Whoops.
The Duchess arched her brow. "He is very good at that."
Damelza coughed. "I'd noticed." I let her thumb go with a humiliating pop, before wriggling off her desk as sexily as possible (away with you, I could pull it off). "But as positive attitude is today's motivational saying, I'll offer a choice. Crave can obey and abide by the Duchess' decision on Sunday, or I cast the spell again (without the finger sucking), and I may as well make this official by punishing your whipping boy. Walling up alive is the traditional punishment."
"Please, don't..." I didn't even have to think about my answer. I couldn't let them hurt the other Immortals. I'd never let them suffer for me. "I'll obey, behave, bond... I'll do whatever you wish as long as you leave the Rebels alone."
The Duchess nodded, approvingly. "It appears that I need to offer you an apology, Damelza, your methods of taming are effective." She glanced around the room. "Even your castle is tamed."
This time, when the Duchess' tail curled possessively around my neck, I didn't move away. I knew how to take pain, and if it saved my lovers, then I'd beg to burn.
Chapter Six
SLEIPNIR
As the son of Loki, I've witnessed both the monstrous and the wondrous. Often, they're one and the same. Just as frequently, I've searched them out, despite the fact that dad and I were hunted by witches and the immortal followers of Bacchus.
We should've hidden, frightened of our own shadows. But I kind of don't follow rules. I loved the world, even if the world feared me.
Yet Magenta has never feared me. She believed that I wasn't a monster, and for her sake, I pretended that it was true. Yet she'd been lost somewhere between worlds; I'd been able to feel it tingling through my magic like the veils were blowing across the back of my neck.
Omens and runes, that was never good.
Why couldn’t it’ve been her cool breath instead, which never failed to harden my dick in my pants? My balls had even ached at the thought of thrusting between her thighs, as she rode me like the animal I was.
Thor’s cock, it wasn’t like I had to hide it anymore.
Even when I'd sensed Magenta return, it was muted like the Rainbow Bridge had been painted gray. I shuddered at Odin's reaction if Loki had ever played that trick.
Whatever was happening, I was stuck locked in the Immortals’ West Wing bedroom with Fox. I shook my cotton candy pink hair out of my eyes, which fell in gentle spikes. In my anguish about Magenta, my brother Jormungand had risen to the front of my personality tonight. As a triplet, I loved my brothers, but when I was already battling to deal with the fact that Magenta and Bask were missing, it was harder to cope with their struggle over my mind.
I was wearing the academy striped pink and black silk pajamas but I liked to pull off a rebel vibe even in bed, so I rolled up the shirtsleeves to show my muscular forearms; shimmering sea serpents coiled around them like they were alive.
Jormungand was out to kick someone's ass.
I booted a pillow off the bed in frustration and then was glad…just for a moment…that Bask wasn’t there to witness my pillow abuse.
This was a chaos moment.
It called out to me, even from the World Tree. The urgency to seize the event that could change everything thrummed through me. But I couldn't even break through the spell that trapped me inside this freezing bedroom.
As if at my thought, the braziers blazed higher with pink fire, warming me. I turned my cheek towards it. Shadows danced across the stone walls and plain wardrobes and desks. My books were strewn in haphazard piles across the floor, mingling with Bask's. The thought of the gorgeous incubus wrecked me.
Valhalla! I couldn't lose him like I'd lost Hector last term.
Mist, the miniature horse with eight legs who Magenta had transfigured in class out of my plectrum and her black mists trotted along my shoulder like it was a balancing bar. He shot out sad flames on each exhale. I couldn't hide my emotions now because they were shown to the world in Mist's reactions.
I'd been connected to death all my life, just like dad. Yet straddling the line between worlds wasn't the same as watching people that you loved die.
I had loved Hector, hadn't I?
I mean, not in the same I shall love him, even after death intensity of Bask. But Bask didn't seem to be able to love in any way that didn't include throwing his heart at someone's feet. It made him almost as vulnerable as Fox, who'd spent his life trapped in an attic by his dick family and aching for someone to even notice him. Fox would throw himself at someone's feet to be loved.
I didn't need love...or friendship...like they did. I'd lived with dad and my brothers who existed inside me for so long that my heart was as much mist as Magenta was.
I sprawled on the vast bed in the center of the room, which I should've been sharing with all the Immortals. A satin pillow dug into my back, which also should've been Bask's because he had a freaky obsession with nesting into or hoarding them. I'd once opened the wardrobe to find two stuffed at the bottom. Bask had winked, calling it his Emergency Pillow Fund.
When I grabbed my guitar, my pajamas rode up to reveal a pale strip of my stomach. Fox opened one eye like he was checking me out.
By the Norns, a cat could look at a god.
Fox was transformed into his white Birman form with fluffy fur and a long tail. I'd tried to stroke the crooked tip earlier, but Fox had wrapped his tail around himself like I'd overstepped some kind of Cat Code. Perhaps, there was a feline version of the Incubus one with rules about mice and feathery things, rather than shiny hair and pettable arses.
Huh, I seriously hoped not.
The way that I'd cooed at Fox hadn't helped, but then, he was adorable. Now, he was curled up on Nile like it was a Bask substitute. I'd tried to sneakily replace the crocodile with a pillow, but Fox had hissed at me.
On fear of Valkyries, when Bask discovered white fur on his plushie, it wouldn’t be my ass who was held responsible.
I strummed my guitar, and Mist perked up, sliding down to fit into my pocket. I didn't cope well either with being caged or feeling powerless. Loki had spent my childhood teaching me to scheme because hoping for the best was a fool's hope.
So far, he hadn't been wrong.
Almost like my fingers had found the chords without my knowing it, I played R.E.M's "Everybody Hurts". Fox shot me a sardonic look (I was learning that he had an impressive ability to communicate in shifter form, even if his fluffy shifter ass was trash talking). The music was raw and intimate, however, and held hope for me that my lovers weren't lost. It was nothing but emotion...heart...and I clenched my jaw, as it washed over me.
Hey, I could do pining and obsessive love the same as Bask or Emo angst like Fox. It was just that my guitar spoke for me.
I screwed shut my eyes. Where was Magenta? What had happened?
Damelza had burst back into the Bird Turret room at the end of Strategy Class without either Magenta or Bask. Ezekiel had been so shocked that he'd raised his angelic wings in an automatic display of dominance and protection, stepping in front of us students.
There was no way that an Addict Angel, ex-Rebel, and male Professor was permitted to act like that towards the witch Principal. I'd shuddered at the thought of her clamping chains to his wings as she had to Ambrose. To my shock, both the Princes had stepped in a protective semicircle around the Professor at the same time as us Immortals. Both sides had eyed each other warily.