Rebel Academy: Curse

Chapter Eight SLEIPNIR

In the name of the Valkyries, I couldn't survive another minute...moment...single breath...without Fox.

How had I ever doubted that a monster could love? Yet why had I craved to feel this agony, which was like my heart was being crushed in my chest?

I hunched on the bed in our room in the West Wing with my knees tucked close beneath me. Feverish, I shivered with chills, despite the pink fires that blazed in the braziers. An aroma like bonfires sparking with rich magic wrapped around me.

I'd stripped down to my pants, and my chest was slicked with sweat. My hair hung into my face; it transformed in a rainbow display from aquamarine, to pink, and then red, as my brothers fought to the surface, and I wasn't able to balance the cycle of my emotions. Shimmering sea serpent tattoos coiled around the werewolf tattoos on my arms in a desperate embrace.

It was only in times of extreme distress that my brothers could see and hug each other, which was seriously messed up.

I wouldn't lose control of my monster.

I bit my lip, until I tasted copper blood. Then I bit harder again.

Fox had chosen this.

Hey look, every time I thought that, it didn't become easier.

He'd known what returning without Marcus would mean, and I couldn't help respecting every furry inch of him for it. I'd made an oath to Loki that I'd never cage another shifter, and because of Fox, I hadn't broken it.

I owed Fox both my honor and my word to Loki. And that was everything.

Next to me, Bask shifted in his nest of blankets and satin pillows. Only the top of his silky head poked out, as well as his crocodile plushie, Nile's, snout. Bask had built a wall of pillows around his cocoon of blankets. I'd seen this behavior before, which kind of made me twitch with how wrong it was for an incubus who needed touch to feed (and since we'd all missed breakfast and lunch, we must be hungry), to avoid it.

Bask had done the same thing for weeks after Hector's death. At least, he'd tried too, but I'd had ways to show him that he didn't need to punish himself by denying himself comfort.

Bask had felt even guiltier for Hector's death than I had because he'd loved Hector in that dangerous way of his, which was both innocent and vulnerable.

I didn't care how the Duchess had trained Bask. She could never touch the blinding purity of his Soul. Magenta sensed it, as much as she'd been called by his pleasure.

Where was Magenta?

By the Norns, she'd been gone too long. What if she'd been stolen away as well?

Magenta, hear the son of Loki, I trust you. The veils parted and Fate joined us. I know you'll save my foxy pain in the ass.

I'd always wished for a friend who’d believe in me.

Couldn’t I be that friend for Magenta?

I reached for my guitar, which rested next to the bed, hugging its body like I could clasp Magenta. I ran my thumb down its neck, before strumming across the strings, breathing out. My heartbeat slowed. My music had soothed me for centuries.

Hunted by witches? A guitar ballad. Terrified in a wood? A classical solo. Trapped in caves? Acoustic rock.

Perhaps, in a past life I'd been a bard…?

I grimaced. Omens and runes, I hoped not.

Bards were dicks.

As if in agreement, Mist raised his head and snorted. His mane was red, his fur was aquamarine, but his tail was candyfloss pink, which reflected my own instability. He trembled, curled on the headboard. When he turned his head away from me it was like a kick in the balls.

I strummed Billy Eilish’s epic “No Time to Die”, which wept from my guitar with the lightest of touches; its grief and longing fed my own.

I closed my eyes, softly singing the verse with an added rock twist. I let the song take me over, losing myself in the lyrics.

In the music, there was no struggle between my brothers.

When I sang, I was simply…me.

I clutched my guitar more tightly.

Let the real world just fall away…build the song like cresting waves…drown in this utter peace, until the music stops.

Why does the music always have to stop?

I howled, tossing the guitar to the end of the bed, then I hurled myself across the room, sweeping our schoolbooks off the desks and kicking over the neat piles. The blaziers exploded in furious bursts.

Why should I control the monster? There were enough other monsters roaming this academy.

How dare the witches wrap their cruelties in the package of education?

