Rebel Academy: Curse

Chapter Nine SLEIPNIR

I marched towards the huge dragon stables. Their barred stalls were like prison cells. On the runes, Marcus' brothers were students just like us. The only difference was that they were treated like the monster I felt inside.

I reached for my pocket and the reassuring feel of Mist curling around my fingers, only to remember that I’d left him behind on my bed. He’d pawed the sheets, snorting flames in protest. But I’d be flying high above the academy tonight, and Lysander played dirty. Dragon Polo was dangerous, especially when your opposing team were Princes. Mist would have to suck it up: I’d protect him, at least.

Snowflakes twirled from the night-time sky like they were dancing to a silent song that played only for them. The stars were lost beneath the shrouds of clouds; the moon struggled to shine on Rebel Academy.

I slipped on slushy snow, cussing.

Magenta's curse was melting along with the wards. But not fast enough to keep Fox safe.

Valhalla! Melt faster, faster, faster...

I growled, shaking my hair to transform it to cinnamon red. Then I broke into a sprint, stumbling on the ice but not caring.

Faster, faster, faster.

My heart thud — thud — thudded, until my chest ached.

Fast, faster, faster.

My pulse thrashed in my ears.

Faster, faster, faster.

My breaths were ragged and shallow, gusting out ghostly in the cold. I skidded around the corner of the stalls. My lungs burned.

Fox had asked us to breathe for him. If I only kept dragging oxygen into lungs would that mean he'd live?

Fates, hear me, I offer up my breath for my lover...

I slammed my palm against the side of the stables. The bright pain focused me.

Why was love such agony?

Yet I knew that whatever happened tonight, I'd never wish away this wicked love, which made me give up my Soul for another. It burned more brightly than anything in my centuries of life.

It was as beautiful as a chaos moment, and I desired it just as greatly.

I straightened my shoulders. I wouldn't fail my lovers or this...thing...that I found so hard to voice.

Did Magenta and Bask know that I felt it for them?

Did Fox?

When I glanced around, the yard was empty.

Perfect: no Professor Ambrose.

I prowled into the yard, scrunching my nose against the stinging smoke. I pulled my woolen coat more closely around myself against the cold. Then I narrowed my eyes at the rows of gleaming bridles, saddles, and spurs. I refused to use those torture devices on another shifter, but the asshole princes never missed an opportunity to dominate.

Well, today I had a secret that had nothing to do with conquering but everything to do with cooperation. Lysander would wish that he hadn't been such a fae jerk to Marcus. This was why I'd slipped out early before the tournament to secretly chat to Rayn.

I sauntered to a barred stall. "Hey, Rayn, petting time." Golden eyes peered back at me from the darkness. "Look, I know I'm not epic at petting like Bask but give me a chance. Bask says that my massages are a godly talent."

I held out my hand encouragingly.

Rayn snorted like laughter. Then he shifted closer to the front of the stall with an awkward shuffle of his bat-like yellow wings. I clenched my jaw; it must hurt him to be cramped in the small space. Ethereal magic fluttered around him. He pushed his golden head against my hand and then like he'd noticed my injured palm, he nuzzled against it in a dragon's kiss.

Yeah, he was seriously a dangerous beast who deserved to be collared.

"It was my own dickish fault." I wiggled my fingers. "I get kind of stressed and then... well you know how brothers are, right?" Rayn blinked in understanding. "You need and love them, Bor’s balls, they're your world. You're nothing without them, but no one fights with you in the same way. Yet if it wasn't for them, you wouldn’t be whole." I sighed, and Rayn considered me. "Was I an asshole to break your brother's collar if I couldn't free every one of you? Was it selfish of me to play the hero, when all I did was separate you?"

I was shocked by the sudden burst of magic, which wrapped around me, yanking me into the stall door.

Rayn wildly shook his head.

"Hey, calm down," I soothed like he was a skittish stallion. "By the Valkyries, I get it. If someone had my dad and me locked up, and offered to free only my dad, then I wouldn’t hesitate to take that deal. You don't want Marcus trapped again, right?"

Flames flickered from Rayn in relief.

