Rebel Academy: Curse

Chapter Four SLEIPNIR

On Odin's cock, I'd been certain that breaking Marcus' collar and then allowing Fox to see the beauty of a free shifter had been the chaos moment.

As the son of Loki, coiling fragments of time caught my attention like light glinting off broken glass, and I'd seized that blindingly light fragment, knowing that it was for me alone.

It was the chaos moment.

Yet had I been wrong? Had I screwed-up instead because now I'd been caged, and the guy who I...

Valhalla! Why was it so hard to admit that I loved Fox?

Except, my kind of love would stain him. But I needed him the same as I needed Bask and Magenta. We were connected across death and veils by blood and purest pleasure. Trust me, there was no stronger magic than that which resurrects and calls across time.

An asshole archduke, however, clutched Fox like a pet, while I couldn't protect him because I was trapped in the dragons' dungeons.

How many hours had it been now?

My stomach rumbled, and I grimaced. Struggling to swallow, I licked at my dry lips.

Ten hours? Twelve?

If it was the early hours of Saturday, then it was half way through our mission, half way towards our failure, and half way towards Fox’s death.

This was my fault and responsibility. My dad, Loki, had taught me many things — how to hunt, swim, and lie under pressure of hexing (in typical dad-son bonding) — but also when to accept that I'd messed up.

In that case, why did the light still blind me like I'd seized a true moment of chaos?

My pulse thundered in my ears, and I rested my sweating forehead against the wall. Even though the tiny cell was like a furnace, the glowing golden walls were shockingly cold. The jerks probably didn't want the prisoners to fry, before they dragged them out to burn alive or however the sons of witches executed traitors.

I drew in a ragged breath.

The walls were too close...if I could just breathe in this damn heat...too close...

The walls were arched and low like a cave. Magenta, Bask, and I had disappeared in the hold of the Letter Magic like puppets on an invisible thread and reappeared alone in this oven of a cell.

I slammed my fist against the wall. My knuckles cracked, and pain radiated up my arm. I could’ve been bound in Willoughby's cursed silk suit, which crushed his mind, body and Soul because the Letter Magic crushed me in the same way. The pain was dulled, and I barely felt the way that Bask grabbed my arm, examining each finger in turn to check that they still bent or Magenta's questioning, as she slipped her arm around my waist.

The Letter Magic was like a gentle noose, which tightened every hour. I reached out to my two brothers, Fenrir and Jormungand, who'd been pushed deeper inside me than they'd ever been. Panic rose at our separation.

I'd never been alone before.

Fenrir howled, scrabbling at my mind, as Jormungand's glittering coils restlessly wrapped around my insides. They were as caged as me. I ran my uninjured hand through my aquamarine hair. Why had I ever craved to be my only personality?

We were triplets. This separation was death.

I whined.

Once, Loki and I had been camping on the Blue Ridge mountains in Georgia. We'd hunted in the forests and fished in the large lakes. Well, I'd mostly practiced on my guitar, and Loki had done the chores, watching me like every wrong note and chord was a miracle because of the joy the stumbling songs brought me.

On the World Tree, it was because he'd been able to provide me with that happiness, after so much despair.

"Why, look at that, my little stallion has become a musician." Loki had smiled, fondly. "It appears that you can't buy happiness, but a guitar is reasonably priced."

Yet one night, Loki had gone missing in a storm that'd flashed jagged lightning from the black sky and rumbled thunder across the blue haze of the mountains. When he'd dashed back through the treeline, soaked and shaking, he'd snatched me to my feet and dragged me from our camp.

I'd tried to pull away, but his grip had been like steel. "Hey, what about my guitar and...?"

"Leave it." He hadn't even looked around as he'd yanked me after him into a crevice between the rocks. I'd slipped on my belly after him into the muddy cave. "Trust me."

And I had with every breath in me.

Yet I'd just abandoned my guitar and meager belongings to whoever had been hunting us because I'd known the look. On Bor’s beard, I'd had centuries to learn dad's pale and haunted expression when the witch followers of Bacchus had been close.

I’d reached up to my neck, closing my fingers around the silver plectrum that Loki had gifted me. It’d been all I had left, but it’d been enough because Loki had been safe.

