Rebel Academy: Curse

Chapter Three FOX

Traveling through the Gateway felt much like becoming a cooked hedgehog.

Mage's balls, that tickled. If tickling meant doses of electricity frying me from the inside, at the same time as my insides were torn to teensy weensy pieces.

It was the type of tickling that I'd have imagined the kinky witches inventing as a cruel method to travel through realms. Except, they'd stolen this technology from the angels.

Wow, angels were dicks.

Yet right now, I felt like one too because my lovers and me were on our way to kidnap the dragon who'd shown me on my first night in the academy that shifters could be more than monsters. I'd been brought up to hate my shimage heritage, but Marcus' gentle beauty had shown me that I didn't need to fear transforming.

Yet I'd spent over a decade locked in an attic with my magic bound by a Blood Amulet. How could I condemn Marcus to the same cursed magic in the collar? Sleipnir had wanted Marcus to be free, and this mission was wrecking him the same as me.

I'd do anything to stop the look of devastation that passed from Magenta to Bask, as the collar passed between them.

Another wave of electricity washed over me, and I let out a panicky squeal, curling into a ball of prickles.

Mr. Fierce did not show fear.

Rage built in me at the same time as waves of agony. I worried at the bottom of Sleipnir's pocket with my sharp teeth.

Die cottony threads...

When they unraveled, I smirked at my clothes conquest (smirking in animal form was one of my many...okay, several...okay, a talent). Then all of a sudden, the pain stopped, and Sleipnir stumbled to the side, before righting himself.

My prickles fizzled and sparked with the remnants of ancient magic, and it felt like my body was working out how to put itself back together.

Sleipnir wouldn't be pissed off if I hurled in his pocket, right?

We must be through the Gateway.

I wobbled onto my hindlegs, peering over the top of his pocket. Blinking, my eyes burned against the bright light.

Great Pan, the Court of the Gold Dragons was like a miracle that I'd been waiting all my life to witness. Wooden pillars that coiled with exquisite orchid designs soared to the glazed roof of the study, which was decorated with swooping dragons between the beams. The walls glowed like the sun.

It was warm and smelled sweetly of summer on the turn. How easy it was to forget that only Rebel Academy was cursed to winter. Coldplay’s atmospheric “Magic” piped from the pillars; each yearningly loving chorus tongued me, pulling me further into the love song’s melody.

Marcus sat bent over a gilt-edged desk with his back to us, calmly writing.

The sun streaming through the window over his desk lit the soft blond waves of his hair that fell to his waist like dancing flames. Even seated, Marcus’ bearing was that of a warrior. His muscles were coiled and tight in his yellow jacket and trousers, which were embroidered with orchids and cut like a military uniform.

I'd had enough time to imagine what a deadly dragon court might be like, and it'd included fire-breathing contests, heaving treasure rooms, and naked ice-cream wrestling (rocky road flavor, of course).

A fox could dream.

Yet I'd never guessed at this hardworking tranquility.

Damn my prickles and call me a hamster, Marcus truly was this kingdom's leader, and we were about to destroy his kingdom as much as the archduke himself.

When Magenta took a step forward, her boots clacked on the golden floor, and Marcus' shoulders stiffened. But he didn't turn around. When Magenta's fingers clasped around the Sleep Charm, I hissed.

Mage's balls, don't do it...

Sleipnir slammed his hand over my mouth to silence my furious hissing. I licked his palm with my little tongue, but he only held on more tightly.

Why wasn't Magenta crushing the bag?

Marcus finished his curling signature on the paper, before laying down his pen.

My gaze flicked to the ornate archway out into the corridor. If anyone walked in, then we'd be discovered at the heart of the court. They'd believe that we were here to assassinate their archduke.

That was treason.

I didn't want my head to roll. I mean, where would they even get an ax small enough?

If this kidnapping was going to happen, it had to be now.

Bask slipped the metal collar out of his pocket. His hand shook, and its poisonous magic wound around me. At last, Sleipnir removed his hand from my mouth, crouching into position. Like this, he was all predator on the hunt.