I twirled around, searching for something else to crush, wreck, break…

“Slippy,” Bask’s voice was shocked and broken; when he peered at me over the top of his blanket cocoon, my chest tightened, “I need you.”

I hesitated, pressing against the wardrobe. The handle dug into my back. Was I what Bask needed right now? Honestly, he needed either Fox to care for or Magenta to adore.

I was the Rebel who didn’t even belong here. I was a hostage victim and not a student.

Bask’s eyes narrowed, and he struggled further out of his nest. “So does Nile.” He turned the plushie to glare at me. “Kiss him sorry.”

Despite myself, my lips curled into a smile. Bask could manipulate a kiss for himself through Nile from anyone. Well, perhaps not from Bacchus. I stalked towards the bed, throwing myself next to Bask.

I kissed Nile’s gleaming tooth (which was his favorite supplicant’s spot). “There. Better?”

Bask smirked, and his eyes gleamed.

Uh-oh…

Bask snatched me by the neck, rolling me underneath him and straddling me with a look of triumph. “Now me.”

Since he was naked, apart from his pink gloves, could I help the way that I groaned and my dick hardened?

I traced my hands down his sides, before settling them on his slim hips. The way that he arched into the touch told me how desperate he was for it. Hel’s tits, I’d have trashed the room before now, if I’d known the thought of all that tidying up was what it’d take to stop him punishing himself.

When he leaned down, I reached up and kissed him with a gentleness that shocked him more than if I’d savaged his lips.

Perhaps, after he’d seen me wreck the room, he’d hoped that I’d wreck him.

My expression darkened. “Fox isn’t Hector.” When Bask attempted to wriggle away from me, I tightened my hold around his hips. “He’s not lost to us. Seriously, it’s not the same. He’s not just a portrait on the wall.”

“Yet.”

“You love me, right?”

Bask’s eyes widened. “With every breath and forever.”

“Then trust me.”

Bask’s expression softened, and he settled against my chest, nuzzling against me.

When my stomach rumbled, he snickered.

I poked him. “Hey, can I help it that I’m starving?”

Bask circled my nipple with his tongue, and it peaked. My eyes fluttered closed. He flicked his tongue across my nub faster, before lightly biting.

Valhalla! I rubbed my crotch against his. Sparks of pleasure skittered up and down my dick like a promise.

“Incubi are delicious.”

“Looks like gods are too,” I gasped.

The sensation of Bask’s smile against my nipple was like joy itself.

I pulled the blanket over our heads. In these moods, I knew that Bask’s nests comforted him, just the same as my music did me. I teased the strands of his hair, as they dipped between his shoulder blades. Finally, I allowed myself to drag him up into a long, slow, and deep kiss.

Incubi were delicious.

I devoured his coco and almond lips. I could live on their taste forever because he was mine.

We both moaned at the same time.

“Sweet Hecate, a sex monster appears to have taken over Bask’s nest. I’ll warn you now that he’s fiercely protective of his pillows,” Magenta’s amused but muffled voice broke into the darkness.

Bask and I threw the blanket off at the same time, blinking in the light.

I didn’t even bother to smooth down my hair (even though I knew by Magenta’s grin that my hair was messier than Fox’s curls when he awoke in the morning). “Where is he?”

Well, that was one way to sober a witch.

Don’t say it, don’t say it, don’t say…

“You’re just hiding Mr. Fierce in your skirts, right?” Bask demanded, hopefully.

“The witch who I’m ashamed to call my descendant wouldn’t free Fox or the professor.” Magenta hugged her arms around herself.

“May she be cursed to always read the Rebel Mottoes in the voice of SpongeBob SquarePants,” Bask hissed.

Wow, that was some serious cursing.

Why wasn’t I smashing the wardrobe or hurling the desks against the wall? Only now that Magenta was here and needed me, it was easier to control Fenrir’s destructive urges.

Magenta avoided my gaze. “I tried.”

