Rebel Academy: Curse

Chapter Five MAGENTA

Sleipnir clutched me as tightly as Bask held onto Fox.

Bask banded his arms around our mage like he was his crocodile plushie and if he didn't let go, then my witch descendants who ran Rebel Academy couldn't take Fox from us...and wall him up alive.

I shook, stroking along Sleipnir's forearms that bristled with werewolf tattoos, as in turn, tremors ran through Sleipnir.

Mist pawed furiously at Sleipnir's pocket, snorting furiously, like he could break through. I could sense the wildness within Sleipnir, thrumming to burst out in defence of our lover, as much as my own powers seethed within me to break free.

I'd cautioned control to Willoughby, but standing in this portrait gallery waiting for Fox's punishment, I was a single breath away from tearing the academy up by its roots.

It didn't matter that Fox had promised over and over on our agonizing return through the Gateway and snowy trudge back to the castle that this was nothing but a trick.

It was cold comfort that Fox had said he'd be secretly in charge because of our plan to free him from the dark. My terror had been equally undiminished that he'd placed his hand on his chest and sworn that he could hold his breath for a really, really long time.

On Hecate's tit, this was where Robin had been murdered.

The weak morning sun flooded through the arched window in the West Wing, just as it had back in 1891, heating my cheek and lighting Fox's curls like a halo. He forced himself to offer me a small smile.

Sweet Hecate, this couldn't be happening again.

Our Tutor, Professor Bacchus, had ordered us to wait here for Principal Damelza like obedient dolls.

How broken did she imagine us to be?

Yet there was no escape from the academy's wards for the students. My plan to free them meant breaking the Membership, which divided the Princes from the Immortals, and we'd already managed that with the elven Prince Willoughby.

Yet I no longer had the luxury of time with Lysander and his whipping boy, Midnight. Every moment that they resisted, risked Fox's life, but I'd still never force them like once mother had attempted to force me.

My bad choices were like choosing between kissing a frog or a toad, even if I could admit (although only to myself), that I desired to kiss all the Princes, including Lysander.

Why did my stomach flutter at the thought of that?

Yet had I cursed myself, rather than the academy?

I'd been taught that dark magic with wicked intent always had a price. Had burning alive not been enough, but rather I’d be forced to repeat the greatest loss of my life...the death of my first shimage love?

When tears burned the corners of my eyes, I ruthless wiped them away. Fox needed me to be strong.

I would be whatever he needed.

When I clenched my jaw, tilting up my head, Fox met my eye.

This time, his smile was wide, even if he was pale. "A really, really, long time," he mouthed.

Bask's laugh sounded more like a disguised sob.

I couldn't help the way that my gaze slid to the magic mirror, in which once I'd revealed my ghostly self and real name to my Immortals. Long ago, my portrait had hung there. My mother, Henrietta and founder of the Rebel Academy, had walled Robin up alive beneath it because he'd dared to be the first lover to kiss me on the night that I would have been wed to Prince Titus, Lysander's uncle and Guardian.

Cauldrons and broomsticks, on the night that Robin and I had kissed each other as equals, and my magic had bound our souls eternally together.

I was startled out of the aching pain of my thoughts by the sudden stomp of footsteps down the corridor.

Why in the witching heavens was Lysander marching to join us? And why did it make my heart beat faster at the thought of him standing at our side?

Lysander's black blazer with the P crest embroidered in silk on the pocket and the pink silk shirt that hung open at the neck, revealing a glimpse of his translucent collar bone, was smart, and he held himself ramrod straight. But his skin was clammy, and his emerald hair tumbled to his waist in a tangled mess like he hadn't checked himself in a mirror.

It was ideal Prince baiting material, but he'd looked like this before when the Princes' Tutor, Juni, had punished him.

Was he limping?

Why was he in trouble? He hadn't been the one to fail the mission.

