Rebel Academy: Curse

Chapter Eleven BASK

I wasn’t a warrior but I was a brilliant dragon rider. Here’s the thing, it was all in the thigh muscles. Ma would’ve been proud. Incubi needed powerful thighs to wrap their legs around their lovers, as well as hold demanding positions. The training in the Incubi Harem was more sensually practical than squats alone.

It wasn’t only my arse that was flexible.

I gasped, as Rayn swooped above the frozen lake, which was like polished sapphire in the shadowed night. The Dead Wood beyond pulsed with ancient magic: Magenta’s pink magic, which ran through the academy. It provided mood lighting for the tournament. The scent of yew trees enveloped me, and the breeze was fresh and raw. Oxford’s spires and domes were a blur in the distance.

For the first time in ages, however, I ached with hope that my lovers could escape to that outside world, which wasn’t trapped in this eternal winter.

The snow drove into my face in freezing flurries, and I shivered, slipping on Rayn’s damp back.

Whoops…

I yelped, squeezing my don’t you wish you could feel them around your hips thigh muscles.

My breath became ragged, and my pulse thundered. My slinky self couldn’t fall and become nothing but an incubi shaped splatter on the lake.

Who’d save my lovers then?

I could die as many deaths as the Duchess wished, once she dragged me back to the Succubi Court (rejected, trained to burn myself, or refused touch as a Not There), but until then, I had to breathe so that my lovers would.

Incubi sacrificed everything for their lovers. It was this whole thing.

Rayn’s yellow magic fluttered around me, holding me safely onto his back.

Maybe I overstated just how brilliant I was at dragon riding. Modesty is not my middle name. Well, that could be because I didn’t have one…if I did, it’d probably be Pettable. Away with you, it would.

“If it pleases you, Rayn, don’t let me fall.” I stroked my gloved hand down his neck. “Don’t you desire to win this and beat those Princes for once?”

Rayn blew out a burst of golden flames in agreement, as he dived lower.

I smirked. I had this.

My cock and balls hit against Rayn’s back, as I bounced up and down on each swoop lower, and I bit my lip at each spark of pain-pleasure. Did the Princes wear special Dick Protective Gear for dragon riding? I bet their long…gorgeous…dicks and silky balls were sheathed in soft leather, while mine became as bruised as my ass (the outrage).

I wasn’t also squirming because my dick was enjoying the ride (promise, snicker).

Rayn swung his head around with an amused expression. I hadn’t known that dragons could even look amused.

I flushed.

A dragon is not a sex toy.

I should’ve remembered that because it was Number 133 on my List of Kink Rules. Plus, the joke was on Sleipnir because he’d rolled his eyes, when I’d added that one.

“It’s like this, see, you’re almost as comfy as my pillows.” I smiled, dreamily. “Nile would love you but he’d be jealous of your fangs.”

Rayn huffed out a breathy laugh, before twisting to show off his sharp teeth with smug bravado. He’d make as fine a man as a dragon. I wished that I could meet him like I had Marcus. Then he flew faster towards the castle, Sleipnir, the other dragons, and the start of the tournament.

This was it.

My pulse thrashed in my ears.

This. Was. It.

Sleipnir flew forward to meet me with slow, graceful beats of his multi-coloured wings, which glimmered under the moon-light. I craved to caress over his feathers. How soft were they? I bet that I could make a fine nest on his wing.

How could anyone call Sleipnir monster? I'd never seen anything more beautiful and I admired myself in the mirror every morning (and it doesn't make me a narcissist if it's the truth; I read that somewhere).

My Slippy thrummed with magic and joy like showing his true self had unleashed him.

Would I ever be that free?

I blinked away tears. They were only snowflakes melting down my cheeks, nothing else.

An incubus didn't cry... Weeping made me ugly... Nobody loved an ugly incubus...

Magenta clung to Sleipnir's back. Her black mists curled around his red coat. They were connected like they were meant to be one, always and forever: death, life, and the line in-between. She had me beat on the thigh muscle method of riding, although I imagined her thighs were just as brilliant because everything about her was delicious.

