My throat was suddenly too thick to speak.
What was I like? Virginal? Ignorant? Needy?
Panicked, I reddened because the memory of meeting Bask in the courtyard and the easy way that both Magenta as a ghost and he had kissed me (which had been my first ever kisses), and I’d melted into their love were the best of my life.
But what if I’d made a fool of myself? What was wrong with me?
Bask pressed his lips hurriedly to mine as if in apology. “You’re perfect. But the thing of it is that they need to be…”
“Awakened,” Magenta added, quietly.
Bask’s eyes brightened. “The Stop Game!” He reached across to poke Midnight’s chest. “Tell the Princes that we’re challenging them to a game tonight. If they refuse, then…”
“We’ll inform Damelza about their dumb plan to prank their tutor,” Sleipnir drawled. “I honestly can’t wait to find out what Juni does when she hears about their plans to melt her with a bucket of water above their bedroom door.”
Midnight drew in a shocked intake of breath. “You’d lie!”
Sleipnir shrugged. “Hello, I’m the son of Loki, god of mischief and mayhem.”
And Sleipnir called me a hardass.
Bask stroked one hand along Midnight’s tense shoulder. “Trust my slinky ass, it’s fun. Stop Game will bring out their hidden desires. Let us please them. I played it all the time in the incubi harem. Well, the other bonded did.”
I eyed Bask. “I’m filled with excitement to play it now.”
“Of course you are.”
Okay, that was a fail on my sarcasm.
“Sweet Pan, how about we stop all the talk of wrecking?” I pointed my chin at Sleipnir. “You’re all bristled up like a hedgehog impersonation,” Sleipnir flushed, “but you’d never follow through with it. Since I arrived, you’ve done nothing but help, comfort, and protect. Even Bask has attacked the Princes more than you.”
Bask puffed up his chest. “Fear the mighty incubus.”
I gentled my expression. “Of course, if Willoughby hurt Magenta, then how about I boot him in the balls? See, I’m the master of wise compromise. Just as soon as I can move my feet…”
Magenta’s arms tightened around my neck. “Was I unclear about the not hurting the Prince?”
“Just a little kick…?” I hazarded.
This was the problem with whipping boys being banned from lessons. It led to inequalities like not knowing whose bollocks to boot.
“You won’t damage my Princes,” Midnight’s voice was steely.
I twisted to look at him. Whoops. Why was he so loyal to Princes who forced him to crawl across snow or kneel for hours like a piece of school equipment?
Magenta met his gaze levelly. “I promise, we’re only trying to help everybody.”
Midnight ducked his head, and his despair blasted through my Confess in a sheet of black.
Truth: I no longer believe in promises.
“Hey,” I called to Midnight, who looked up, “do you still believe in oaths?”
To my surprise, he perked up with a shy nod.
I smiled back. “Then I, the great shimage of the House of Jewels, give you my oath—”
“Careful,” Magenta hissed.
I’d spent too many years being careful.
“…my oath to try to save even the dickish Princes of Rebel Academy, as well as you.” I raised my eyebrow. “Will that do, my knight?”
Midnight’s breath caught on my knight. I really should’ve learned more about vampire culture. Was that sort of like exchanging pet names or more like marriage vows?
Could I help the way that my heart leaped at the marriage vows?
“Thank you for bestowing your wisdom upon us.” Magenta feathered kisses down my neck.
Bask ground his ass against me like he was a snake and I was his prey. His version of thanking me would’ve been epic, if I hadn’t been trying to will down the hard-on tenting my pants.
I’d be bestowing more than wisdom upon him in a minute.
Prick, ignore the delicious incubus bouncing up and down on top of you…and the gorgeous witch…we will not be broken… At ease, prick, that’s an order!
Sleipnir crossed his arms. “My brother, Fenrir, says that if you compare him to a hedgehog again, he’ll put you over his knee.”
I flushed, and my pupils dilated.
“Call him Sonic, I dare you.” Bask brushed the back of his hand across my cheek.
Sleipnir’s eyes danced with mischief.
Sleipnir wasn’t my family, and this wasn’t the attic. He’d never whip me. I was safe.
Plus, I was tied to a chair. Good luck Sleipnir getting to my ass.
I balled my hands “Son—”
Sleipnir’s growl was cut off at the deep rumble that shook the room. There was the sudden aroma of mulled wine. I battled the panic that made my throat tighten, until I could only drag in quick, too rapid breaths.
Bound, I couldn’t even crouch under the lab tables like my feline side craved to. Next to me, Midnight stilled.
Out of the wall, branches of purple ivy coiled like sinuous vines to tangle into the outline of Bacchus. Then she stepped forward, and the vines formed fully into the shape of the Immortals’ Tutor of the East Wing, who was also the most brilliant American witch, who’d been hired by the academy to teach Spells, Hexes, and Potions.
I was at the professor’s mercy for the lesson, and as she strode towards me, her eyes flashed with fury.
Chapter Thirteen
FOX
When Bacchus stalked towards me like the unholy mix of an eruption of magma and an avalanche, my heart thudded in my chest.
100, 99, 98...
I forced myself to count back from hundred to calm myself. I was the whipping boy guinea pig in Bacchus' lesson. Magenta had made me soft. The way that her arms curled around my neck to protect me, rather than to hurt, had confused my Mage Radar.
Some witches were truly wicked. They also made me want to wet my pants.
Bacchus' purple dress, which was pinned at her shoulder by a moth brooch, swept across the floor. Her midnight hair fell to her waist in a silky veil. My breath stuttered, as she raised her arm, and a short iron spear appeared in her hand, which was covered in ivy and topped with a pine cone.
Magenta stood up, clapping her hands. "Ah, how charming. You wish to show off your wand again."
Magenta appeared to enjoy playing with both magma and snow.
I winced, but didn't take my gaze off Bacchus, whose cat-like hazel eyes swirled amber.
"Shall we see just what my bacchal thyrsus can do?" She waved her thyrsus at me
I was glad that wasn't a euphemism.
Then I yelped, as my chair spun around to face the front of the classroom, at the same time as Midnight's. The breath was knocked out of me. Bask tumbled off my lap and into a sexy heap on the floor. I'd never even known that heaps could be sexy.
"You've bruised my arse," Bask wailed. Then his eyes narrowed. "No one reduces the pettability of an incubi's arse."
Magenta crouched next to Bask, helping him onto his feet and circling his hip in a way that made the skin of my own hip tingle like I could feel her phantom touch; I longed to. "I assure you that you'll always be pettable to me. Bruises and all."