I vaulted off the bed, sweeping her into my arms and dragging her head to rest on my chest. The scent of the wild woods wound around me, calming my emotions and my brothers, until my hair settled to aquamarine.

For the first time in hours, I could think clearly.

“I know.” I stroked Magenta’s hair.

“We’ll win the tournament, see,” Bask added, even though his voice trembled, “and our whipping boy will be fine.”

“Then our Princes won’t.” Magenta raised her head to look at me. Our Princes? Magenta darted her tongue across her lips. “The Princes and I made a deal with Damelza. You see, I rather underestimated the nobility of certain fae princes.”

Bask gasped, clutching the sheets that’d pooled in his lap; his dick wilted in dismay. “The Prince must’ve cast a Delusional Hex or dosed her with Fae Kink Potion.”

“He did nothing of the sort, although I rather like the sound of that potion.” Magenta licked her lips again. “In fact, all of the Princes showed up at the study to beg for the freedom of both Immortal and Professor.”

“Perhaps, they were hit with a Delusional Hex,” I scoffed.

Magenta tapped my nose with her finger. “I believe that we’ve been too quick to dismiss their finer merits and pounce on their flaws. Just as we’ve been too slow to look for the reasons behind their behavior.” Her gaze became troubled. “I would’ve blamed Lysander for so much, when he was guilty of nothing but being born a fae prince. Despite that, he offered everything he had to save the man who I love and now…”

Her eyes gleamed with tears, and mine widened.

“What sort of deal did you make?” I demanded.

Fenrir snarled, clawing to escape.

We were screwed.

“Double or nothing. If we win the Tournament, then Fox will be freed. But if we lose, then I’ll be cast back into the tree,” Magenta admitted. What could I say? I trusted her. This way, either both were saved or both were lost. That was a chaos moment. She tilted her head, considering me like she’d expected me to explode in fury at her choice (and perhaps punch a wall because hey, there was precedence). Her soft smile when I didn’t was the best reward. “But it’ll cost the Princes too if they lose.”

“Their pretty silk uniforms…?”

“Don’t you think that they can be hurt too?”

I flushed.

“Pet me,” Bask demanded.

How had I forgotten that he was abandoned alone on the bed?

He shook, staring at us with impossibly wide, ruby eyes.

It’d meant everything to him to free Magenta, and I wouldn’t let anything take that away from him.

I swept Magenta into a bridal carry, and she let out a surprised, delighted laugh. Her arms looped around my neck. I carried her to the bed, before settling with her next to Bask, so that she was half way in both our laps, shared between us. Instantly, Bask stroked along her thigh, like he needed to pet her.

Then he leaned in to kiss her tenderly. “We’ll win.”

She gave a determined nod.

Then my lovers and I jumped at the sharp rat-a-tat on the door. Magenta’s arms tightened around my neck.

Who on Odin’s hairy balls was that?

Bacchus stalked in without any concern for our privacy. It didn’t matter if us Immortals were naked or screwing. Juni and Damelza made a point of not coming to this part of the castle, but instead, summoned us through the brands.

My brow creased.

The rat-a-tat was more hesitant this time.

My lovers and I exchanged glances. Then Magenta slipped off my lap to stand in front of Bask and me protectively. I raised my eyebrow. Huh, no one but dad had ever shielded me before, and I was careful to hold inside the grin that she thought that I needed it.

Magenta's power was a serious turn-on. She radiated strength, smarts, and kindness. It made my balls ache in a good way.

Bask pouted that his petting companion had been taken away from him. "Go away if it pleases you," he called, "we're studying."

Silence, as if the person outside was considering this.

"This could be a good opportunity for you to learn the lesson about sharing," Magenta whispered.

I bristled. How did she know who was visiting us?

"I'd be honoured to...study...with you," Willoughby's muffled voice called back through the door.

I rolled my eyes. I was desperate for a mage, and I'd conjured an elf instead. Fate had a screwed sense of humor.