"Who is it?" I’d demanded, as the wind had driven the rain in stinging tears across my cheeks.

Loki hadn’t appeared to hear me, staring out at the darkness intently, before pushing his shoulder against a fallen boulder and rolling it across the entrance.

"Dad, wait...stop..." I'd scrabbled at the slippery boulder, which had shut us into the damp, earthy darkness.

He'd buried us alive.

Loki's long fingers had settled over mine. "Would you call down Ragnarok? I'm sorry, but we must remain hidden and quiet. Can you do that for me?"

I'd swallowed and forced myself to nod.

"The leader of the Bacchus Cult herself...that fucking bully," I'd startled at Loki's whispered snarl; he'd never sworn in front of me before, "is leading the hunt tonight. I'm masking our presence with magic, but they've learned many of my tricks by now."

His worry had threaded through mine.

How long would it be before they caught us?

I'd rubbed over the plectrum compulsively. The stench of the cave had overpowered me, and the wind had beat, beat, beat against the rock. When thunder had rolled overhead, I’d jumped.

The black had suffocated me. I'd struggled to draw in breaths.

How many times had we hidden? Why had this felt different?

"You promised not to cage me, but I've always been in one," I'd whispered, fiercely. It'd been kind of easier to say the dark, twisting things inside me, when I'd only had to stare into darkness, rather than into Loki's face. Except, then he'd shifted closer, and I'd been able to see the gleam of his anguished eyes. I'd wished that I’d been able to claw back the words. But it was too late. "You're the one who snatched the chaos moment. This is your fault."

"I know," Loki had answered with a soft sadness. He'd smoothed out the furrow of my frown with the pad of his thumb like he'd always done ever since I'd been tiny. "Look at that, my own words bite me in the ass. I guess that's being a parent." His smile had been crooked and then it’d slipped. "A long time ago, I set the cult's sacrifice free, and ever since, their god has possessed them with a frenzy to hunt me and turn me into a bloody replacement. By the Norns, I'd give myself up in a moment, if it’d keep you safe."

I'd gasped, wrapping my arms around Loki like that'd hold him to me forever.

He couldn't leave me...monstrous...alone...

"Don't go," my voice had wavered, and I’d bitten my lip. "I don't care if I'm in a cage, as long as we're in it together."

Loki's smile had been more genuine this time. "I'll remind you of that the next time that you’re whining about my cooking." Then he'd stroked my hair, cupping the back of my head. "My sacrifice wouldn't help anyway because Bacchus didn’t merely curse me but also my descendants." Then he’d pulled back, and his expression had been fierce. "But remember, it's only a curse if we let it be one. Omens and runes, I swear that I've done everything to give you a life that was blessed, instead. And I won't ever let them take you."

Yet eventually, the witches had caught me and taken me away from Loki.

Where was he now, when I was truly caged again?

I snarled, and my eyes burned. Had the witches caught Loki as well and Professor Bacchus simply didn't know?

Loki had spent his life protecting me. The witches in the academy were keeping me as a hostage to trap him as well. If those assholes thought that I'd ever help them hunt my own dad, then they knew nothing about real love between a parent and child. They’d made a mistake cursing his descendants as well. They’d thought they were punishing him in a way that never ended, but a kid would battle to protect their dad just the same as he did for me.

I'd find a way to continue everything that Loki had taught me.

I'd destroy their asses.

Cool kisses feathered down my neck, drawing me back to myself and the furnace of the cell. Magenta tightened her arm around my waist.

"Well, that certainly showed the mean old wall." Magenta pressed a final kiss to the base of my neck, and my skin tingled. "Although, it fought back admirably. Are we at war with the buildings within this kingdom, as well as the dragon shifters, because with our magic bound, I don't favor our chances?"

"I'm at war with all cages," I growled.

Then I shuddered, as Bask sucked my thumb into the silky softness of his mouth in retaliation. He flicked his tongue along the length of my thumb. I clenched my jaw; I yearned for that talented tongue to lavish its attention somewhere more exciting.

My dick thickened and waved enthusiastically to volunteer its services. Gods’ dicks are courageous like that.

Bask let go of my thumb with a pop.

Please tell me that my dick's services were required...

Instead, Bask licked across to my fingers on my injured hand and delicately sucked on each of them in worship.

