Fox’s smile was strained. “More like, behind my balls. And haven’t I introduced myself? I’m Merlin.”
Damelza only leaned closer. “Then it’s a good thing that I have both you and Aquilo by the balls. No one’s getting through the wards, even if they’re Merlin…or a god. And your cousins have one of those tamed. The angelic god rants and flaps his glittery wings, which I can’t wait to pluck.” I flinched at the same time as Fox. “If they don’t take the hint and leave, then I’ll have to decide that they’re all Rebels. I’ll lower the wards, allow them to arrogantly waltz in here and then…” When she clapped her hands together, Fox and I both jumped. Damelza’s eyes glittered maliciously. “I’ll raise the wards again, and they’ll be trapped the same as any Rebel.”
“Please, don’t,” Fox gasped, before promising in a rush, “I didn’t ask them to save me. What do you want me to do?”
Damelza’s smile widened. “Write them a letter. Tell them how happy you are to be here and how much you don’t want to leave. If you’re lucky, they’ll respect that. You love your family, don’t you? I thought that the one talent you at least excelled in was lying.”
Fox’s eyes were bright with tears. I quivered, glaring at Damelza. How dare she use Fox’s power against him to tear him apart from his family.
How many families had tried to take back their children or changed their minds only to discover that it was too late? I’d always thought that the Rebels were abandoned here but perhaps, the House of Crows had tricked just as many people to make it look like that?
My eyes became flinty, as I studied the way that Fox lowered his head before Damelza. Discovering the academy’s secrets had shot right up my To-Do list, just beneath surviving the start of term.
“They’ll work it out,” Fox said, quietly. “Aquilo knows me too well.”
With a flourish, Damelza snatched a peacock feather off her desk, before grabbing Fox’s hand and rubbing the feather over it. “The effect only lasts a few minutes, but now you can only tell the truth.”
“With my hand?” Fox ventured.
Damelza clutched him by the wrist, wiggling his fingers in the air in front of him. “Whatever you write here, they’ll see in front of them and know that it’s the truth. So, be creative.”
Fox swallowed, before glancing to where I leaned against the wall. He could sense me. I curled out strands of mist to wrap around his ankles, although it did look weirdly like he’d walked into a hag’s cave, but it appeared to anchor him. Then even though his face was etched in grief, he wrote in curling script:
My Principal’s allowing me to write. It’s magical, I’m sure you can tell, so I can’t lie. It’s odd like a tugging on my brain when I try. Normally, it’s frowned upon, okay, seriously forbidden, to have outside contact, except with the person who registered you for the academy. The Principal doesn’t like you being here because I’m settling in.
Today, I start my classes. Warrior Training is the first lesson, but I can’t take part in that, so my first real lesson is Spells, Hexes, and Potions. And yeah, I know that’s a mouthful. Apparently, the students call it SHP, but I just sound like a robin when I say it. I’ve made some friends already who truly look out for me. I’ve even met a witch who’s sexier and kinder than any witch I’ve met before.
Aquilo, I’m free from the attic. We never thought that would happen, right? I’m not kept in a cell and I haven’t been whipped even once. I went on a picnic, and I never thought that would happen again.
Please, don’t try and break me out because it’s dangerous. I need to learn to be independent after so long locked away.
I love and miss you…
Fox’s finger wavered, shaking so hard that he could no longer write. His face was wet with tears, and when I reached up to touch my cheeks, so was mine.
Locked in the attic? Happy that he hadn’t been whipped? I shuddered at the thought of the life that Fox must’ve led before, if the academy in truth meant freedom to the mage.
I flew across the room, ignoring Damelza, who slunk back around her desk, sinking into her chair with a satisfied nod.
Fox hugged his arms around his middle like he was hugging me.
“Is that everything? Would you like to cut out my heart as well?” Fox muttered.
“Not just now; hearts are always harvested at the full moon.” Damelza rifled through the papers on her desk like she hadn’t just torn Fox apart. “Well, go and wait for your classmates to be finished in Warrior Training. Remember, you’re the whipping boy. If I were you, I’d make sure that I won every lesson because if the Immortals lose the Rebel Cup, you’ll die.”
Chapter Thirteen
BASK
Warrior Training was deadly for an incubus whose arse was slinky, sexy, and not for kicking. I’d been trained in diplomacy. Ma had never intended that I wield a sword, but rather that I use both my body and words as weapons. But then, she hadn’t intended that the Duchess would choose me to bond with either.
Good intentions made pettable arses out of all of us (snicker).
When Bacchus pulled me aside before class, with a sweep of her toga that trapped me against the side of the building, I drew in my breath. The rough stone of the Conqueror Gym bit into my back, and I squirmed. The breeze cut across the frozen river and my cheeks. The spires of Oxford always looked so close from here.
Was the tutor going to punish me for sneaking out of the Wing, my part in stealing the food, entering the Dead Wood or… I cocked my head.
Yep, I was bad.
When I smirked, Bacchus narrowed her eyes. The aroma of spicy red wine coiled around me, as she casually leaned closer. Pocus wound over her shoulders like a scarf, blinking at me sleepily.
“I made a mistake to forget that a panther lurked beneath your cutie pie mask.” She stroked the back of her hand down my cheek, and I fought not to flinch. “I concentrated on the mage, when it was the witch that I should’ve feared.”
“Don’t hurt Magenta,” I hissed.
Bacchus’ eyes widened in surprise. “Why would I do that? And why would you defend a witch? She’s the Prefect, and we have a whipping boy now to play with.”
I gritted my teeth. “If it pleases you, just punish me now, so that I’m not late to class.”
Bacchus blinked. “But you haven’t displeased me, Crave.” I couldn’t fight the way that warmth flooded me at pleasing her. It was simple biology like waking up with a boner. Never turn down a pleasure feeding. I was certain ma used to say that, or I could’ve made it up. Either way, it was good advice. “You’ve surprised me, and that’s always thrilling. The Immortals now outnumber the Princes, which tips the balance in our favor, but the stakes are much higher. Trust me, there’s a joy in the dark, and Magenta overflows with it.”
I frowned. “Stakes?”
Pocus yawned, and Bacchus patted him on the head. “Whichever side loses, will have their whipping boy executed.”