Magenta's eyes, however, lit up with such excitement that something twisted inside me. She craved this, and I wasn't such an asshole that I'd deny her a love that met her needs. The Ice Prince suited her own icy soul.

It didn't hurt that Willoughby had lean limbs that'd feel awesome wrapped around my hips as I pounded into him, a perfect voice to duet with, and the prettiest hair that I'd ever seen on a guy.

Hey, he had possibilities.

I sauntered to the door, swinging it open.

Willoughby's head was ducked, and his hair hung across his face. He blinked like he hadn't expected us to open the door. The unguarded softness made him look adorable, before he raised his head, shifting back into the stance of predatory danger, which I was used to. I shivered; I could come to love both sides.

He glanced over my shoulder at Magenta and smiled.

I rested against the door frame, crossing my arms. "Why didn't you just barge in?"

He shot me an affronted look. "Your wing is warded against Princes, just as mine is warded against you Immortals. I can’t enter without permission. Plus, Light Elves are raised with manners."

"Of course, The Pointy Ears Book of Formal Manners," Bask smirked

Willoughby arched his brow. "Have you forgotten how perfectly you fitted over my lap and the hot slap of my hand across your behind?"

Bask blushed, but his dick hardened, tenting under the sheets and betraying his true feelings about the subject of being over Willoughby's knee again. By Willoughby's knowing look, he'd guessed the effect of his words.

I slammed my hand against the door frame, and Willoughby's expression became less certain. "So, we're kind of busy here..."

He reached behind him to pick up a large wicker picnic basket. He swung it between us like an offering. His gaze still had that lost look around the edges but like he was struggling to remain present with us.

"You missed breakfast and lunch. I thought..."

I studied the basket, remembering the tea towel that Fox had been forced to use for our picnic in the Dead Wood. Most of the time, Immortals were starved on barely edible food, while the Princes ate luxury food parcels that were sent by Titus. Fox had created something that he called crisp sandwiches for us.

Why had I mocked him when he'd been trying his best?

I'd take Fox's lovingly made crisp sandwiches over the Prince's casual luxury any time.

I knocked away the basket, and Willoughby's eyes widened with shock. "We're not hungry."

Behind me, however, Magenta let out a squeal of delight. "Did you bring cucumber sandwiches, scones, pies with meat fillings, and those little cakes with cream inside?" My stomach rumbled: traitor. She clapped her hands, bouncing on her toes. "Did you remember the tea?"

Willoughby’s lips quirked. "My favorite blend."

Magenta's sigh was orgasmic and made my dick twitch. Willoughby's uniform was so tight that it didn't hide how hard he was either.

He eyed me. "Do I now have permission to enter?"

"Yeah, come on. It'd take a braver man than me to get between Magenta and her tea." It felt weird to share a private smile with Willoughby.

I watched, as he settled the basket on the floor, and Magenta eagerly curled next to it. Bask scrambled out of bed and didn't even pause to throw on his pants.

Bask’s immodesty was one of his most endearing qualities. But then, if I was that beautiful, I'd also stroll around shaking my naked ass.

Bask winced, however, at the freeze of the polished stone on the soles of his feet. He hated the cold.

Before Bask could sit down, Willoughby dragged a blanket off the bed and spread it on the floor. Magenta sprawled on the blanket, and Bask winked at Willoughby in thanks, before sitting down cross-legged.

"Naked picnics were all the rage in the incubi harem," Bask said. "Here's the thing of it, they often include other fun games..."

"Color me surprised," I growled, staking my position next to Magenta.

Magenta ran her hand down my leg at the same time as holding her hand out to Willoughby.

Willoughby knelt next to the basket. He took Magenta's hand but only to raise the back of it to his lips and gently kiss it. Her breath hitched.

Only the day before, Willoughby had sat with us beside the lake, before taking Bask over his lap. After all, it'd been part of our plan to win him to the side of the Immortals in order to break the spell within the Membership and free us from the wards. The night before that, Magenta had screwed Willoughby and slept in his arms. The way that he'd possessed her alone that night... disturbed me.

