Rosemary Johns - Rebel Academy - Curse

There were definite possibilities with that tongue.

Like a professor (and by the Norns, I'd make a hot professor), I tapped the board. "You're here because you belong with us. Can you help us win over Lysander?"

"You don't need my help for that," Willoughby managed, through his feathered kisses and licks down Magenta's neck, "you already have him, if you only knew it."

If that was true, then it meant that Midnight needed to be our focus.

Yet in a couple of hours, I had to fly in the Dragon Polo Tournament to save both Magenta and Fox. Even though I knew a secret code word to persuade the dragons to my side, the Princes had never lost.

What were declarations of love and friendship, when by the end of the night, I could lose my two lovers forever?

I marched towards the huge dragon stables. Their barred stalls were like prison cells. On the runes, Marcus' brothers were students just like us. The only difference was that they were treated like the monster I felt inside.

I reached for my pocket and the reassuring feel of Mist curling around my fingers, only to remember that I’d left him behind on my bed. He’d pawed the sheets, snorting flames in protest. But I’d be flying high above the academy tonight, and Lysander played dirty. Dragon Polo was dangerous, especially when your opposing team were Princes. Mist would have to suck it up: I’d protect him, at least.

Snowflakes twirled from the night-time sky like they were dancing to a silent song that played only for them. The stars were lost beneath the shrouds of clouds; the moon struggled to shine on Rebel Academy.

I slipped on slushy snow, cussing.

Magenta's curse was melting along with the wards. But not fast enough to keep Fox safe.

Valhalla! Melt faster, faster, faster...

I growled, shaking my hair to transform it to cinnamon red. Then I broke into a sprint, stumbling on the ice but not caring.

Faster, faster, faster.

My heart thud — thud — thudded , until my chest ached.

Fast, faster, faster.

My pulse thrashed in my ears.

Faster, faster, faster.

My breaths were ragged and shallow, gusting out ghostly in the cold. I skidded around the corner of the stalls. My lungs burned.

Fox had asked us to breathe for him. If I only kept dragging oxygen into lungs would that mean he'd live?

Fates, hear me, I offer up my breath for my lover...

I slammed my palm against the side of the stables. The bright pain focused me.

Why was love such agony?

Yet I knew that whatever happened tonight, I'd never wish away this wicked love, which made me give up my Soul for another. It burned more brightly than anything in my centuries of life.

It was as beautiful as a chaos moment, and I desired it just as greatly.

I straightened my shoulders. I wouldn't fail my lovers or this... thing ...that I found so hard to voice.

Did Magenta and Bask know that I felt it for them?

Did Fox?

When I glanced around, the yard was empty.

Perfect: no Professor Ambrose.

I prowled into the yard, scrunching my nose against the stinging smoke. I pulled my woolen coat more closely around myself against the cold. Then I narrowed my eyes at the rows of gleaming bridles, saddles, and spurs. I refused to use those torture devices on another shifter, but the asshole princes never missed an opportunity to dominate.

Well, today I had a secret that had nothing to do with conquering but everything to do with cooperation. Lysander would wish that he hadn't been such a fae jerk to Marcus. This was why I'd slipped out early before the tournament to secretly chat to Rayn.

I sauntered to a barred stall. "Hey, Rayn, petting time." Golden eyes peered back at me from the darkness. "Look, I know I'm not epic at petting like Bask but give me a chance. Bask says that my massages are a godly talent."

I held out my hand encouragingly.

Rayn snorted like laughter. Then he shifted closer to the front of the stall with an awkward shuffle of his bat-like yellow wings. I clenched my jaw; it must hurt him to be cramped in the small space. Ethereal magic fluttered around him. He pushed his golden head against my hand and then like he'd noticed my injured palm, he nuzzled against it in a dragon's kiss.

Yeah, he was seriously a dangerous beast who deserved to be collared.

"It was my own dickish fault." I wiggled my fingers. "I get kind of stressed and then... well you know how brothers are, right?" Rayn blinked in understanding. "You need and love them, Bor’s balls, they're your world. You're nothing without them, but no one fights with you in the same way. Yet if it wasn't for them, you wouldn’t be whole." I sighed, and Rayn considered me. "Was I an asshole to break your brother's collar if I couldn't free every one of you? Was it selfish of me to play the hero, when all I did was separate you?"

I was shocked by the sudden burst of magic, which wrapped around me, yanking me into the stall door.

Rayn wildly shook his head.

"Hey, calm down," I soothed like he was a skittish stallion. "By the Valkyries, I get it. If someone had my dad and me locked up, and offered to free only my dad, then I wouldn’t hesitate to take that deal. You don't want Marcus trapped again, right?"

Flames flickered from Rayn in relief.

"Marcus is lucky. You're a good brother. Loyal." Not like his asshole cousin, Lash, I didn't say. Marcus needed his other brothers back with him in Court, however, before his entire kingdom burned in civil war. "Damelza is determined to tame us Rebels like she's collared you. The families watching the tournament today are here to see that the students are broken, which makes them more dangerous than the witches." I stroked Rayn and realized that we were comforting each other. I licked the snowflakes off my lips, before lowering my voice. " Yellow orchid ."

Rayn reared back. His gaze was suddenly sharp. I hoped that this wasn't the point I became a barbecued god.

"Marcus told us that you'd fly willingly for us. Look, we have a plan to free everybody but we must win tonight. You don't want us to ride you and honestly, we don't want to ride you either. But if we don't, everything's screwed."

Rayn's eyes sparkled with a moment of clear understanding, before nuzzling against my hand in agreement.

My breath hitched in relief, and I patted his snout in thanks. "You won't be alone. I'm a shifter too. Seriously, I'd never ask you to do something that I didn't have the courage to do myself. Trolls tits, Dad would be ashamed of me if I didn't treat you as an equal and show the witches and parents up as prejudiced dicks." My lips curled into a smile. "Let's call this my Shifter Protest."

I didn't add that it'd wreck me to expose my monster to an audience. If it saved my lovers, however, then I'd break myself.

All of a sudden, I jumped at Disney’s sweeping, yearning "When You Wish Upon a Star", which played above my head.

Was my magical wish being granted? Was this a sign? Was... Ambrose's Disney obsessed son Ty opening his window above the stable and waving to me shyly from behind his drapes?

I couldn't help the barked laugh. Well screw me to Ragnarok, I must be desperate for a miracle.

I was the one who'd make my own magic.

I stepped into the middle of the yard, waving back at Ty. He was a fae boy with jade eyes and golden hair that curled behind his ears. He wore a plain coat and leggings that looked simply another type of uniform. Unlike other fae, however, he didn't have wings. Was that why he'd been imprisoned here with Ambrose? He was as much a prisoner as the dragons. Ambrose was punished, if the witches discovered that Ty had been seen.