Lysander hesitated, hovering next to Fox like he wanted to lay his hand on his shoulder reassuringly (like I'd seen Willoughby do to him), but didn’t quite know how.

Fae Courts clearly had a shocking lack of affection and atrocious parental skills. But then, Lysander's parents had died, hadn't they? I shuddered at the thought of being raised by Titus.

"If you've come to gloat," Sleipnir growled, as his hair spiked an even deeper shade of cinnamon red, "then turn your pretty fae ass around, before I bite it."

He thought Lysander's behind was pretty? He yearned to bite it…?

Ah, possibly not bite in a good way.

Lysander blanched, but his gaze became steely. "One is not here for amusement or cruelty. Do you truly think so little of me still?" His golden wings beat. "My tutor ordered us to witness the punishment as a way to..." He grimaced. "...teach us how grateful we should be that our own whipping boy's wings had only been broken. One requested that one alone represented the Princes at this spectacle because as much as they begged for the chance to say goodbye, I knew that...seeing this...would destroy both Willoughby and Midnight. They’re overly attached to your whipping boy.” I huffed. I had the suspicion that Lysander might be as well. “Of course, we had enough diplomacy to heap thanks in suitable ways upon our Tutor for her mercy."

I gritted my teeth. If any of those ways had involved anything more intimate than foot rubs, then Juni would discover that once I was unleashed, the storm could be deadly. I shivered at the sudden image of Lysander on his knees, rubbing his soft, cherry blossom scented wings across my tingling feet.

But then, he had to open his mouth...

"My guardian was also adamant that I be in the audience, so that I’d be able to report back to him." Lysander shot me a careful look. "It's not so surprising that Prince Titus has a special interest in walling up mages."

I didn't realize that I'd screamed, until my magic burst out of me, wild and unrestrained. My powers whipped up a storm that buffeted the castle with snow tears. The window shattered; the blizzard howled down the narrow corridor.

I thrummed, and my magenta snowed in glittering pink amongst the true snow.

Lysander cursed, shielding his face.

Bask's eyes glittered. "Does it please you to be cursed with a limp dick for the rest of your life?"

Lysander took a step back. "One merely meant..."

Sleipnir let go of me to snatch Lysander by the collar and crush him against the wall. Lysander choked, as Sleipnir pinned him with his arm across his throat.

"I. Will. Wreck. You," Sleipnir snarled, shaking Lysander on each word. "No one hurts Magenta or Fox, and not some asshole fae who wouldn't know love if it kicked him in the balls."

"Of course not," Lysander rasped. "Unseelie don't love, feel, or sacrifice. Emotion is beaten out of us. So, wreck me."

Taken aback, Sleipnir's gaze flicked to mine.

Well, that was unexpected.

Was it guilt or was Lysander offering to have his fae behind more than spanked, simply to help my lovers and me cope?

So, that was how uptight fae showed that they cared.

My expression softened. "Most of us simply say I'm sorry."

Lysander swallowed. "One is truly sorry if my manner implied that..." He sought out Fox's gaze. "My noble self fought for you. You don't need to believe me. In fact, one highly doubts that you will because a fae couldn't possibly love, I believe." He glanced at me, flushing. "But...my royal personage did."

My hands clenched. Was that why Lysander had been limping? Had he rebelled against Juni in defense of Fox, just like he'd tried to save Midnight, and earned himself Punishment Points?

It looked like Lysander was determined to strip away all my fae prejudice and was also closer to becoming one of my Immortals than I'd realized.

Fox gently pushed Sleipnir's hand away from Lysander's throat. When he stroked over the skin beneath, as if in apology, Lysander's wings fluttered.

"Cheers, mate. Sticking up for me to Juni takes balls.” Then he glanced significantly at Sleipnir. “As the one whose furry ass is actually being punished today, I'm putting a stop to fae hurting. Call it a dying wish." Bask clung round Fox’s neck, as if that would force him to take back the words. "Okay, more like a request...okay, hope... This academy is set up to make Princes and Immortals rivals, right? In public and classes, you have to play along to con the professors. But on my prickles, let the truth be that Princes and Immortals don't hurt each other."