Did Magenta love me in the same way? It was like they were kindred spirits who understood each other.

But what was I?

Love me, Valhalla, love me.

Yet this felt different…like a date.

Giants and trolls, was this a date?

When I spluttered with laughter before I could stop myself, Magenta shot me a we're all crazy here but that just makes us awesome look.

Willoughby probably called it something romantic like courting. Okay then, I’d never been courted before, and I'd swear on the Runes that Bask hadn't been either.

Time to enjoy this.

"Show us what you've got," I challenged.

Willoughby flipped open the basket, before laying out a feast of sandwiches, cakes, and chocolates on delicate plates.

Was I drooling?

Bask snatched a chocolate cupcake and stuffed it in his face like he was scared that the food was only a mirage. Then he did a thumbs up.

When Willoughby laid out silk napkins like we were at a dinner party for royalty, I snorted.

Magenta nodded, on the other hand, approvingly. "At last, someone who understands proper picnic etiquette. I was afraid that such things had been forgotten in this age to be replaced by a bizarre casualness of attire."

She stared at Bask and me pointedly.

I glanced down at my bare chest. "What?"

Bask ran his hand down his own chest, tweaking his nipple. "Whoops, did I mix up black tie with nudist on the invitation again?"

Willoughby laughed, low and musical. When he held out a plate of beef sandwiches, I snatched one and devoured its salty goodness.

Wow, that was good.

Was there a hint of horseradish in that or...? Frigg's tits, my stomach was easily won over.

I licked away the last crumbs. "This is food from the Princes' special larder, right? The one that's warded and locked with the dickish message KEEP OUT, PRINCES ONLY. THAT MEANS YOU, IMMORTALS."

Willoughby placed down the plate. "The academy's patron, Titus, sends it magically from the fae Court. But before you believe that we're treated every day, the food's a privilege that must be earned and losing it is one of the most common punishments. Also, effective. I saved up my Privilege Points because…" He waved at the feast in front of us, and the tips of his ears reddened, which was cute. "...I wished to share this with you."

Bask's eyes flared and all of a sudden, he was the predator.

He crawled with a seductive swing of his hips across the blanket to Willoughby, before stroking his gloved hand down Willoughby’s cheek and murmuring against his lips, "I accept your tribute, and the answer is yes."

Willoughby's eyes widened, and the breath caught in his throat. Then his arms were clasped around Bask's waist, hauling him onto his lap: claiming him. Bask snuggled closer to him.

Was that some kind of unofficial bonding?

My hands clenched on my lap. "You don't have to buy us."

"Slippy," Bask gasped.

I wished that I could take it back as soon as I saw the desperate hurt in Willoughby's eyes.

"Isn't this what friends do?" Willoughby said, quietly. "If I've mistaken my bounds...if I'm not your f-friend..."

I hated how he stumbled, forcing himself to get out the words. Guilt squirmed in my guts.

"You are," Magenta insisted.

"Hey, I never had a friend before Rebel Academy." Why was this so hard to explain? It looked like sharing was a lesson that I still needed to learn because it'd been as easy as breathing between us Immortals, but the Princes deserved me to give them an equal chance. "As the son of Loki, I've had more lovers than Fox has told lies, but no one who I loved, apart from dad. I'm new at all this caring. So, I'm sorry, right? Let's be pals."

Willoughby nodded, picking at a fraying thread on the sheet, unraveling it. "My brother adored picnics when he was young. I only ever took him with me so that we could adventure into the woods. I'd sneak him away from his tutors in the summer. Darby struggled with their strictness and at least I could distract him for awhile..." Was this the same younger brother who tortured him with his cursed silk uniform? Willoughby sounded like he loved him in the same way that I did my brothers, but Darby hurt him in return. What an asshole. "I merely wished to distract you in the same way because I can hardly bear that I've been forbidden to heal Midnight's wings until after the tournament, just as I'm certain that you can't bear..."

Fox.

The unsaid word hung between us, ghostly.

