Apart from his rebel prick.
Almost like it knew that it was betraying me, my foot tapped up and down on the floor.
Tap — tap — tap.
I'd been trapped in a single room from the moment that my mum had discovered I'd had magic. I couldn't take being ensnared again. Last time in class, I'd been able to see Magenta, but now I could only hear her whispers.
I needed to smell the sweet scent of her yew trees winding around me and not the earthy scent of Bacchus’ magic that suffocated me.
Magenta...
Tap — tap — tap.
I was desperate to call out to her. But what would she think of me if I panicked over something as simple as being tied down? Sleipnir was a bloody god, and Bask was brave and protective.
What was I?
A hedgehog with anger management issues? A cat with more funk than fight?
The Mage who Loved…
Tap — tap — tap.
My breaths became short and fast. Light-headed, I banged my head against the back of the chair again, yanking my ankles against the restraints. Bruises blossomed.
Then Midnight pushed his knees against mine, and my startled gaze shot to his. "I promised to hold on for you, my king," his voice was gentle with a Welsh lilt, "and so you must hold on for me."
Truth: If he's forgotten his promise to me, then I'm worth nothing.
With my Power of Confess, the truth of Midnight’s despair hit me in a sticky black wave. I shook with its intensity. I could never allow him to think that I wouldn't help him or my own Magenta shaped meltdown meant that he was worthless.
I'd spent too many years thinking the same.
My breath steadied, and my expression became steely. I bumped my knuckles against Midnight’s because if I couldn't kiss away the crease of concern between his brows, then I could at least soothe him through my wriggling fingers. "Hey, my Memory Palace is better than Sherlock Holmes’; it even has a jacuzzi, private cinema, and an entire wing for my harem of Tinker Bell impersonators." I bit my lip. "Ehm, just don't tell Magenta about the harem bit."
Midnight nodded, solemnly. "By my fangs, I'll keep your secret."
"And I'll keep my oath." I lowered my voice, willing Midnight to believe me. He belonged to the Princes. Theoretically, he was a rival. But then, how many theories had been disproved? I could smugly declare that I didn’t believe in the crazy theories of being able to write on the moon in blood or that my sexual mojo controlled the universe (although, I wished that it did). Yet today, I'd have to battle against Midnight to win this class and the Rebel Cup. If I did, then my life would be saved, but Midnight's wings would be broken. I shuddered at the thought of a single feather being harmed. "Magenta's brilliant. She has a plan to free us all. But I don’t know how long it will take. Can you put some more faith in me? I swear on my prickles that I'm working on saving you."
Midnight ducked his head, and a blush spread across his cheeks. "You don't need to swear on your prickles, see. We're already bound to each other, and I trust you and my future queen."
Wow, he truly meant that he saw Magenta and me as his king and queen.
It came of being a pathological liar, but I'd pretended to be royalty more times than I had rooms in my Memory Palace, and no one had ever believed it before. On the other hand, Midnight had chosen me for the role, and that made a grin spread across my face that was as warm as the feeling in my chest.
Until two heavy hands landed in my lap, dangerously close to my balls, and I yelped, as their nails dug into the sensitive flesh of my inner thighs.
"Why would you trust a mage, especially one with all that curly hair?" Pocus, Bacchus' Halfling and familiar, hissed.
I shivered at Pocus’ predatory danger, which was hidden under the softness of his voice. Also, at the insult to my hair. After so many years without the ability to look in a mirror, I was suddenly desperate to run my fingers through my curls. What was wrong with them? Bask insisted that they were pettable.
Pocus rose up on his knees, shoving his face close to mine. He scrutinized me like I was Midnight's new boyfriend and I had to pass the test before I could take him out. Pocus was a lithe Korean vampire with striking black eyes and equally black ears that poked out of his mop of hair.
He was also naked and way too close.
"How long did you spend grooming your hair today?" I raised my eyebrow, and Pocus’ tail swished furiously in response. "Why should I trust a cat that looks like K-pop is missing its greatest star? Wait, I saw you perform on TV. Aren't you the cute new member of BTS?"
Pocus' eyes flashed, and his claws extended. I shivered with claw envy.
When he lowered his claws towards my crotch, I tried to shrink back. I knew now why I hated being tied down: you couldn't protect your prick from Halfling attack. I should add the policy to health and safety.
"Don't hurt my king." Midnight's voice was hard. "It's not worthy to attack someone who can't fight back."
"What he said," I mumbled.
Pouting, Pocus retracted his claws. Then he rested his head on Midnight's lap, rubbing his ears against his thigh, before offering a single lick across the head of his prick as if in apology.
Hey, it'd been my prick that he'd been threatening to slash.
"I'm guarding you." Pocus nuzzled closer.
I'd only been allowed to see my dad, cousin, and family werewolf in my confinement. But none of them had been able to guard me. In fact, we'd all been surviving in our own ways together. I was happy that Midnight had found another vampire in the academy, who'd been able to become a friend and protector, even if he was a psychopathic cat.
As a fellow cat, I resented his feline villainy. I was classifying him as my pussy nemesis.
I couldn't help the grin. I'd never had an animal nemesis before. I'd been missing out.
Midnight's expression softened. "You don't threaten my friends. You wouldn't claw Om just because he's got curly hair, would you?"
I perked up. I'd been wondering about the werewolf, since I'd seen him on my first night in the academy, caged in wolf form beside Hecate's altar in the courtyard. He'd been lonely, and I'd sworn to free him, just like I had Midnight. Plus, the pretty white Omega werewolf had curly blond hair in human form like me.
Now all the cool boys would want it.
I preened, and Midnight's eyes danced with an unexpected fondness.
Pocus blinked up at Midnight, wriggling his ass guiltily. "Om's our friend, and he has silky hair."
"Try out the mage’s," Midnight offered like this was one of Aquilo's sister's swingers parties, and I was being offered around as a favor.
"No freebies," I yelped.
Things had become officially weird...okay, weirder...okay, kind of nice. I melted, as Pocus carded his fingers experimentally through my hair.
Pocus cocked his head, sitting back on his heels. "Silky but not as silky as Om's."
Bastard pussy nemesis.
"Whatever. It’s not like I haven’t won the Silkiest Hair ribbon for the last two years anyway. I normally wear pigtails to show them off, but with it being Torment Thursday, I wanted to give off more of a warrior vibe." I attempted to shrug but then remembered that I was tied down. I pretended that I was simply rolling my shoulders. I pulled it off. "Anyway, I'm known as the Wolf Lover, which is kind of like the Wolf Charmer, only it means that all wolves love me. Your Om will become my friend by magical charisma. It's fated."