Crush the bag... Wait, please, don't... Just do it…

Mr. Fierce was more barbarian rage and less clear-headed decision making.

Marcus sat up straighter, and Magenta's fingers tightened around the Sleep Charm.

All of a sudden, a wave of golden magic burst from the study's walls and the mouths' of the painted dragons in the roof. The magic curled around the other Immortals and me like warm treacle. It was pleasurable but so intense that I jumped, letting out a startled clicking sound.

Then I froze.

I couldn't move. Slugs and snails, I was paralyzed. When I stared in panic around at Magenta and Bask, I realized that we were all frozen as well.

I hissed my protest, and Magenta met my gaze. She was flushed with apology.

"Free us," Magenta demanded, although her voice shook.

"Like you intended to allow me to remain free?" Marcus' voice was rich and deep. He blew on the paper to dry the ink, before pushing himself out of his chair and turning to face us like we were his guests and not now his prisoners...or would be kidnappers.

I'd forgotten how beautiful he was. His hair fell over his sharp cheekbones, and his golden eyes gleamed with sadness, as he stared between each of us in turn. Why did I feel like I'd disappointed him? Only dad had ever been able to make me squirm like this, when I'd disobeyed the House of Jewels’ rules and Glow, my werewolf friend who'd always acted like a big brother, had taken the whipping for me again.

But I deserved it.

Marcus cocked his head, studying Sleipnir. "Are you not the hero who rescued me from the academy? Did you not break the cursed collar that your friend now clasps and risk much to return me to my kingdom?"

Sleipnir ducked his head. "Huh, I'm no hero. It was a chaos moment."

Marcus' yellow magic fluttered around him like a decadent outfit.

Pan's balls, he was powerful.

Had Damelza truly expected us to survive this mission?

"And what is this then?"

Sleipnir's breath hitched. "Love."

Marcus raised an elegant eyebrow. “Was it love that made the witch’s hand hesitate? Didn’t they teach you at the academy that an assassin’s blade must be swift to strike down their enemy?”

“Do you wish to interrogate us to death?” Bask’s eyes glittered.

Bask was drawing Marcus’ attention away from Magenta; I flinched.

Flambe incubus coming up…

Yet Marcus’ gaze was fixed on Magenta like she was a puzzle that he couldn’t figure out. Then I noticed the way that his hands shook, and he hadn’t stepped closer to her.

He was frightened.

Sometimes, I forgot that Magenta was a witch. Considering that I’d spent a lifetime at the mercy of my own family and now suffered as whipping boy in a coven-led academy because mages were the witches’ enemies, the truth should’ve always been a nagging presence in the back of my mind.

Yet Magenta was simply the woman who I loved. She was dangerous but she’d never be a danger to me.

“You’re not our enemy,” Magenta insisted. “The Principal who sent us here and forced us into becoming assassins is. It was a mistake to hesitate, of course, but I’ve never hurt an innocent on purpose before and I find that it’s not as easy as it looks to be that type of wicked. If you wish to punish anyone for such actions, then please punish me as the Prefect.”

Marcus’ chuckle was weary. “It’s kind of you to believe me an innocent in one breath and the type of wicked who’d hurt others in the next.” When he plucked the collar out of Bask’s pocket, I expected him to hurl it against the wall, grind it beneath his boot, or melt it with his magic. Instead, he only strolled to his desk and placed it on the top. “My magic has destroyed your Sleep Charm. The fae magic would’ve been given to you by our cruel keeper, I suppose. He knows only how to control and subdue, the same as the Princes.” He shuddered. “My dear brothers, are they…?”

He bit his lip like he hadn’t meant to allow himself to ask after his brothers, who were still kept in their dragon form back in the academy.

“They’re fine.” Bask’s expression gentled. “I look out for Rayn.”

“My thanks.” Marcus tapped his fingers on top of the collar. “Well, if your plan had worked, I assume that I would’ve been with them again right now in the stables or was my punishment already set up to take place first?”