Lysander nodded. "You have my word."

Sleipnir snorted. Not helpful.

"As Prefect," I could allow myself that boast, "you have mine."

The storm calmed, and the snow died down. Lysander wasn't fully on our side. But he could be.

There was hope.

Fox sagged in relief against Lysander, absentmindedly running his fingers through his feathers. Lysander stiffened, and despite everything, I smothered a laugh. A fae's wings were as sensitive as a prick, and I could see in Lysander's startlingly tight trousers that his prick was already perking up, despite how he was attempting to shift and hide it.

"Right," Fox rubbed his hands together, "I demand my last kiss. After all, I was once Romeo, but this time, my Juliet will not stab herself because I promise, neither of us are truly dying."

Fox twisted to me, but Lysander's wings banded around him, dragging him close. His hand cupped his cheek.

"If I could grant you life with this kiss, I would," Lysander breathed.

Fox's eyes opened comically large, then Lysander pressed his mouth to his with a tenderness that shocked me. Fox sighed, pressing his forehead against Lysander's and swiping his own tongue against his.

I swept forward, clasping my arms around Fox's waist and feathering kisses up the back of his neck. In claims of possession, Bask and Sleipnir pushed in either side, teasing their hands over Lysander's wings, until he moaned and up Fox's sides, before sucking both sides of Fox's neck with deep, marking kisses.

When Fox was taken from us, he'd feel all of us on his skin. I tightened my arms. Could we keep him safe in our cocoon?

Please, don't let him be taken...

"Wow, I've found four Juliets," Fox murmured.

His eyes were hazy in the good way, and I could see how hard he was fighting to restrain a grin, as he sneaked glances at Lysander.

“One is certainly no girl.” Lysander arched his brow. “And since you’re referencing non-magical fiction, which breaks my fae Court Dictates to read, then I can only surmise that it’s a tragic romance. Our story shall be no such thing. I refuse to allow it.”

Bask snickered. “Our hero.”

Lysander’s eyes flashed, and Bask drew back. “Oh, an anti-hero at best. I can be very, very bad.”

"Perhaps, Crown should be next to suffer the Memory Theater and show you why he's such a bad boy that his guardian sent him here to be reformed," Damelza's cold voice rang down the corridor.

When Lysander winced, fury rushed through me. I twisted around, standing in front of my lovers, as my magic surged through me. In a clacking of heels and flurry of feathers, the Principal of the Academy, Damelza, and her daughter, Juni, strode towards us.

Damelza's hair fell like a silver waterfall to her shoulders, and the feather that was a charm against our powers was tucked behind her ear. A shawl of crows’ feathers was draped across her shoulders. Juni simply looked like a younger, smaller, pointier, version of her mother.

Juni avoided Lysander's searching gaze. If it’d been anyone but a witch who'd just punished her student for attempting to save Fox's life, then I'd have thought that she looked...ashamed.

Crack my broomstick, maybe not all the professors agreed with Damelza's motivational techniques.

I truly believed that this academy would not pass its Magical Safety Inspection.

Just for a moment, I stiffened. Damelza could be my mother here to wall up Robin with the way that she held herself, the glittering obsidian of her dress, and her intense gaze that spoke of death.

My nails bit crescents into my palms.

Except, she was here to wall up Fox, instead. How in the witching heavens was that any better? I glanced around at Fox's ashen face. Did he truly believe that the wall wouldn't suffocate him and that they'd be enough air for him to survive, until I could free him? Or had that merely been another one of his lies?

Damelza swept to Fox; her dress swished snake-like across the floor in the chilling silence. Then she snatched him by the curls and yanked him away from the safe cocoon of my lovers. Bask let out a yell, clasping onto Fox's hand with a determined expression. I'd seen it before when Fox had tried to take one of his pillows.

