Rosemary Johns - Rebel Academy - Crush

It took a serious crime to be sentenced here. Most of the other students, whether bear shifters or warlocks, were brutal and deadly. I’d learned to act like I was twice my size, just to stop myself from being torn in half every time that I stood in line for lunch.

A vampire pure blood with his chin tilted up arrogantly, even though he was swathed in dark robes to protect his delicate skin from the sun, sneered at me. His fangs glistened.

I snarled at him because I was having one of those savage moments that broke Court Dictate 203: No snarling or growling. I took a deep breath and then growled for good measure.

The Court Fae had taken Radley, Felix, and me as Hostage Lords as kids. We’d been the youngest (okay, dispensable ), sons in our tribe. The Court had demanded that we be handed over and raised away from the forest, fostered at Court, and kept as a guarantee that the Rebel tribe would never raise up against the Queen’s Court.

If they did, then we’d be executed.

Of course, my tribe had still rebelled in what came to be known as the Love Rebellion . Yet the Court Fae had fostered us Forest Lords for so long that they couldn’t bring themselves to kill us. Instead, they’d sent us to the Wicked Reform School along with all the other male Forest Fae who weren’t yet twenty-five.

But they’d made certain to traumatize us first by slaughtering our brothers in front of us.

I bit my lip hard, struggling to breathe.

In and out, in and out…

My lungs burned with their familiar illness, as I fought for breath. Next to me, Radley stiffened, and Felix swept in front of me to shield me from the view of the ghoulish crowd.

“You’re okay,” Felix whispered. “We’ve survived because you’re strong. This doesn’t make you weak.”

Felix never let others see my sickness, which had grown in me since I was a kid. It weighed me down, settling on my chest and stopping me from transforming into my fae form. Something was wrong with my own magic, which attacked itself.

I truly was the worthless youngest son.

Radley pressed his hand gently to my chest, and at the same time, an unfamiliar scent like hot ginger warmed through me. My eyelids fluttered, and I sighed. The pain and tightness eased, and the attack ended.

Yet why did my magic feel more powerful and dangerous, rather than weaker after every attack?

My nose wrinkled. Where was the aroma of ginger coming from?

Felix gripped my hand. “We’ve still got about ten seconds before we’re called up to graduate , Quince. We can think of some way to escape, right?”

I raised my eyebrow. “It’s not as if we’re guarded by armed ogres, on a stage surrounded with bloodthirsty witches, shifters, and dwarfs (the dicks), in a warded reform school, so I’m sure that we can make a break for it...”

“Lord of the Sarcasm, you’re not cute.” Radley gripped me by the neck.

“But I am, right?” I leaned closer.

“Do you need a spanking?”

“Does anyone ever need a spanking…? Plus, who’s the boss here, Rads?” I raised one elegant finger.

Radley’s grip on my neck tightened. “Certainly not you, short wings. Has that pulling rank crap ever worked since we were kids?”

I cocked my head. “ Ehm , nope. But hope springs eternal, and when it does, there are going to be some changes.”

“Revenge is a confession of pain,” Felix offered with a shrug.

My smile was dark. “But it’s fun.”

“We could pray to Belenus…” Felix said, thoughtfully.

Belenus, The Shining God, was our Celtic God. He was sacred to the Forest Fae, and hated by the Court.

Would he even recognize a Hostage Lord with my illness as one of his people?

“Never pray to a god for help.” I crossed my arms. Quinn had taught me the cautionary stories late at night of the gods who were glorious but terrifying. “They’re not there to do what we ask them, and what if we don’t like their answer?”

This was our last time together. Our last chance.

My breath caught. I wouldn’t… couldn’t …say it. But we all knew it. “Whatever happens is the will of the forest. I’m honored that you’ve stood by my wing. I wish that I alone could die for you.”

“Don’t you dare say that,” Radley growled; his voice was suddenly rough with tears. “I’d burn the world to ash for you.”

“I don’t doubt it,” I said, softly.

Radley smelled of wood and rich leather, as I pressed my lips to his. My heart clenched, as he wrenched away his head.

“I won’t say goodbye,” he whispered.

My eyes smarted with tears. “I rather thought that I was attempting to say it with my lips instead.”

Radley huffed, but Felix snatched my arm, pulling me into a hug.

“I’ll find you after death,” he murmured against my neck. “They can’t part brothers in wings.”

I nodded, stroking across his shaking back.

All of a sudden, the ranks of fae began to beat their wings together like a drum roll. My heartbeat sped up — thud — thud — thud — to match its rhythm.

It’s here now… any moment Wells, the Head of the House, will call my name…

“The Marquess of Spring, Lord Quincey Spring, step forward. It’s time to judge the wicked,” announced Wells with a haughty flourish.

I pushed away from Felix, fixing on my Patented Sneer (see, fearsome fae ), and staring across at the Head of the House, the Duke of Wells.

Wells was a Court Fae, who I’d feared taking my lessons from as a kid because of his dreaded pop quizzes on etiquette, manners, and other things that’d made me want to blow a raspberry in his face just to see his stunned expression. He’d spent the last decade in this school, attempting to reform me.

As usual, Wells appeared as unruffled and elegant as if he was taking tea with the Queen, rather than waiting to find out if today was an execution, rather than a graduation. He was old enough to be our father, and acted like he was merely guiding us out of kindness. His smart military outfit gleamed in all black; his scimitar was neatly at his side. He was tall, pale, and as snootily perfect as a swan.

Was it messed-up that I wanted to wreck his composure, break that cool mask of his, and prove that I was still a Forest Fae?

Around the stage, the school was as elegant and neat as Wells. Fountains tinkled between manicured lawns and trees, as if this was an academy, rather than a prison.

Yet it didn’t matter how beautiful the setting, if the reality was your ugly death.

An execution could take place in a palace, as much as in a ditch.

I shuddered, desperate to smell the sweet scent of the wild forest just once more before I died, even though my memory of it had faded after so long away.

I missed the trees and my home like I’d been hollowed out.

If I was going to die today, then it’d be as a Forest Fae, and not a Court one.

I grinned. “You know, I’m not crazy about being labeled.”

The fae broke off their drumbeat in shock. Wells’ smugness wavered, and the crowd fell silent.

Okay, that wasn’t good.

All of a sudden, the spicy ginger scent wrapped around me again, and I stumbled towards it like I was mesmerized. When I looked up, I met the ruby gaze of a succubus.

Who was she?

The succubus was beautiful with golden hair that coiled like snakes, and a white satin dress, which fluttered around her as if she was licked by wisps of frozen flame. But I should’ve recoiled from her because she also wore the swan badge of both the House of Fae and the Queen’s Court. It meant that she was a new staff member, and I hated the professors who oppressed and controlled us.