"Marcus is lucky. You're a good brother. Loyal." Not like his asshole cousin, Lash, I didn't say. Marcus needed his other brothers back with him in Court, however, before his entire kingdom burned in civil war. "Damelza is determined to tame us Rebels like she's collared you. The families watching the tournament today are here to see that the students are broken, which makes them more dangerous than the witches." I stroked Rayn and realized that we were comforting each other. I licked the snowflakes off my lips, before lowering my voice. "Yellow orchid."

Rayn reared back. His gaze was suddenly sharp. I hoped that this wasn't the point I became a barbecued god.

"Marcus told us that you'd fly willingly for us. Look, we have a plan to free everybody but we must win tonight. You don't want us to ride you and honestly, we don't want to ride you either. But if we don't, everything's screwed."

Rayn's eyes sparkled with a moment of clear understanding, before nuzzling against my hand in agreement.

My breath hitched in relief, and I patted his snout in thanks. "You won't be alone. I'm a shifter too. Seriously, I'd never ask you to do something that I didn't have the courage to do myself. Trolls tits, Dad would be ashamed of me if I didn't treat you as an equal and show the witches and parents up as prejudiced dicks." My lips curled into a smile. "Let's call this my Shifter Protest."

I didn't add that it'd wreck me to expose my monster to an audience. If it saved my lovers, however, then I'd break myself.

All of a sudden, I jumped at Disney’s sweeping, yearning "When You Wish Upon a Star", which played above my head.

Was my magical wish being granted? Was this a sign? Was...Ambrose's Disney obsessed son Ty opening his window above the stable and waving to me shyly from behind his drapes?

I couldn't help the barked laugh. Well screw me to Ragnarok, I must be desperate for a miracle.

I was the one who'd make my own magic.

I stepped into the middle of the yard, waving back at Ty. He was a fae boy with jade eyes and golden hair that curled behind his ears. He wore a plain coat and leggings that looked simply another type of uniform. Unlike other fae, however, he didn't have wings. Was that why he'd been imprisoned here with Ambrose? He was as much a prisoner as the dragons. Ambrose was punished, if the witches discovered that Ty had been seen.

Why would a child have to be hidden? But then, Fox had been shut away in an attic simply because he was a mage.

No wonder the kid was desperate for company.

Delighted, Ty bit his lip, edging closer on the window sill. My eyes widened.

"Woah, short stuff, let's not have you taking another tumble. Your dad can be one scary..." I caught the asshole, quickly changing it, "...professor. I'm not up for a spanking right now."

Ty gasped. "Nay, da doesn't spank. He says that hurting others is bad."

Yeah, tell that to the whip Ambrose cracked at students like he was a Rebel tamer.

I forced myself to smile. "My bad."

"Witches hurt. It's confusing." When Ty shrugged like it was a simple fact of life, I clenched my hands into fists. I'd spent my life running from witches. Witches who hurt. "I'll tell him you're my friend." All of a sudden, he looked vulnerable and painfully hopeful. "Will you be my friend? The elf said he'd be my best friend. I've never had one before."

It was snow wetting my cheeks. Definitely only snow.

"Well, if you have a Prince as your pal," I smirked, "you'd better have an Immortal as well. Friends, right?"

Ty bounced up and down like he'd forgotten that he was sitting in an open window, and I reached my arms out in case he fell.

Thor’s balls, Ambrose was going to kill me...

Ty looked thoughtful. "I hope da doesn't sit you on the naughty step. That's horrid."

"I'd like to see him try."

Ty appeared doubtful. "Da's strong."

"But does he have werewolves inside him?" My wolf tattoo stalked out of my coat cuff, glistening and alive. Ever the showman, Fenrir twirled and chased his tail down the back of my hand, as I held it up for Ty to see his antics.

Ty’s eyes widened, and he giggled. “You have a wolf as well as a snake! Can we show da? Please!”

“I can already see it, Ty, now get inside,” Ambrose’s Scottish voice, which vibrated with dominance and fury, hissed from the stable’s shadows.

I startled, twisting to face him.

Ambrose was even more beautiful when he was angry, and I wished that my traitorous dick could remember that he was the Seelie prince who trained the dragons and called them beasts.

Yet he’d also once been a Rebel just like me, and had fought for his survival…and his son’s.

Could I blame him for wanting to keep his son safe?