I shivered but this time not at the cold, rather at the sight of the wickedest witch riding towards me, as her power rolled off her in waves of sparkling pink, on a feathered eight-legged horse with glowing eyes.

If they hadn't been on the same side as me, I'd have wet my pants.

For the first time, I was certain that us Immortals could win this. It was time to make the Princes wet their pants.

Bring on the wetting of princely pants.

As Sleipnir circled Rayn, Magenta grinned at me with a frosty darkness that chilled, as well as thrilled me. This powerful witch loved me, and we were going to battle together.

I glanced at our audience below on their thrones. The House of Crows, as well as its patron, Titus, and Darby desired power, but they'd never understand true power like my lovers wielded. Plus, I had a dragon between my legs, and that was enough power for me.

The Duchess looked so small from up here, when she'd always been taller than me. She'd loved to make me kneel, but for once, I was above her.

I'd never forget this feeling.

I longed to whoop. The sensation bubbled through me, until I shook.

Yet Rule 81 of the Incubi Night Code stated: In front of succubi, keep your arse pettable and your mouth shut.

My arse had always been pettable (of course), but I'd sucked at the second half of the rule.

Who was I kidding? My new code was the Rebel Code...and rebels didn't have a code, see, they had freedom.

So, I threw back my head and whooped like I'd never whooped before.

My face ached with my smile, as the wind blew across my cheeks and the moon broke through the clouds. Rayn roared, and Sleipnir gave an answering neigh, pawing at the air.

Magenta howled, just as psyched as me. Wildness vibrated through our magic, drawing us closer in our excitement. How'd we become the dangerous ones?

Perhaps, we always had been.

Together, us Immortals turned towards the Princes and their dragons, who were ranked in front of the castles' goals like this was a battle. Willoughby's expression was shuttered, and he remained composed and still. Lysander struggled to control his dragon, however, which weaved from side to side. He was ashen.

Look at that: he was scared of my slinky self.

Brilliant.

"This is a phoenix hunt." I darted my tongue along my dry lips. "If you want your freedom, then you catch it first."

Beneath my legs, Rayn trembled.

My hands clenched. This was for Fox, Magenta, and Ezekiel. I'd lost Hector. No matter how long I'd sat staring at the board of the Membership, wishing that Hector's name would appear on it again or longingly gazed at his portrait in the gallery, I knew that he was...

Dead.

I couldn't lose anyone else, and I refused to take any more ghosts with me to the Succubi Court.

The heartbeat bass of "Take My Breath Away" boomed out louder, signaling the start of the tournament. My own heartbeat raced in time with the song.

The Princes had earned the right to kick-off the game.

I sucked in a deep breath. Yet every one of mine, meant one less for Fox.

My eyes narrowed, and the phoenix burst to life in front of the Princes.

The bird was huge, flaming red and yellow. Its wings sparkled, and its tail fanned behind it. When the phoenix screeched, I shuddered at its piercing cry. Before I could recover, the Princes were on it like hawks.

I gaped at the Princes’ speed and elegance, as the phoenix swooped away from them and they pursued. Lysander chased the bird with an aggressive determination that was hot. Willoughby barely moved, but followed after him with an eloquence and grace that made my dick tight in my pants.

So, that was why they were Champions.

Perhaps, I should've been wetting my pants.

Willoughby and Lysander herded the Phoenix above our heads, towards the far goal that was attached to the Groundskeeper's Cottage. Sleipnir whirled around to block them, but they dodged him. I urged Rayn in pursuit.

Don't be too late...

Lysander glanced over his shoulder at me with a smirk. Then his dragon blasted the phoenix. Its tail flared on fire, and it screeched as it burned to ash. My eyes widened, as it scattered like gray snow, blowing through the goals.

In neon pink lettering, the score sparkled across the night-time sky:

Willoughby and Lysander closed ranks, clasping hands. For a moment, jealousy spiked through me at their closeness.

Was it for Willoughby or Lysander? Or both...?

Adrenaline made me shake. For once, even my shiny hair wouldn’t help me.

How could we beat the Princes, who'd been trained at this since they were kids? It was as easy for Lysander as any of their other haughty princely duties (like walking as if he had a stick up his arse).