Damelza wouldn't win this.

For a long moment, Fox was caught in a tug-of-war between professor and student. Damelza's eyes glittered pink in warning, but in turn, Bask's glowed red.

They wouldn't tear him in half, surely?

"Come on now, don't fight. There's enough of my foxy cuteness to go around," Fox panted.

Damelza brushed her fingers over her shawl, and the feathers ruffled up. Black sparks shot out, stinging Bask. With a yelp, he let go of Fox and stumbled back into Sleipnir's arms.

With a satisfied smile, Damelza shook Fox by the curls. "What admirable academy spirit. I delight to see such enthusiasm in my students, even if it is over a whipping boy who failed on his very first mission." Fox pinked. "Do you know what disappoints me the most?"

"That you don't own an army of flying monkeys?" Fox smirked.

I expected Damelza to scowl, but instead, her smile became even more smug (which shouldn't have been possible), "Mages. Especially shimages who are just as disappointing as their mother always told me."

Fox hunched his shoulders, dropping his gaze.

Cursed toads, Damelza’s smugness was the limit. She could make us endure dangerous trials and deadly missions but not smugness.

Damelza had been on a fox hunt from the moment that the new mage had walked down the long road of the academy to the castle. I'd sensed it from Hecate's Tree: the danger that the new student would be in because he was the first mage to enter the academy since Robin. Damelza had only been waiting for the moment that she could tear him apart bloody.

Now, because we hadn't brought Marcus back with us, she had her chance.

When she tightened her fingers in Fox's hair, tugging out several strands, my lips curled back. "I'd insist that you not harm a hair on his head, but it appears that I'm too late for that. As I'm Prefect, our failure on the mission is my fault. Why not be original and shut me up, instead?"

"No," chorused from my lovers.

Even Lysander started towards me like he'd pin my arms down, while Sleipnir held onto my legs to stop me moving any closer to Damelza.

Damelza cocked her head. "An interesting proposition."

"Mother..." Juni hissed. She glanced at me in shock, bouncing on the balls of her feet like she couldn't decide whether to stand with the Principal or by my side. "The Wickedly Charmed girl is clearly not thinking straight. She has a crush on this mage."

Damelza snorted. "Well, thank Hecate I have you here to point out the obvious." Juni reddened. "Just like you have a crush on your fae prince."

Juni's mouth gaped, as her gaze shot to Lysander, who straightened like he was on parade. His expression became shuttered.

Lysander and Juni were lovers? Yuck, yuck, and... Why did my heart feel like it was shrinking in my aching chest? When my shoulders drooped, I forced myself to hitch them up again.

Lysander had never been mine. But how hard would it be to win him from Juni?

"I d-don't... I-t's not the s-same," Juni spluttered.

Damelza waved her hand. "Of course not. You haven't acted on the childish urges because if you had...well, Titus is our patron, and I'd rather that he didn't close us down and make it his life’s work to destroy us in the most intimately painful ways possible."

Juni looked like she was about to vomit. Excellent.

"On Hecate, I swear that I shall never tarnish our name," Juni insisted.

Damelza arched her brow. "I'm glad that I don't need to add be ritualistically executed by our patron to the schedule because this is already such a busy start to term. Plus, I have my own execution to perform."

She hauled Fox towards the mirror, where my portrait had once hung. And where Robin had been walled up alive.

Not again, not again, not…

I prowled towards her. "If you do this, I shall curse the academy and—"

Damelza pretended to yawn. "So much for your originality." She fiddled with the feather in her hair. "Don’t you remember that the first rule of this academy is that you can't fight the professors because of the charms we wear? But please do try, it'll be amusing for me, and a good lesson for you. The spell that is about to be performed is an ancient punishment for captured prisoners in our war with the mages: to be walled up alive in the walls of the castle. Quite effective."