My breath caught.

On the World Tree, it was worship.

At last, Bask raised my hand to rest it against his cheek, gazing at me from underneath his eyelashes. "If it pleases you, don't risk your ability to pet me again, Slippy."

I raised my eyebrow. "Wow, I was expecting at least a cursing."

Bask sniffed. "Perhaps, I'm saving it for when we get back."

Odin's cock...

Bask slipped to sit in a graceful slink of incubus on the floor, holding out his hand to Magenta. I missed Magenta’s touch the moment that she clasped it and dropped to join him in a twirl of black velvet.

When Magenta pulled me down to settle on the floor between Bask and her, I rushed to promise, "My hand's your eternal petting slave."

Bask preened. "So, no damaging my property."

That definitely shouldn't have made my balls tighten with desire, should it?

But then, Magenta ducked her head, avoiding my gaze; my chest tightened. "It's my foolish hesitation that has led to this awful situation. On Hecate's tits, why was it so hard to simply cast the charm? How can I ever apologize enough...?"

I hushed her, pulling her onto my lap. When I stroked her hair, she melted against me. The tension flowed out of her.

"It sucks that we're locked up and Fox is...well, whatever's happening to him." I regretted mentioning Fox the moment that Bask stiffened, biting his lip. "But you don't need to say sorry for being good."

Magenta's eyes widened. "You seem to have me confused with some other witch who's snuggled on your lap. I'm Magenta, the Wickedly Charmed witch."

Bask snorted, pulling his knees up and encircling them with his arms. "Not a chance. You're not wicked, see, just because you did one wee wicked thing."

"I cursed an entire academy," Magenta protested.

"Wee." Bask rested his chin on his knees. "I broke but does that make me always broken?"

"You don't say always,"

"Only if you don't." Bask's expression became as stubborn (although, he'd call it resolute), as the time that I'd insisted his plushie, Nile, shouldn’t sleep on our bed.

As if I’d had any chance of winning that one. Nile had slept on the bed amongst the pillows, of course.

"Are we playing the banned words game? Fox should be here because he excels at such amusements." Magenta's voice wavered at Fox, although she tried to hide it. I caressed down her side. "Oh, I have one." To my surprise, she twisted to me. "Monster."

I froze.

How did she understand my hidden pain so well? But I was a monster, right?

Time to play dirty. "Is it my turn? Tea."

I fought not to burst into laughter at Magenta's outraged expression. She gave a shocked breath, as she scrambled to twist in my arms and straddle me.

She pinned me against the wall. I swallowed, and my pulse fluttered in my neck. Okay, being caged by a furious witch made my dick twitch.

There was no way that she couldn't feel the effect that she was having.

Magenta’s expression gentled. "Vetoed. Tea is sacrosanct like your chaos moment."

My breath caught because she understood, even after my dickish mistakes. When she ground her crotch against mine, I moaned.

Bask knelt up, slipping his hand to palm the front of my pants. "Weren't we meant to be distracting you? What do you desire?"

I gazed into the Magenta's anguished, ice-blue eyes. All of a sudden, I knew that I was also distracting them from their fear and worry about Fox. Screwing was a better distraction than smashing my fist into a wall.

I ran my hands along the skirts of Magenta's dress. "This is kind of in the way."

Magenta smirked. "Then I'd suggest that you remove it."

"You can't just — puff — vanish it?"

"Hecate's breath, the most precious things are worth working for. I'm worth it, am I not? Right now, Marcus controls my magic and quite inappropriately, my undergarments."

Screw me with Mjolnir, no one controlled my Magenta's panties...or whatever freakishly large underwear she had on under her skirts.

Bask gasped, although his clever, clever fingers didn't pause in their strokes over my hard dick. "So, that bad bastard is controlling our sexy times and our pants? The Duchess would love that Letter Magic."

He shuddered.

I waggled my eyebrows. "No god will be defeated by mere clothing. Trust me, I have your panties conquered."

I hiked up Magenta's skirts and discovered...more material. She couldn't be wearing three petticoats, could she?

What in Odin's name was all this material?

"How many layers are under here?" I muttered, sticking my head underneath like an explorer in the jungle with a special flower to discover (and I couldn't wait to kiss it). "A guy could get lost."