I glanced at Magenta, and she wore the same worried frown as me. Then her magic caressed over me, and I knew.

This was a duty to the Princes.

Willoughby was going through the motions; he didn't even want to play on the Princes' side. But for us Immortals, it was our heart and Soul. It was everything for all four of us, including Rayn, and our magic could sense it.

We needed to harness that.

I patted Rayn's side. "These are your skies, if you want them. But you have to take them. You're flying now as a true shifter; I'm riding with your permission. But your brothers are enslaved and saddled. Don't you desire to show everyone what a free dragon can do?"

Rayn roared, beating his wings. His magic reached out to Sleipnir, who raised his head.

Sleipnir nodded his understanding.

Magenta's magic sparkled across Rayn. I gasped at the combined sensation of such powerful magics combining.

This time, when the phoenix burst to life over the ruins, Rayn and Sleipnir flew towards it in total harmony, before the Princes had even spotted it. I laughed, unable to do more than cling on for the ride.

Had I thought that Rayn had been fast before…?

I'd never seen a dragon fly like this, and when I glanced back at the Princes, I knew that they wouldn’t catch us. It was like a wild eagle versus a tamed one. Sleipnir swooped at his side with a fluid deadliness.

Rayn chased the phoenix towards the goal. When it dodged to the side, Sleipnir caught it with his wing and hurled it, still screeching, in a flaming ball through the castles' goal.

And that was how a rebel played…

The neon score lit up the sky:

We could do this.

Lysander's creative cussing was loud enough to be heard across the music. I was glad that Willoughby had thrown away his whip.

Rayn circled, and my heart thudded hard in my chest, as I scanned for the phoenix.

Come on little birdie, where are you...?

All of a sudden, the phoenix flared to life just in front of Rayn. I didn't even hesitate.

Rule 73 of the Incubi Night Code: Never miss an opportunity to snatch a quick orgasm.

I was pretty certain that it also applied to snatching phoenixes.

Rayn charged at the phoenix. I focused on nothing in the dark but that flaring light. The goal was just ahead.

A little more...only a little...almost there...

Rayn lurched to the side, and I screamed.

Don't let me fall.

My stomach dropped. I was going to hurl.

Rayn's magic wound around me, yanking me onto his back. My shoulders ached, and I blinked, dizzily.

What'd happened? My hair must be a mess, and limp too after that scare. Hurt an incubus, but never make his hair limp.

I'd been so close to scoring for my foxy. Where was the phoenix? Where...?

I glanced up with dazed eyes, into Willoughby's concerned ones.

The Princes had rammed me with their dragons.

Was that in the rules? I didn't care. I was cursing them both to hear a creepy whisper from under their bed every time that they fell asleep.

Limp hair was a serious crime. Oh, and also the ramming part.

"My apologies." Willoughby’s gaze was anguished. "Are you hurt?"

"I'm pissed.” I gritted my teeth, as I was forced to watch Lysander score at the other end of the pitch, pursed by Sleipnir.

2 — 1 appeared in the sky.

"The next point is mine." My eyes became flinty.

"I’d be sincerely disappointed otherwise." Willoughby wheeled away towards Lysander.

I knew that I loved more than simply the elf's pretty hair.

My guts churned, and my chest tightened. If the Princes won the next point, then they'd won the entire tournament.

No way would I allow it to happen.

I might only be a freak of a broken incubi but I was also a Rebel. And my friends and lovers in this academy had shown me that meant something.

I studied the sky and then across the wood, lake, and the castle.

Nothing.

I tapped the rhythm of my own heartbeat on Rayn's hide.

Nothing.

Magenta met my gaze, offering me a reassuring smile.

Nothing.

In a burst of light, the phoenix resurrected itself in the middle of the pitch, directly between the Princes and me.

"Hunt the phoenix!" I howled.

Rayn dived for the phoenix like he was part of the storm. At the same time, Lysander flew towards it with deadly intent. I'd have admired his talent and how regal he looked if he hadn't just tried to unseat me with dirty tactics. Now, I was imagining him over Willoughby's lap for a non-fun spanking (and that was fantasy role-play Number 17 in my role play list).