Ouch…

Marcus gestured at the shimmering gold, which still pulsed pleasurable waves through me. “This is a trap, which my most talented sorcerers cast to keep me safe inside my Court. It can sense the Gateway and ensnare all users. Did you not imagine I knew that students would be sent after me? I was ridden to the ruins by Prince Lysander on many missions. Since he saw me as nothing but a beast, he didn’t guard his words in front of me.”

Okay, Lysander was one fae who deserved to have his wings pricked. I might kiss the feathers afterward but that was only because they’d taste of cherry blossoms.

“We can’t imagine ourselves back in the academy,” Magenta breathed. “We can’t escape.”

“Ensnared,” Marcus repeated.

On my prickles, us Immortals were trapped in the heart of the dragon court with the archduke who’d we’d been sent to kidnap. If we didn’t return within less than twenty-four hours, then it’d be judged an escape attempt, and I’d be executed, just like I’d die if we failed.

I was one dead mage.

Wait, I was leaving out the best bit: the enraged dragon who’d caught trained assassins attempting to drag him back to slavery. Perhaps, there was a torture and then death option.

You had to be optimistic.

Desperate times called for desperate measures.

I squealed.

Shocked, Marcus winced. Yeah, Mr. Fierce could still battle a dragon archduke with the power of his squeal.

Then Marcus snatched the paper off his desk and marched up to Sleipnir. His eyes blazed, and his magic whipped out from him like ethereal bat-wings.

Uh-oh…

“By my wings, you’ve already captured another shifter.” When Marcus yanked me out of his pocket, the air was pushed out of my lungs with a grunt. “You truly are dishonorable.”

Sleipnir’s eyes widened in alarm, but he still couldn’t move. “Hey, give him back, asshole.”

“I’m not the asshole who’s stolen a member of royalty from the Hedgehog Court,” Marcus roared. First, woah that was both hot and terrifying. Secondly, there was such a thing as the Hedgehog Court...? Brilliant. “How many others are on your hit list?”

Marcus cradled me to his warm chest. He smelled of aromatic Frankincense, which was smoky, but with a single piercing sweet note that made me snuggle closer. His magic stroked across my prickles, and I could move again. I pushed my nose against him, and slowly, his breathing calmed.

“Wise up! We’re not the mafia, although I’d look pettable in an Italian suit.” Bask rolled his eyes. “I know Lysander’s a prick, but if you eavesdropped on him, then you’d know that he also had no choice on going on the missions or being in the academy. We’re all prisoners, see?”

Marcus’ hand tightened around the paper at his side. “Yet are some not more prisoners than others?” When he lifted the paper, the letters gleamed in gold. It was mesmerizing. “This is Letter Magic. It’s powerful and contains your truth. It’s a type of prophecy and riddle. It’ll also bind you and your magic to the reader of the letter, until they grant it back.”

“In Hecate’s name, don’t do this,” Magenta warned.

Marcus gave a small smile. “But you see, I don’t answer to Hecate.”

“Three unwilling assassins…” Marcus started to read; his voice was like a lulling echo beneath the mountains, and I could’ve slept forever beneath its power.

The words coiled sinuously like tiny dragons out of the letter, before appearing in the air above each of my lovers’ heads and then winding around their bodies.

Four unwilling assassins: the monster, the wicked, the sinful, and the innocent. They invade with collars and curses, but their life is held in the wings of the one, whom they’d capture.

The last of the dragon words coiled around Magenta and then faded.

Why did I get to be the innocent? That was only one step up from being the idiot or worse, the virgin because they were sacrificed to the dragon.

The paralysis broke, and my lovers tumbled to their knees.

Marcus studied them. “Your magic is bound to mine, so I don’t need the trap. Letter Magic is an ancient method of…controlling…the more unruly amongst us.”

“What a coy way of saying enslaving,” Magenta hissed, as Bask and Sleipnir scrambled to stand beside her. “This is worse than the collar.”