Bask snickered.

I fumbled for clasps or laces. I'd screwed enough humans before (and I was old enough for that to have been during the Victorian era). But those women had already been naked and waiting for me. I wasn't the maid who undressed them.

But Magenta was different.

How angry would she be if I just ripped them all down? I could pass that off as passion, right?

I sighed. She’d be less turned-on and more howling in wedgied agony if I tried that.

Magenta tugged on my arm, and I reluctantly retreated from the jungle of her underwear.

When Magenta giggled, I scowled. "Hey, I tried. But there was all this lace, frill, and—"

"It appears that the effort turned you into Mr. Fierce." Magenta ran her hand along my hair, which stuck out at all angles, smoothing it down.

I flushed.

"If your mouth is to be cruelly kept from me," Magenta murmured with a glint in her eye, which truly was wicked, "then my mouth shall simply have to come to you."

My eyes widened, as she ducked her head towards my lap. Bask winked at me, sliding his hand into my pants and freeing my dick.

Magenta licked over my dick's head, as if greeting it. Then she licked down its length, looking up at me through the veil of her hair. I groaned at the teasing challenge in her gaze, as her tongue massaged along the length of my dick, and she sucked with hollowed out cheeks.

"Vallhalla!" I cussed, clenching my hands on my thighs to stop myself thrusting into her mouth and spilling humiliatingly fast for a god.

But her mouth was godly.

Bask nibbled along my jawline, before dipping to my neck and sucking to mark me; I shivered. "My mouth is also yours to command. What do you desire?"

I stroked his hair (and he arched like he was the Birman cat about to purr), before tightening my fist around the silky strands and yanking him down towards my aching balls. "Get busy then."

Bask wiggled his ass. "As you wish."

I groaned, as his tongue lapped over my aching balls. Magenta slid her mouth further down my dick, and worked the shaft with her tongue, before darting it out, just as Bask licked up to meet her stretched lips...

My eyelids fluttered shut, and my thighs trembled at the twin sensations.

On the runes, could someone kill you by sucking you off? I must be dying...

My balls tightened, and my toes curled. Flushed, I rested one hand on Bask's head and the other on Magenta's but I forced myself to do no more than touch these incredible Immortals who were winding me closer to my own death by pleasure, no matter how desperate I was to take control and push.

My back bowed, and my neck strained.

Let me come...so close...I can't...I need, need, need...

"Well, I'm not entirely surprised," a gruff, mocking voice wound from the doorway. "I've heard tales about witches, and Loki's a legendary lover. Of course, it could be the influence of the incubus. It amazes me that they allow whores to mix in the academy. But then, perhaps he's the entertainment."

Magenta's mouth snapped closed in shock, and I howled as her teeth grazed my dick. She pulled off my dick, giving it a final apologetic lick.

But she wasn't the one edged so close to orgasm that if Bask so much as sat on my lap, I'd embarrass myself.

Bask pushed my painfully hard dick back into my pants, before shooting me a sympathetic look.

I growled, surging to my feet and twisting to face the dragon shifter in the doorway, which’d melted away. I was an exhibitionist but only with consenting partners and not with guards or whoever the huge dragon shifter was, who was blocking the exit with his hands smartly behind his back.

I tilted my head, scrutinizing him, as he calmly scrutinized me back. I'd guess that he was more a soldier than a guard and one who was used to his orders being obeyed. He was beautiful but giant with bunched muscles and cropped golden hair that matched his eyes. He wore the same orchid uniform as Marcus.

Were they family?

Bask had stiffened at whores.

Magenta clasped her arms around Bask, drawing him to the back of the cell.

I glanced behind the shifter at the corridor. He appeared to be alone.

Could we escape?

My pulse thundered, but I fought to keep my gaze emotionless. "If you're jealous, why don't you come in here and get on your knees. Show me what you've got."

The shifter paled with fury, before striding into the cell.

Got you.

"I'm Lash, the archduke's cousin and recent Regent of the entire Court and kingdom," his voice was clipped and sharp. "Show me proper respect."

"I'll show you," I muttered. "But seriously, does your cousin know that you're in here harassing us?"

