Pocus' eyes narrowed. "Do all mages talk bullshit?"
"Only the best ones." I tilted my chin. "Plus, Puss in...Nothing At All...I wasn't lying about loving wolves. My best mate was a werewolf."
Pocus stuck his nose in the air. "Pocus doesn't believe you. Oms are particular about their packs."
Before Magic, when I'd yet to experience the Kitten Incident, when my transformation into a Birman had led to my banishment, the family werewolf had raised me as much as mum. Most witch families collared at least one Omega to use as a slave. You were only meant to call them Omega (or Om) because in their culture as much as our witch one, they didn't deserve a name. Except, Glow had once told me that he had a twin, at least until they'd been separated and he'd become owned by the House of Jewels. His brother had been brave enough to name them.
I'd always thought that his brother must've been braver than me.
Once as a kid, when I’d been shaken by mum and then sent to the corner for running inside like I hadn’t even been trained in suitable male behavior, the Om had slunk to sit behind me, whispering to distract me from my disgrace. He’d told me the story of his twin, even trusting me by telling me his secret name: Glow.
There were many treasures in the House of Jewels (mum had worn so many blue diamonds every day that she'd glittered like a magpie's wet dream), but Glow's name was priceless.
He didn't possess anything else, and no secret had ever been worth more.
To repay Glow, I'd helped him...okay, lied...to save him from whippings. I’d found that I had a talent at being inventive with the truth, but also, that lies were safer than the truth. When Glow had found out, however, he'd pulled me into my bedroom and closed the door.
"You're only a cub." Glow’s soft Scottish voice had washed over me, calming me. He’d hugged me in a way that no one else, even dad, ever had. It was like he’d needed the gentle touch as much as me. "You don't risk yourself for a wolf. What kind of big brother would I be, if I didn't protect you?"
My breath had hitched.
Big brother?
Glow’s eyes had widened at his own daring. A werewolf who saw themselves as part of a witch's family and not a savage beast could be flayed. And that wasn't metaphorical. After all, I had a white wolf fur rug across my bed.
Glow had drawn back like he’d expected me to reject him, but I'd only wound my arms more tightly around his neck.
I’d never wanted to let go; he was my safety.
Yet after that, Glow had helped...lied...for me. Except, when he was found guilty in my place of breaking a vase or being at fault for my lateness, he wasn't put into the corner but whipped.
I'd beg Glow to stop taking the blame, but he'd only smile and pat me on the head.
"Wee brother," Glow would say, "you're pack. You’ll understand one day."
I understood now.
"My king is pack too," Midnight said with a certainty that made my heart beat faster. "He's a fellow whipping boy. We must look out for each other."
"Pfft, don't worry about it. He's just checking out the new boyfriend." I smirked, as Pocus' ears flattened to his head. "How about we all get to know each other? Like, are you a cat or a dog person?"
What was I turning this into, Interview with the Vampire?
Midnight's laugh was delighted and surprised even him. I wished to kiss the joy from the corners of his lips and down his throat. Then make him laugh again, as I sucked every one of his feathers.
"He's a cat person," Pocus hissed.
Truth: I will find you alone and make a pincushion of your balls.
I paled, before clearing my throat. "Okay, how about: What was the best kiss you ever had?"
Midnight's tongue darted to wet his lips, before his eyes became hooded. "I was hanging upside down, see, next to this mage. Then he kissed me, and it was like for the first time in centuries, the darkness lifted, and I could breathe again."
My own breath stopped.
Heat flooded me, and my cheeks pinked. I could feel Midnight in that moment again in Juni’s classroom, as cool as moonlight. His lips pressed to mine, and his soft wings wrapped around me.
I needed to touch him.
I brushed the tips of my fingers against Midnight’s. "Wow, the mage was that good…?"
Midnight's longing gaze met mine.
All of a sudden, my chair was yanked backwards and twisted around. Disorientated, I gasped.
Then I had a lapful of incubus.
Bask straddled me, pushing his crotch against mine. I wasn’t sending back the lapful of incubus, even if I didn’t remember ordering it, nor the way that Magenta’s arms wound around my neck from behind, and her head rested on my shoulder. The scent of the wild woods blew away the trapped earthy stench of Bacchus’ classroom, and I could breathe again.
Magenta pressed a kiss to the fluttering pulse in my neck. “We need you to settle an argument.”
“You know, I don’t think anyone has ever said that to me before.”
Now I truly wished that I’d been able to brush my hair for the occasion.
“Pocus is not surprised.” The Halfling flounced back to his corner, swishing his tail.
His attempt at the haughty exit, however, was ruined by the way that his balls swung on each flounce of his hips.
I tore my gaze away from Pocus with difficulty, studying Sleipnir, instead. Sleipnir strolled to slouch against the wall with a pretend indolence that wasn’t tricking me, since his hair was spiked to red and Mist snorted flickering smoke from his pocket.
They’d been arguing about something, and now I was the idiot caught in the middle…literally…while bound to a chair. I had an overwhelming urge to transform into Mr Fierce and roll into a ball.
I coughed, nervously. “Lay it on me. After all, I’m known as King Solomon, the Wise.”
Bask snickered.
Magenta’s hot breath gusted against my neck, and I shivered. “I’m certain that we’re lucky to have such a wise man as our lover. So, please help in our lively debate. I believe that we should forgive Willoughby for his actions within the gym and love him. I made it more than clear that no one would be allowed to hurt him.” Okay, there was her wicked voice; my prick took a healthy interest. “He’s dangerous, I’ll admit. But so are all of us.”
“Now I have the floor.” Sleipnir’s eyes flashed with protectiveness. “I’m a monster, and in the gym, I recognized another. It doesn’t matter whether we could love Willoughby. I don’t want him to dirty Magenta. If we take the killer elf, we’re wrecking him, the same as the fae.”
“So, I may be King Solomon but since I wasn’t allowed in Warrior Dueling, why do I get the sense that I missed something important?” I demanded.
“The elf hurt Magenta,” Bask explained.
Bask wriggled his ass against me like he could win the argument by his slinkiness alone.
“You won’t convince me by the power of your ass. But you will give me an embarrassing hard-on just before the professor arrives.”
Bask shot me a sly smile and wriggled again.
I groaned.
Was this the incubus form of ass torture? Although, I had a feeling that was a whole different kind of thing. Whatever it was, it was working.
“Away with you, the power of my arse could convince you into anything.” When Bask’s eyes glittered ruby, I gasped. He wasn’t wrong. “Don’t you desire the Princes — both of them — wrecked but not in the bad way, only all the best ways? I want to love them, Fox, but they’re not like you.”