Wouldn’t Loki do the same for me? Hadn’t he?

Ambrose was delicate with golden hair and emerald eyes that were dark against his alabaster skin. His steampunk uniform didn’t shield him against the cold because Seelie weren’t meant to live in wintry cursed grounds; shivers wracked him. He wrapped his golden wings around himself.

Ty’s eyes gleamed with tears. “D-don’t put my f-friend on the n-naughty step,” he burst out.

Ambrose arched his brow at me. “Naughty step, boy?”

“Friend,” I replied, smugly.

Ambrose took a shuddering breath like the thought of that had affected him as much as it had Ty. “Inside, Ty, and close the window. Why don’t you go and draw your new friend?”

Ty glanced uncertainly between us but nodded. He softly closed the window, cutting off the music…and leaving me with his pissed off fae dad.

Ambrose studied me for a long moment in silence, before his hand dropped to the leather whip at his belt. “You’re early, boy, again.”

His hand tightened on the whip.

“What can I say, I’m a motivated student, Prince Ambrose.”

Ambrose’s wings burst out in a display of rage that drove the breath from my lungs. “I’m your professor, you bastard,” he howled. Ambrose dived on me, shoving me into a snowbank. I let out a shocked oomph. He wrapped his wings around me, as we tumbled round and round. I spluttered, as he rammed my head into the snow. "Professor," he snarled, pushing my face into the snow on each word, "professor, professor, professor. Say it, you rascal."

I spat out a mouthful of slushy snow. Yuck.

Ambrose panted, and his shoulders shook. He threw me onto my back, squeezing me between his thighs.

Huh, did he ride the dragons himself to develop muscles like that?

Right, now wasn't the time for those kind of thoughts.

He was so close that his nose was almost touching mine, as he waited expectantly.

"Prince," I hissed.

Ambrose reared back like I'd struck him. Then he reached for his whip, pulling it out.

I flinched. So much for believing that hurting others was bad. At least it wasn't the naughty step.

I clenched my jaw, staring defiantly at Ambrose, whose expression was carefully blank. He swung the whip behind his shoulder, and I stiffened, preparing for the searing pain.

Crack.

I jumped, as the whip cracked into the snow next to my head.

I blinked at Ambrose in confusion. He hunched his shoulders, and his hand flexed around the whip's hilt so hard that his knuckles became white. Then he howled, as he hurled the whip across the yard into the darkness.

What in the name of the Valkyries had I done? Had I wrecked him?

Guilt clenched my guts because unlike my lovers, I couldn't even reach out to comfort Ambrose.

He was a professor.

I'd never seen Ambrose without his dragon trainer whip before. It was kind of weird how much younger he looked.

Ambrose threw himself down on his back next to me; he stared up at the night sky. Snowflakes caught on his eyelashes.

"You know, all your bluster doesn't hide your pain," I ventured.

"Are you mocking me?" A blush spread across Ambrose's translucent cheeks.

Were all fae beautiful?

"I guess that happens to you a lot in the academy, huh?” I replied.

Ambrose's blush deepened. The other professors were dicks but then, I had been too. "I respect that you've survived this long here, and if it means so much to you to be seen as a professor—"

"I don't give two feathers for my title." Ambrose turned his head to face me. "But it's all that's kept Ty alive and..." He took a deep breath, steadying himself. "Are you trying to punish me because of Marcus and the dragons? Do you wish to see my son taken away from me?"

My eyes widened. “Valhalla! Never.”

I snatched Ambrose’s hand, squeezing his fingers between mine, without thinking. "I give my oath on the World Tree, I'd never separate a dad from his kid, especially as he adores you, and you...protect him. I know a good dad when I see one."

Ambrose swallowed, and his eyes gleamed like he was holding back tears. "Nay, I'm a bastard. But I'm all Ty has." He didn't take his hand from mine, instead he quivered as I tightened my hold. He was touch starved. "Our kind patron and VIP guests are now in the castle, and you'd tempt my son to break the rules. I know you hate me but..."

"I don't." It was weird how that was true. "I just hate how you treat the dragons. Plus, Ty opened his window and waved to me first..."

Awesome, now I was the tell-tale. Had I just earned Ty the naughty step?