Lash smiled, slyly. "Do you think that I'll answer to come soft bastard who allowed himself to be captured, ridden, and tamed by a fae prince? I should send him back with you."

Behind me, Magenta gave a sharp intake of breath.

"What kind of bad bastard would betray their own family?" Bask hissed.

"The kind who ruled this Court and doesn't need some youngster who's had the backbone whipped out of him, crawling home with his wings clipped." Lash's yellow magic coiled around him, along with the rich scent of myrrh. "He's not worthy."

I arched my brow. "And if your magic had been bound, while you'd been collared with the threat of punishment to your brothers if you disobeyed, then the witches would never have tamed you, right?"

Lash swung his arms around to his front, crossing them defensively, and his muscles flexed. "It's like you know me. It's why I have to take the decisions for poor Marcus because he's too weak now. He can't even deal with traitors. But I'm here to help him."

Deal didn't sound good.

I pushed back my sleeves, thrilling with the call to battle. It felt kind of weird to fight without Fenrir howling through me. This time, I had to face the danger by myself without the wildness seizing me.

I still ached to kick Lash in the balls to make him suffer as much as my own blue balls were.

I prowled towards Lash, blocking his view of Magenta and Bask; he didn't get to look at them like he was planning to tear them apart. Honestly, he could just peer over my head because the asshole was tall, but size had nothing to do with bravery.

Ask Mr. Fierce.

Lash chuckled. "You have courage. I thought that they only taught you in the Rebel Academy how to be sneaky bitches."

My lips pinched. "Yeah, that too."

I targeted a roundhouse kick at Lash’s knee (because hey, anything that dropped his height was good by me), but he dodged. When I circled him, he smiled indulgently like we were sparring. I growled, rushing forward and swinging a hook at his jaw, but he caught my hand — my injured hand — in his giant fist and squeezed.

I bellowed, as my knuckles cracked.

Magenta tried to storm towards Lash, but Bask looped his arms around her waist and held her back. How unbalanced would her warrior skills be without her magic?

Plus, this asshole could fight.

But I'd been trained by Loki, the god of mischief and mayhem. Instead of attempting to yank my hand away from him, as he'd been expecting, I leaned closer and headbutted him.

Now it was Lash’s turn to bellow, as he let go of my hand to stagger back and angrily wipe the crimson from his nose.

In the name of Tyr, I called first blood.

I grinned, "You did say that we were sneaky."

Lash snorted, and his eyes darkened. "How about you, darling? Want to dance? I promise that I'll be gentle and not mess up your pretty face...yet."

I snarled. How dare he talk like that to Magenta? He must seriously want a punch in the dick, probably from Magenta.

But then, I glanced around and realized that it was Bask's eyes, which had widened. "If you call him darling again, then you won't be able to stand to dance because I'll have broken your legs."

Lash only steadily met Bask's gaze. "Does he fight all your battles for you, darling?"

The...soon to be unable to stand...asshole...

I surged forward, but Bask gripped my hand, yanking me back.

"Not all of my battles.” Bask slunk closer to Lash, and I stiffened. What in Frigg's name was he doing? The shifter could squash him with one hand. "But here’s the thing of it, how could a wee incubus like me fight a big shifter like you?" When Bask fluttered his eyelashes, I almost rolled my eyes. “Slippy forgets that I'm from the ancient Night Lineage and have my own needs."

When he shot a glance at me over his shoulder, it was nothing but sin and also screamed trust me.

Bask was fed on my pleasure, and his incubus power thrummed through him. His teeth glinted in the light. Lash should be pissing himself. Yet Lash only smiled smugly, as he gripped Bask's head like he meant to crush it.

I bounced on the balls of my feet. How much longer must I hold myself back?

Stop touching him...

"Don't worry, darling, I know what you need, and I’ll give it to you. Why don’t you get on your knees and show me what that pretty mouth of yours can do with a dick as well as balls.”

I shuddered. Don’t you dare…

Bask’s eyes became half-lidded. “Don’t worry, I have some ideas what to do with them.”

Yeah, bite them off.

Bask slid to his knees in one fluid movement, then he knelt up, caressing his hands over Lash’s thighs in sinuous movements, as he arched his back, bearing the long white line of his throat.

It was mesmerizing.