My breaths came fast and short; my heartbeat raced.

This was going to happen...

"Well, let's get this done, I don't have all day." Damelza glanced at the smashed window, before calling, "Ezekiel!"

She wanted our Addict Angel Professor of Dueling and Strategy to witness this too? Would she call in each of our professors like this was a carnival?

Ezekiel swooped through the window. His beautiful purple wings glowed, and his matching violet eyes glowed. Yet even though he landed with a commanding thump, he immediately wrapped his wings around his bronzed chest. Ezekiel was powerful, and the dazed fear that he was attempting to hide, made me want to wrap my arms around him like he was one of my Immortals.

Plus, I adored his tangy citrus cream scent. I could lose myself in the safety of his wings.

Yet my magic smarted with the sense that he wasn't safe.

"You're late," Damelza snapped.

Ezekiel marched to stand next to the mirror. "It would never do to be late to my own execution."

Bask's horrified gasp was mirrored by my own.

"My guardian shall never accept this…brutality," Lysander's sharp voice cut through my own shock. "Professor Ezekiel has long proved his worth as a professor. He’s communicated with my uncle for many years—"

"Your uncle was eager that I make a statement to both professors and students that once a Rebel, always a Rebel,” Damelza snapped. Ezekiel's eyes closed, and he flinched. "Teaching posts are offered as a great honor to those who survive their time as students, but they’re also a privilege, which can be taken away. I must maintain standards. Ezekiel trained you as assassins, but you couldn’t even bring me back a single escaped beast! If a professor’s students fail, then they’re to blame. They must face the consequences."

"Like docked salary? Extra duties? A demotion?" I tilted my head. "How dreadfully stupid of me, of course execution is the obvious choice."

"Of course," Damelza replied, coolly. "Shall I add Professor Ambrose and that brat of his, who I know he's been allowing you to see, despite the fact that it’s breaking my rules?" My eyes widened. I remembered Ty playing in the snow and the fae professor singing songs to his son. Don't let them be hurt because of me. "There are some delightful witches who could take up their positions instead."

Juni's eyes flashed. "An Immortal is one thing, mother, but a Seelie fae Prince...? A child...? This is enough."

For the first time, Damelza shifted uncomfortably. "It appears that my daughter has spoken. I hope that this is a useful learning experience for you all. It's interesting how it's your own Blessedly Charmed magic that now works against you in this castle, while the wards stand. So, storm and tantrum as much as you like, your cold no longer has any bite."

"You're a warrior," Sleipnir hissed at Ezekiel, "kick her ass."

Ezekiel's lips pinched; his expression was tight. He raised his hand to show the same I branded on it as was on Sleipnir's.

"Should I let Ambrose or his son take my place?" Ezekiel demanded.

"That's the spirit." Damelza patted him on the shoulder.

Then the wall opened, yawning into darkness, and Damelza shoved Ezekiel inside.

It was happening all over again like it had with Robin.

Fox's anguished gaze met mine. "Breathe for me."

A single tear chased down his cheek, even as his lips curled into a smile.

"By the branches of the tree, save your children, blessed be," I whispered the incantation that my father, Bryon, had said all those years before (Hecate hear me).

Yet why did I feel like Byron hadn't been praying to Hecate at all?

I couldn't let this happen. Not again.

Hecate, don't take a second mage…another man who I loved…from me.

The howl rose from me like a ball of grief and loss loosed in primal rage. Panic flickered across Damelza's gaze, driving away the smugness. My black mists surged forward, at the same time as Bask, Sleipnir, and Lysander prowled towards Fox. But a pink fire blazed up, blasting to the ceiling with a sizzling roar.

Through the stinging smoke, I watched in terror as Damelza swung Fox around and hurled him into the blackness.

Lightheaded, my knees buckled, and I tumbled to my floor.

Please, no...

Then the gallery sealed, walling Fox up alive.