"So, distraction." Willoughby lifted out a porcelain tea cup that was decorated with a black stallion, which already brimmed with hot tea. I wanted one of these magic picnic baskets. The tea’s strong scent of fresh earthiness was like grasses on a mountainside. "My special blend."

Magenta gave another of her orgasmic sighs, before taking the cup like it was Willoughby's heart. I studied her lips caressing the cup, before she sipped, and then the long line of her throat as she swallowed.

Delicious.

Willoughby's eyes were glassy, and his pupils were dilated. He watched Magenta like if she rejected his tea, he'd be crushed.

"Perfect," Magenta breathed. "Thank you. You've no idea how much I've been dying for a truly decent cup of tea."

Willoughby lit up like she'd told him that he was her ideal match. Wait, was that like Victorian speak for that?

She was also my perfect match.

When she took her next sip, I captured her mouth with mine. She gasped in surprise, and the tea passed between our mouths. I forced myself not to close my eyes, despite the shocking intimacy, as I swallowed. Then I chased the taste of the tea with my tongue, and she did the same, warring for dominance.

When I pulled back, she looked dazed.

"You've done enough dying." I traced over the beautiful horse on the cup. "So, you have a thing for ponies?"

Willoughby's hair tinged with ice, and his eyes became frosty. "Stallions." I grimaced. No kink shaming, but that wasn't my thing. "I birthed and raised two stallions. Thunder and Lightning were brave and loyal."

I winced at the were. "Sorry for being a dick. I had a wolf cub; her parents were murdered by witches." Why had I told him that? I never told anyone about my past. "But she wasn't a pet because she deserved to be free."

Willoughby nodded, and the ice melted from his hair; Bask shivered as it dripped onto his shoulders. "I've come to the same understanding."

I bit my lip. I didn't trust Willoughby like Magenta, but he was part of this. He risked punishment every moment that he chose Immortals over Princes. Didn't he deserve to at least know about the Membership?

I pushed myself up, swaggering to the wall at the back of the bedroom. "The Membership," I announced to trigger the magical spell.

Willoughby straightened, and Bask wriggled around in his arms, until he was straddling him. He ground down, rubbing his dick against Willoughby’s, who groaned.

Then Bask pressed their foreheads together. "If you desire it, I can heal Midnight. You offer us your tribute, but we can offer you help as well. I love those who I claim, and I'm claiming you. You're mine now."

Willoughby's longing gaze flicked to Magenta's.

Her smile was tender. "I’ve already claimed you. I believe that our rude god is attempting to show you that he’s claiming you too…in his own way.”

Bask snickered.

Yeah, she had a point.

The wall opened, and a board that curled with the RA emblem and neon pink writing slotted out:

"Surely this is a mistake?" Willoughby muttered. "You're teasing the stupid elf?"

Magenta placed down her tea (with serious reluctance), before leaning forward to grip Willoughby by the chin. Then she kissed him with a passion that caught him off guard. Bask wrapped his legs around him, holding him still for Magenta's wicked kiss.

When she drew back, they were both panting.

"Did that feel like a mistake or teasing?” She demanded.

Willoughby glanced down at his hard dick, which must be painful trapped in his uniform. "Possibly teasing..." He ran his finger through a cake's cream filling, before smoothing it along Magenta's jaw. She shivered, as he licked it off with serious dedication.

There were definite possibilities with that tongue.

Like a professor (and by the Norns, I'd make a hot professor), I tapped the board. "You're here because you belong with us. Can you help us win over Lysander?"

"You don't need my help for that," Willoughby managed, through his feathered kisses and licks down Magenta's neck, "you already have him, if you only knew it."

If that was true, then it meant that Midnight needed to be our focus.

Yet in a couple of hours, I had to fly in the Dragon Polo Tournament to save both Magenta and Fox. Even though I knew a secret code word to persuade the dragons to my side, the Princes had never lost.

What were declarations of love and friendship, when by the end of the night, I could lose my two lovers forever?