Marcus blinked. “I have never…never…used such magic before. Yet you come into my kingdom, my inner Court, my own study and… I am defending myself.” His magic reached out like wings behind him. Wow, he was going full on archduke. “Would you have me meekly bow my neck for you? Kneel? Beg to be punished…?”

“Never.” Bask was ashen and horrified.

Marcus gave a sad smile. “Then do not ask why you have driven me to such methods.”

Then he clapped his hands and my lovers vanished in a spray of gold embers.

I squealed.

Marcus looked down at me, fondly, and not at all like he’d just incinerated my lovers. “Funny creature, you do make a lot of noise.”

My eyes burned, and my heart felt like it’d burst from my chest. Could hedgehogs have heart attacks?

Bring them back…back…back…

Red blinded my vision, until my lips curled back in fury.

When Marcus reached to pat me on the head, I sank my teeth into his finger.

He gasped. “Fierce little thing, aren’t you?” He had no idea. “If your soft heart is concerned, I merely sent them to the dungeons.”

Thank every star in the witching heavens… Except, dragon dungeons didn't sound that reassuring.

I chomped harder on Marcus’ finger in retaliation, and he winced. Then I let go because I wasn’t a vampire hedgehog and yuck, coppery blood was more of a feast to Midnight, the Prince’s vampire whipping boy, than me.

Marcus dropped me onto the desk next to the collar, and I fought the instinct to curl into a ball. "Hmm, if you're hungry, I can have more appetizing feasts sent for you than my finger. Relax, you have nothing to fear now that the cruel Rebels are safely behind bars." It'd be funny how much was ironic about that sentence if it wasn't funny at all. "How about you transform back, so that we can talk leader to leader?"

Ehm, how about we don't?

I took a final deep breath, before bidding goodbye to my own furry tail. In a pop of glitter, I transformed into my human form on the desk. At Marcus' shocked gasp, I attempted to nonchalantly sprawl back in a way that the Princes would've been able to pull off or Bask (only, he'd have looked sinfully sexy).

I imagined that I looked more like a mage who was sweating under two coats and trying not collapse on my shaky elbows.

"Surprise...?" I offered.

"Last time we met, you told me that you were Emperor of the Foxes, little shifter," Marcus accused.

"I have an extensive resume. I'm also High Ruler of the Hedgehog Universe."

Who said that I couldn't learn from my mistakes? This time I was thinking big.

"Uh-huh?" Was Marcus smothering a smile? "Then High Ruler, even in these circumstances, I’m relieved to see you outside the prison."

When Marcus reached for me, I startled. But he only dragged me up, clasping me to his chest again. I relaxed into the bright burst of sweet Frankincense. It reminded me of the way that Bask had held me on my first day in the academy with his hand curled around my neck like he could protect me.

I hadn't needed the Power of Confess to know that was a lie.

What was this, death by hug?

Marcus' gentleness reminded me of his kindness, during his escape from Ambrose. He'd asked me to run with him. On my first night and terrified of what it meant to be the only mage whipping boy, I'd have accepted, if not for the brand that trapped me inside Rebel Academy's wards.

Marcus would've saved a stranger and offered him a place at his own Court. Yeah...a true beast.

"I worried for you, as I did for my dear brothers." Marcus' fingers splayed onto my hip. "I haven’t been able to sleep or perhaps, it’s that I should never have left. It was selfish of me to abandon any shifter in that place and chase after my own freedom."

My brow furrowed. "But I thought Sleipnir broke your collar?"

Marcus huffed. "Simply because your freedom is offered, doesn’t mean that you should seize it. Some things are more important like responsibility." He pushed me back, gripping my elbows. His burning gaze met mine. "Were you punished because you let me go?"

I would've shrugged, but he was holding me too tightly. "Pfft, what's a Discipline Run to the three times Champion of the Fox Marathon?" When he raised a disbelieving eyebrow (rude), I tilted my chin. "I'm okay."

Marcus' gaze softened. "You're not."

I shivered. I mean, did he own a Mage Bullshit-O-Meter because please don't let that fall into the hands of the witches. Although, I had a feeling that Damelza already owned one.