I swallowed: this was going to be close.

Too close.

With a whoosh of wings, Lysander and I arrived at the Phoenix together.

I clenched my jaw.

Come on, fae, let’s play the phoenix version of Chicken...and you should never play that with an incubus because they never blink first...

Lysander's eyes widened, but he hunkered even lower over his dragon and didn't pull back.

How badly did he desire to win?

Rayn didn't even waver. Behind me, Magenta hollered, before Sleipnir squealed in warning.

I. Would. Not. Blink.

"I breathe for you, Fox," I murmured.

Lysander yelled in frustration, pulling back at the last minute.

Was it too late?

Lysander rose above my head. The beat of his dragon's wings blasted across my face. I paled, glancing down to check that I hadn't embarrassed myself.

Wow, that'd been close. But look, my slinky self had won over the warrior.

I grinned, as Rayn blew on the phoenix in triumph, guiding it into the goal with a smug nonchalance, before blasting it to ash in a victory celebration.

Willoughby shot me a soft smile, before schooling his face back to blankness.

Magenta wheeled around me on Sleipnir. "In the name of Hecate, what courage! Do you know how much I admire you?"

I blushed. No one had ever admired me for courage before. They'd admired my arse or my dick but that wasn't the same (remarkable thought).

This time when the score lit up the sky, I pinked with pride:

Everything rested on the final point. I wiped the snow out of my eyes, before smoothing my hair back because good grooming in the face of pressure was winning.

It was why the English had triumphed at Agincourt. Probably.

All of a sudden, the Princes' dragons turned to look at Rayn, and he nodded like he was giving them a signal. Hold on, it was exactly like that.

The dragons jerked out of the Princes’ control, diving towards the ground.

I gasped.

I didn't want to win by squishing the elf and fae who...were mine as much as the Immortals were...or Nile. Okay, I was claiming them and adding them to my list of Snuggle Options. No squishing my snuggle partners. That had to be an unwritten rule.

The dragons dived close enough to land in front of the platform, before they bucked. The Princes were hurled off their backs and onto their arses. I winced on their behalf. It had to smart their pride as much as their cute behinds.

Magenta coiled out her black mists, seeping her magic across the grounds. Her power was awe-inspiring. Her eyes glittered ice-cold, as she whipped up the snowstorm.

The phoenix blazed to life like a flare above the Dead Wood.

Magenta lifted herself up and waved at the phoenix. "Shall we?"

I grinned. "It's everything I desire."

Sleipnir and Rayne swooped through the magic infused grounds, trailing their own magic like ribbons as they crossed each other. It was stunning. I shook, never taking my gaze from the phoenix. Rayn blasted out a golden flame, and the phoenix screeched, flapping towards the castle. Us Immortals followed it like a victory lap, as the Princes watched from the ground.

Magenta and I exchanged a glance, before Sleipnir and Rayn snorted fire at the same time, scorching the phoenix to ash...and through the goal.

We'd won the tournament together. Whatever happened after this, we'd always have this moment.

Pink fireworks blasted into the sky, lighting it up with the score and announcing:

The silence from the audience below was deafening. Just ask me how much my sexy self didn't care that the result didn't amuse the bad bastards. Crushing relief made me collapse forward, and a sob caught in my throat.

My lovers were safe.

Yet a prickling fear coursed through me. The hairs on my nape rose. Someone was studying me. When I glanced down, I met the Duchess' assessing gaze.

I shuddered. What did she see when she looked at me? Was she furious that I hadn't been reformed or excited about her new plans to break me all over again? She'd told me that she could never love me or even care for me like she did her favorites in the harem. I knew that these could be my last moments of freedom.

Yet Fox would survive, and Magenta would remain free. Although it was my greatest wish to stay with them and witness their true freedom when they broke the curse, I loved them enough to let go. When I landed, I'd no longer belong to them or be a Rebel.

At least, that was what the Duchess thought. In my heart, I'd always be theirs, and she'd never be able to beat the Rebel out of me.

Just let me have this last moment of victory and freedom, before I lost myself forever.