Rosemary Johns - Rebel Academy - Crush

My pulse pounded at the threat to Fox. “And what if we simply run?”

Of course, it was a bluff. I’d found that I was rather good at those.

Even if I could escape, I’d never abandon my familiars, Willoughby, Midnight…or Lysander.

Who would’ve thought that I’d ever protect a fae prince?

Ambrose huffed. “Like the Crows didn’t think of that. You only need to imagine you’re back in the academy and you will be. But the magic of the Gateway automatically pulls you back within the wards after twenty-four hours, if you don’t return yourself. Then your whipping boy will be executed for your escape attempt.”

Fox batted the whip away. “Brilliant.”

Sleipnir’s voice was low and hard. “So, who are we hunting?”

I shivered. This was real. Could I become an assassin even to save Fox? When his wide blue eyes met mine in question, I forced myself to smile. I was lost to him and the other Rebels. I’d find a way.

Ambrose reached inside his jacket, pulling out a sparkling black bag, which was tied at the top with a cord. When he stepped towards me, I shied back.

“Stand still, daft witch. I need to hang it around your neck.” When I ducked my neck, Ambrose leaned in. He was shivering; I’d forgotten that Seelie Fae didn’t cope in the cold. Witching heavens, he must suffer, confined to this stable block. Carefully, he brushed back my hair, ensuring that the cord didn’t catch, as he tied a knot. His cheek was temptingly soft as it brushed mine, before he pulled back. “It’s a fae trick; Professor Crow would be displeased with me for making unapproved magic like this. You can tell her, but on my wings, I’d rather that you didn’t. It’s a Sleeping Charm. You only need to crush it between your fingers, and all beasts will fall asleep.”

For the first time, Ambrose appeared nervous.

“Why are you helping me?” I asked.

Ambrose shrugged. “When my son fell from the window and you caught him, you saved the most precious thing in the world to me. Ty is the only reason that I keep living. Plus, a fae pays his debts.”

To my shock, Sleipnir stalked to Ambrose and swung him around by his collar, tossing him into a snowbank. Then he pinned him down. Ambrose snarled, struggling beneath him.

Hot as their unexpected wrestling was, now wasn’t the time or place for it (which involved nakedness and oil).

“Do gods usually respond to gifts with violence because in that case you’re on the naughty list for Christmas.” I frowned.

Sleipnir glared at Ambrose. “By beasts he means dragons . Where’s the Gateway taking us, prince ?”

Ambrose's eyes shone with a mix of defiance and apology. "The Gold Court of the Dragons."

Sleipnir gasped, rearing back. "I will wreck you."

Ambrose slipped out a black collar from within his coat. I shuddered, stumbling forward like the dark magic within the collar was calling to me. The wretched thing was cursed. It burned through me. The metal was twisted into the shape of crows’ feathers.

"You're the swaggering bastard who thought that he could take this off Marcus and free him without consequences." Ambrose shook the collar, and Sleipnir became ashen. "Now Professor Crow demands that you travel to the Archduke's Court and kidnap him back."

Rayn blew a burst of golden fire out of the stall in protest. Perhaps, not a Snuggle Dragon , after all.

Bask stumbled away, shielding his face. I choked on the stinging smoke, as the other dragons blasted their protests as well, before covering my ears as Rayn let out an anguished screech .

I didn’t blame them, since their brother had escaped from the academy and now we were being ordered to imprison him once again.

"Take it from a fae who knows," Ambrose spat, "the taste of freedom you gave my dragon, will only make his suffering worse when he's back here or did you only care about causing mayhem?"

Sleipnir slammed his fist into the snow next to Ambrose's head, but Ambrose didn't flinch. "We're not dicks like you. I'd never trap another shifter."

Ambrose shoved Sleipnir off him with surprising strength, and Sleipnir tumbled back. Then Ambrose scrambled to his feet, straightening out his uniform. When he tossed the collar to me, I caught it automatically and then almost dropped it. The cursed magic flamed out, searing me.

How agonising must it be for the dragons to wear these collars?

"Then I'll take Fox to be walled up alive. Do you want to watch?" Ambrose snatched Fox by his arm. “After that, Professor Crow will break your necks one at a time.”

"Stop!" I called out at the same time as Bask and Sleipnir.

Yet Fox had remained silent. Would he truly die, rather than enslave another shifter?

Ambrose raised his eyebrow. "Don't waste my time. Will you take the mission?"

I bit my lip. There’d never been any doubt. My duty was to protect the Rebels. I'd spent too many years aching, alone, and desperate to save them.

I couldn't fail this new mage like I had Robin.

I clutched the collar to my chest. "Am I the wicked witch with the bounciest bosom?"

Ambrose rolled his eyes. " Aye to the bouncy and nay to the wicked. But I'll take it that you need this daft boy then." He hurled Fox on top of Sleipnir, who caught him in his arms. "Saddle up the dragons."

Bask’s eyes glittered. "Do you wish us to be roasted alive or thrown off their backs mid-air? We're the bad bastards who are going to kidnap their brother. Whose side do you think they're on?"

Ambrose clenched his jaw. "Feathery heavens, then control them!"

Sleipnir prowled to his feet, before helping Fox up. "This isn't happening your asshole way. But will...any...shifter do?"

Ambrose nodded.

When Sleipnir caught my gaze, he flushed. It pinked down his neck in a way that made me wish to lick it and trace down further to his chest and hard nipples. I longed to turn his shame to desire.

Why was my god anxious?

Sleipnir glanced down, playing with his fingers. " Please ," he murmured, and the aching desperation in his voice cracked my heart so deeply that I thought it might never be whole again, "still love me, when you've seen the monster."

Then he backed away from Fox with faltering steps, until he hit the back of the stable block. He closed his eyes, shaking.

What was happening?

Suddenly, I was both too hot and too cold at the same time. I wrapped my arms around myself. Was Sleipnir monstrous? Yet I didn't care; he was mine.

I hated that he didn't believe he could be loved.

In a blue spray of glitter, Sleipnir transformed into a giant horse with eight-legs. When I gasped, he ducked his head, whinnying sadly like I'd rejected him. He pawed the floor, swinging his head to face the stable roof like he could hide his ugliness.

Yet he was beautiful.

His mane and tail sparkled like crushed precious gems had been brushed through them. His coat was the same gorgeous aquamarine as his hair.

How had I ever called Mist a monster?

I was wicked because Sleipnir had been hiding a real Mist inside himself, believing that he was a monster, when he was truly divine.

Bask bounced forward like Sleipnir was a special gift just for him, throwing his arms around Sleipnir's huge leg, before jumping up and down to pat his flank. "Bad Slippy, keeping the big Mist hidden from me. Think of all the lost petting opportunities."

Sleipnir's head swiveled around in shock. His ears raised from where they'd been flattened on his head.

Fox laughed, sauntering to raise his hand for Sleipnir to duck his head and nuzzle at. "Sorry I don't have an apple or any industrial sized sugar cubes. Do you know, I was desperate to ride as a kid, but boys weren't allowed that privilege in the House of Jewels. Mum would have a fit that I was riding you. This is going to be brilliant ."