To my surprise, Ambrose snorted with laughter. "Aye, that sounds like the rascal. He hasn't stopped talking about the elf and you. He's lonely." When his gaze met mine, it was anguished. "What do you want from us?"

To help me save my lovers...

Yet what I found tumbling out of my mouth was, "To help you."

What would Magenta say about my desire to save a fae prince? First Lysander and now Ambrose...

It was okay though because I had enough fae hate left to direct at Titus.

Ambrose stared at me with wide emerald eyes. "Right, like you mean that. No one wants to help me."

"I guess Ty isn't the only one who's lonely. I want to, right?"

Ambrose snatched his hand away from mine and then looked like he regretted it. He wrapped his wings around himself.

"You shouldn't," he whispered. "Ty's the innocent. I’ve only fought so hard to survive for his sake. I'm bad, deposed, and disowned." He smacked his hand against his thigh with a crisp smack, and I winced. "The other families out there are bastards, but everyone at my Court turned their backs on me. I haven't seen my ma and da since..."

When he pushed himself up, wiping the snow off his uniform briskly, I sought out his gaze, but his head was ducked.

"Why?" I asked.

Ambrose froze, and he glanced at Ty's window. His expression softened. Did Loki look like that when he thought of me? Loki had always said that becoming a dad had been the making of him. Was it the same for Ambrose even if he didn't know it?

"If you use this against me...spread this to the other students..." Ambrose pinned me with his dark gaze.

I stood, straightening my shoulders. "Hey, I'm not a jerk Prince."

Ambrose's lips quirked. "You swagger around just like one...the same as I once did. But then, I fell in love with a non-magical, Emily." When he paled and the smile fell from his lips, I missed it as much as I hated the haunted look in his eyes. "It's forbidden to love humans, but I was arrogant, young, and blinded by love. I married her in secret, but when she became pregnant, honor as royal heir dictated that I present her to my ma and da in order to make my heir legitimate."

"Ty," I breathed.

That was why he didn’t have wings: he was half-human.

"I was a daft brat." Ambrose’s hands balled into fists. "Right, like honor or my throne mattered when the woman who I loved with my own son growing inside her was safe…?"

When had I stopped breathing? Odin's cock, please don't let him say it...

"They took Emily from me. Locked us both up separately." His eyes were glassy like he was lost in the past, separated from his pregnant wife. "My parents didn't even visit me because I was disowned. Every day, I begged for news of Emily's pregnancy but the first I knew of the birth was when a guard placed a wailing baby in my arms. My Ty."

My guts churned. "And Emily?"

For a long moment, I didn't think that Ambrose would reply.

Then his eyes became bleak in a way that I never wanted to see again. "The bad bastards executed her. I didn't even get to see her before..." He held out his hand to me warily like he expected me to slap it away. Perhaps, I would've done before. Now, I gripped it because he'd been brave enough to share this with me. "They sent Ty and me here. This prison is all Ty knows, and the only real friend he has is Emerick, the Principal's adopted son. Ty didn't know his ma, and I've failed him as a da but I've kept him safe, even if it's meant..."

"Training the dragons...?" My eyes widened.

Ambrose nodded. "What would you do for your son?"

"Everything."

Ambrose gave an approving smile. "So, how can I make sure your daft behind wins this tournament?" When I gaped at him, he rolled his eyes. "I know the stakes. Professors gossip too, and Ezekiel's just like me. He's always been kind." By the way that he flushed, I thought that it was kind with his dick. "But the Princes are champions. They've been taught how to ride since they were young. Lysander's an Unseelie arse, but he's outstanding at Dragon Polo, and he's been playing for a decade."

"Let Bask ride Rayn," I urged.

Ambrose cocked his head. "Lysander will make a fuss since that's his dragon."

I smirked. "Ouch, you're breaking my heart."

Ambrose shared a smile with me, which made my pulse beat faster. "Deal. Now good luck and be off with you, boy. It’s time for me to free the dragons, greet our patron, and for the Dragon Polo Tournament to begin.”

Tonight, the chaos moment gleamed bright. If us Immortals won, my lovers were saved, but if we lost, none of us would be freed.

I’d been desperate for everything to move faster, but now the tournament was here, I wished that time hadn’t run out.