Bask was using his incubus power to enthrall Lash, whose eyes were hazy. I found it scorching hot to witness his power; my skin prickled and pinked.

“W-why aren’t you w-worshiping my c-cock?” Lash slurred.

Did this guy watch a serious amount of bad porn?

“That’s not what you truly need, right?” Bask’s voice was more dangerous than I’d ever heard it, and I shivered with desire. “Bastards like you who conquer, control, and hurt do it because inside, you crave to be the ones on your knees and you fear it.”

Ouch.

Bask stalked to his feet. Then he pressed with a single finger on Lash’s side like he couldn’t bear to touch him any more than that (and hey, I didn’t blame him). Instantly, Lash folded to his knees like a puppet.

Lash swayed, flushed and panting. Bask could’ve murdered him, and he wouldn’t even have blinked.

Bask had always insisted that he wasn’t a warrior, but it was a freaky thought that if an incubus was trained the right way, he’d make the perfect assassin. Was that why the Succubus Court worked so hard to train and condition their harems?

Yet Bask had never tried to control me. Was it weird that I found it a turn-on that he could?

“No one’s in the corridor,” Magenta whispered. “I do believe that we can make our escape.”

Lash hadn’t wanted anyone to know about his visit behind Marcus’ back to the dungeons; what a surprise.

Bask flashed me an aren’t I pettably awesome wiggle of his ass, and I tipped my imaginary hat to him. Then ignoring Lash, we rushed to the doorway and peered out into the narrow corridor. It was empty and glowed golden like the cell.

“So, we find the study with Marcus and Fox and then…” I bit my lip. “Look, Jormungand is usually the one who plans. Let’s just see where this…”

“Impulsive?” Bask offered.

“Reckless?” Magenta added.

“…Better than nothing opportunity takes us. We can’t help Fox, if we’re in that cage.”

For a moment, we clasped hands, then we burst into the corridor, only to tumble backwards as we bowled into Marcus and Fox, who’d just materialized.

I yelped in shock, then I dragged Fox into my arms. His wild raspberry scent was like life. I pulled him closer, tightening my hand in his curls, in case he was snatched away from me again.

I should’ve been protecting him.

Bask ran his hands over Fox, checking him for injuries. Magenta twirled in fury on Marcus, who shrank back.

“You, archduke,” Magenta wagged her finger at Marcus, “are a very bad dragon.” Wow, I was psyched that she’d never scolded me like that. Marcus paled. “Execute us if you must but do not separate us again or allow your kin to abuse us.”

“Wait, can I put in a vote for no executing…?” Fox’s muffled voice called, from where he was burrowed against my shoulder.

Magenta dragged Marcus to the entrance of the cell, and to my surprise, he allowed himself to be led.

What’d happened? Why wasn’t he acting all wrathful leader?

Marcus blinked at Lash, who ducked his head. “Why is my dear cousin on his knees?”

Bask huffed. “Wise up! He’s not your dear anything. I know what it’s like to be broken, see, but that doesn’t mean you can’t build yourself up again. This cruel bastard would’ve betrayed you back into slavery.”

Hurt flitted across Marcus’ expression, before he could hide it. “You lie.”

Fox raised his head from my shoulder. “Sorry but I’m the liar of the pack, and my Power of Confess is blasting that it’s the truth.”

Marcus’ expression crumpled, before he composed himself. “I shall deal with this attack on my authority. But first, I’ll lift the binds of the Letter Magic, and you need to return to your academy prison. I wish more than my wings that I could keep each one of you safely here.”

My arms curled more tightly around Fox, and he melted against me in that delicious way of his. “If you don’t come with us, you may as well be executing Fox.”

“Would you force the cursed collar on me? Tame me like Prince Lysander does?” Marcus straightened his shoulders. “Are you not a shifter yourself?”

My heart ached. “Aren’t you?”

He looked away, clenching his fists. “It’s kind of you to point out my faults. I should’ve risked everything to free my brothers before now, but the responsibilities of a leader are many, and as you’ve learned, I have enemies even within my own Court. But your mage is a clever negotiator, and I’m on your side.”

When Fox peered up at me, I arched a brow. He only smiled.

What did he have planned?