"I'm not," I conceded.

"Is that why they bind you in two coats?"

I glanced down at myself and snickered. So much for the imposing assassin. "My lovers were feeling protective. You know, the ones you locked up in that dungeon, and I can't decide if I'm hoping you have a kinky side or not because now I think about it, the whole sending them to your dungeon thing could end two very different ways."

Bad mouth, stop talking or you're banned from all Magenta shaped treats for the next...oh, I can't even pretend that I'd follow through on that threat.

Marcus let go of my arms in shock. "My motives are not dishonorable."

With a snort of sparking fire, Mist burst from the pocket of Sleipnir's coat. His eyes were wild with rage, while his mane was red spikes. He whinnied high and distressed.

"Do you all carry a smaller shifter?" Marcus demanded, bewildered. "Does a yet tinier creature ride this one?"

"We're a new toy: Shifter in Your Pocket," I muttered, attempting to calm Mist by stroking his mane. It wasn't working. "He's magically connected to Sleipnir's emotions. He must be pissed off and..."

I swallowed because Sleipnir never showed how wrecked he was, but Mist did on his behalf.

Marcus pressed his finger to Mist's neck, and his magic wound around him. "Sleep."

Instantly, Mist stumbled, closing his eyes and slipping back into my pocket.

"You killed the Shifter in My Pocket!"

Marcus shook his head. "He's resting. The Letter Magic gives me certain control. Your friend will not be sent to sleep, although considering what was planned for me, wouldn't it be fitting?" I'd sort of hoped he'd forgotten the whole kidnap...okay, I'd totally hoped he'd forgotten it. When his gaze shuttered, I hated it. "So, you came here with the witch on this mission?"

Lie: I'm not bothered. Whatever.

Truth: Et tu, Fox?

I crossed my arms. "What is it with people and names? She's called Magenta, and I love her. She loves me back, which is weird because I'm a shimage, and she should despise me. But she's not the same as my family or the witches who run the academy. And they were going to execute all of us if we didn't take this mission."

Marcus twisted away from me, taking long strides to a wooden pillar that was carved with orchids. He ran his thumb along it, tracing the way that they rose up like they were lifting the room to the skies.

"Ever since I became archduke and took on the heavy burdens of holding together this Court, this Orchid Study has been my sanctuary. It means quiet and safety, away from the pressure and fights between my family," he said, not looking up. "Yet even now you'd tear it away from me, as you'd tear away my freedom and return me to servitude."

I'd never had a sanctuary. How could it ache so much to miss something that I'd never known?

I couldn't take Marcus back unwillingly.

I think that I'd always known that.

My voice sounded steadier than I felt, as I forced myself to smile brightly. "That was before I knew you had this epic sanctuary. Now, if you'd just let the other Immortals out of the dungeon, then we'll return back to the academy, get a Fail on this mission, along with a spank on my furry tail and some corner time."

Marcus twisted back to me, and his magic pulled me into his arms. "They're going to execute you, aren't they?"

"Spank, place in the dunce corner, execute...what's the difference?"

"The difference is that you shall be dead, and it will be my fault." His breath was hot against my cheeks. "You must collar me and take me back."

Wow, I'd never felt so bad about succeeding before.

Marcus pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of my mouth. "I shall be fine."

Yet a rush of flames roared through my Power of Confess with such violence that I shook; it seared me, and for a moment, I thought that I was blinded. Except, it was embers.

Truth: The Empire will burn.

My chest was tight, and my pulse pounded. "And what about your Court?"

Marcus stiffened, before he wrapped me so tightly in his magic it was like being held in the heart of the sun. "My cousin, Lash, is not as interested in peace as me. When my brothers and I were snatched, he ruled in my place. I’ve been struggling over these last few days to hold together a kingdom that’s beset by criminal gangs, the Vampire Court, and deadly plotting. I fear bloody conflict if I disappear again, leaving my Court without its ruler. You see my choice? Yet why must an innocent die to save the warriors from burning?"