I understand," Lysander forced out.

Yet his hands twitched on his knees, almost like he was eager to begin. His gaze was fixed intently on Magenta.

"Hey, Serenity," I called, "how about you pick who plays at random. So, no cheating. Pink for the name of the player who sets the Truth or Dare. Black for the player who has to take on the challenge."

"Do I have to point out that every one of your heartbeats are elevated?" Serenity chided. "How about taking off your clothes and taking a long, hot, soapy shower together, instead? Or a cold one...that'll reduce the tension in this room."

"Just play the game and don't pick my name every time."

Silence.

"Serenity..."

"Carry on you, of course not."

"I'm serious."

"Fine."

"Serious as Ragnarok."

"Meanie," Serenity sulked.

LYSANDER blazed across the walls in neon pink.

Lysander perked up. "Perhaps, I shall grow to like this game."

Then SEIPNIR flashed in black.

“Perhaps, I won’t,” I muttered.

"I didn't pick you first..." Serenity said, slyly.

Lysander was studying me like he couldn't decide if I was the best gift that he'd ever received or a bug for him to dissect.

Then his expression hardened, as his gaze flicked to Magenta. "Truth: What's something that you're afraid to tell Magenta?"

My mind blanked.

So, that's how the hunter became the hunted.

My pulse thundered in my ears. My mind was overloaded with one word: monster, monster, monster...

I opened my lips to say it, but nothing came out.

When had I started shaking?

Suddenly, cool fingers closed around mine, squeezing.

"He'll take the Dare." Magenta's voice was tight.

I nodded.

I raised my gaze to meet Lysander's, straightening my shoulders. I wouldn't let him know how he'd wrecked me. Still, I'd wanted secrets revealed.

Karma loved to kick me in the ass.

Lysander's eyes were wide, and he studied how my hand was linked with Magenta's, as he swallowed. "If I played the game wrong..." He whispered.

"I believe that you picked just the right way to play it," Magenta replied, sharply.

Lysander's wings beat, agitatedly. "As you're too coward to answer, I get to set a Dare, which should be dirty. One doesn't wish to disappoint." His eyes gleamed with malevolence. "Dirty talk to your hand."

Asshole.

Yet Bask wriggled sexily, blowing a kiss across the circle to a startled Lysander. "Slippy's dirty talk is a fine thing. I'm claiming you as an honorary incubus."

Lysander blanched. Now that was how to insult a fae prince.

Did he think that it'd be humiliating (or even a challenge), for the son of Loki to use his talented tongue for...anything?

I grinned. This would be fun.

I pulled my hand away from Magenta's, holding it up in front of me and catching Lysander's gaze. I forced him not to look away, as I pinched my thumb and finger together to create a hole.

If he wanted me to dirty talk to my hand, then I'd also make love to it, and at the same time, him.

"You'll forget your name, after I'm done screwing you," I growled, low and seductive. Lysander shivered, curling his arms around himself. "I'm going to ruin your hole." I slowly extended the finger on my opposite hand, moving it towards the hole like it was my prick. After all, he'd wanted dirty. I edged my finger in, catching it around the rim. "Valhalla! You're so tight. That's it, clench...work for it." Lysander's eyes were glassy and blown wide. I pushed my finger in and out, in and out. "I love it when you ride me like this. You were made to take my dick. Tell me how much you love feeling me pulse inside you." Lysander gasped. It was my dare, but he was imagining it. He was right there, caught in the fantasy. "Beg me to come." My own breathing was ragged; my balls ached. I was caught with him. "You look so sexy. I want you to come for me now, hard."

When I pulled my finger out, Lysander groaned, and so did Fox and Bask.

Magenta snatched me by the shoulders, twisting me to kiss her with a passion that was flustered, messy, and perfect. I sucked on her lip, and she bit mine back.

Then we both laughed. Her breath gusted across my mouth.

"Well, that was educational." Magenta licked across my lips like she needed to taste me. "Remind me to request that service in bed."

"Yeah, same here." Fox waved his hand, eagerly. "But no ruining my hole because I can't simply order a new one. I shudder at how that request would go down with Bacchus."

I chuckled.

Lysander ducked his head, flushed. He stared at the carpet, avoiding my gaze and picking at a fraying thread.

BASK flashed in pink across the walls, followed by WILLOUGHBY in black.

Willoughby stiffened.

There was so little time left to discover the truth about the Princes, but this game offered us the chance to reveal their secrets and our own.

Let the hunt of the Princes begin…