Magenta snorted. “Plans are perfectly fine, but they won’t save my lover.”

Marcus’ expression fell. “How long can a mage survive walled up alive?”

Fox was alive…in my arms…his raspberry scent wrapped around me… On the Valkyries, I wouldn’t let him go…

Magenta’s gaze glittered dangerously. “There are certain phrases that explode my magic, in a way for which I shall not be held responsible. Count yourself lucky that you bound mine with your Letter Magic or you’d be patting magenta sparks out of your burning hair.”

Marcus winced. “My apologies. How long could a mage survive…inside the walls of a castle?”

Magenta’s fists clenched. “I don’t know. Hours, maybe days. But why would it be better to survive longer and die slowly in the dark?”

A tremor ran through Fox, and if I could’ve switched to become the whipping boy to endure this for him, I would’ve done it.

Huh, that had to be love.

Marcus wet his lips, glancing at Fox. What had they been scheming? “Well, when the wards come down, wouldn’t also the magics that run through the academy? Couldn’t he then be rescued?”

“You took all that time persuading my whipping boy to risk his life for you on a guess?” Bask snapped.

When Fox squirmed out of my hold to march to stand next to Marcus, I missed the touch of him like I’d already lost him. “In fact, he took all this time trying to persuade me to collar and drag him back to Rebel Academy.” I stared at him in shock, and then Marcus, whose magic coiled around Fox’s shoulders with a gentleness that was entirely different to Lash’s. It sucked that I couldn’t simply hate him. “Then he showed me his Court. You know, I’ve seen Nero’s Palace and Elvis’ Graceland, but the Gold Court’s even more brilliant. And I can’t…”

Magenta tipped up his chin. “We’re listening, I promise. This is your choice.”

“I can’t take Marcus back as a slave,” Fox said, quietly. “His kingdom needs him. Look, I’ve lived most of my life inside an attic. Pan’s balls, I don’t know who I am, beyond a cat with funk in his Soul but I do know that I’m not selfish enough to risk an entire shifter kingdom burning just to save my own tail.”

“But,” Bask’s eyes gleamed with tears that he didn’t let fall (why wouldn’t he even now just let them fall?), “I love that tail.”

“Cheers, I’m pretty fond of it too,” Fox said. “I’ll die, but at least I’ll have been seen, right?”

“We see you.” Magenta wrapped her arms around Fox like she’d save him by strength of will alone.

“I shall erect a statue of you, little fox, in my courtyard garden,” Marcus’ voice wavered. “A cat, hedgehog, and fox to honor your shimage heritage. I shall be able to look out at you as I work every day.”

“Brilliant.” Fox’s lips tugged up at one side like he was trying but failing to smile. “I’ll be a distraction even when I’m dead.”

“Enough.” Magenta looked like she was about to hurl. “There shall be no more talk of…no more, do you understand? I’ll find a way to free Fox, and we will break the wards. And you, my sweet mage, will survive because no one here gives you permission to die.”

Fox struggled to pull back from her enough to salute.

Marcus glanced between us. “But I shall grant you permission to ride my dear brothers on Saturday in the wretched Dragon Polo Tournament. If it helps you to win and so break the wards faster, then I happen to believe that they’d gladly help save the High Ruler.”

“High Ruler?” I mouthed at Fox.

He shrugged.

“Whisper the words Yellow Orchid to my brothers before the tournament.” Marcus’ eyes narrowed. “They’ll know then that you’re sent by me to ride them not as slaves, driven by whips and spurs, rather as free dragons. You’ll see then how freedom gives wings speed.”

“We’ll win,” Magenta whispered the words into Fox’s hair like a spell, “and we’ll free you.”

She didn’t add before you die, but we all heard it.

I met Bask’s troubled gaze. He shook but what worried me most was the way that he held himself apart from the rest of us, rather than seeking our touch, almost like he was punishing himself for failing Fox.

He’d done the same after Hector had been torn apart on the mission.

Yet how could I reassure him, when I was as wrecked as him?

I shuddered. If I’d known that this was where the chaos moment would lead me, would I still have seized it?

As soon as the other Immortals and I returned to the Rebel Academy without a collared shifter as our prize, we’d have failed the mission, and as punishment, the man who I loved would be walled up alive.