Rosemary Johns - Rebel Academy - Curse

My chest tightened. “You’re not dead.”

“Quite right. I’m more like an echo. I’m not delusional, after all, I’m a magical enchantment, who’s trapped inside a book. Mama would’ve understood what it all meant or possibly, she only pretended to because it seems to me that there are any number of different kinds of ghosts. Yet I never thought I’d have a second chance with you, and that’s all that truly matters. I count myself lucky.” He peered at the blackened trunk behind me. “Where are we?”

“Our glade.”

“Then the years have been far kinder to you than Hecate’s Tree.”

Laughter bubbled out of me, in the same easy way that it always had around Robin. “To be fair to her, she was burned by mother. Oh, so was I, but when I was reborn, I was restored with what my lovers have assured me is enviably flawless skin.”

Paper Robin strolled closer to the front of the page like he could step right through it, and all of a sudden, I realized that he was shaking.

“Burned you?” He demanded.

“Did I not mention that part?” I caressed over the book’s spine.

“Well, at least we now know who’d win the Traumatizing Your Child to Death Award between our mothers.” But he didn’t stop shaking. “Funny how you didn’t mention your lovers either.”

“ Ehm , my what now?” I tried for innocent but I was far too wicked to pull it off.

He cocked an unimpressed eyebrow at me. “Don’t lie to me.”

So, was the shaking distress, anger, or both?

Ghost Robin cocooned me, and my magic sparked to meet the cold. Was his phantom touch stronger tonight or was it simply because we were once more together in the glade that connected us?

I took a steadying breath. “This modern age is different than I’d ever imagined. I’m different. Cauldrons and broomsticks, I loved you so much back when we were first alive that it was like a bruise that I couldn’t stop touching. I never thought that you’d see me as more than a friend, and if you never had, then that would’ve had to be enough. You were my best friend and… I can’t take back what happened to you because of me. On my Wickedly Charmed magic, I swear that when I knew you loved me too, I’d have chosen to marry you alone. But I had no choice .” I swallowed; his eyes gleamed, as he studied me. “Titus took it away. But now, I love other Rebels too. To them, loving each other is as natural as breathing. Would you be able to share our marriage bed?”

Paper Robin’s gaze softened. “Other Rebels like the one you almost pulled down the Academy to save…?”

Ah yes, he’d witnessed my magic bonding to Bask. He’d calmed me, controlling my powers.

I nodded.

“Pan’s balls, by asking you to wait for me, I didn’t expect you not to cherish and protect other Rebels. It’s what you did for me. Why wouldn’t they love you, like I do? I’ve always only wanted you to be happy. I’m not possessive like a fae.” Why did he have to mention fae? Golden wings, silky emerald hair, and blazing eyes that were the same color as Robin’s and yet so different flooded me. I craved them both . How could that be wrong, when it made joy that I’d never experienced before flow through me, lighting the glade with pink fireflies? “I was wicked for craving a single moment with you before, but now every moment that I’m granted with you is a blessing.”

I gasped, as Ghost Robin feathered frozen kisses down my jaw. I arched my neck to grant him access, and he slid lower, taking advantage.

How delicious would his cold feel next to Sleipnir’s heat?

“I’ve recently discovered,” I murmured, “how wonderful it is to awake in a warm tangle of your lovers’ arms. The Immortals call it knifing …or possibly it was forking …”

“They have an obsession with cutlery?”

I furrowed my brow. “ Spooning , that’s it. I rather think that they should rename it squirrel tailing because being cuddled in bed with so many, feels like being wrapped tight and safe in your tail.” I blushed. “I adored that as Mr Tailsy you could love me, and I could love you, even when we were only friends.”

By Paper Robin’s answering blush, I knew that he felt the same.

“You always treated me as a man, despite the fact that I was a shimage.” His blush darkened.

My eyes glittered. “I treated you like a man and a shimage. It was never despite anything. Mages aren’t my enemy, and witching heavens, my husband shall forever be my equal.”

Paper Robin’s radiant smile was worth everything .

Then a blast of wind tumbled the book to the side, slamming it shut.

My eyes widened as Ghost Robin’s outline appeared in front of me like a charcoal sketch with a flash of blurred oils — emerald eyes and burnished red hair. I reached forward, and the outline hovered backward. I scrambled desperate to touch — touch — touch . A cheeky smile hovered on his lips.

So, like that was it?

I laughed, chasing after Ghost Robin around the glade. His powers were stronger. I’d never been able to manifest, and I’d been attempting that trick for over a hundred years. Where was he gaining the energy from to appear to me?

When Ghost Robin twisted behind me, I turned too quickly and tumbled onto my back. He caged me beneath him within the cool band of his arms. The scent of sweet blackberries enveloped me like a coming home. I could taste their tartness on the back of my tongue. I longed to hear Robin’s voice, feel the tickle of his hair against my skin, and the heat of his warm hands. Instead, his lips blew icy gusts across my lips.

Closer, sweet Hecate, just a little closer, please…

His lips grazed mine.

All of a sudden, there was a golden flash in the branches above me. Through the charcoal outline of Ghost Robin, it was as if he’d been painted in by gold paint. I squinted in confusion.

I reached out, as if I could wrap my arms around his neck and drag him closer, but my hands only broke through cool air. I couldn’t touch him.

Ghost Robin’s eye’s gleamed with anguish, before he faded.

“ No, please… ” I clawed at the air, desperately.

Nothing.

Then Lysander swooped down from the branches, caging me with his arms, just like Ghost Robin had been. His wings stretched out, beating majestically. His heart thud , thud , thudded too rapidly; I could feel it through his shirt, matched by my own. His breath was warm against my cheek, when Ghost Robin’s had been cold.

Lysander had been watching me?

I could feel Ghost Robin’s loss beneath my skin, in the prickling of my magic, and in the aching of my gums.

Now a fae was in my glade, which had once been Robin’s and mine alone.

Yet why didn’t it feel wrong or a betrayal?

Lysander studied me, even as he shook like he was the one in distress. “So, you can even love a ghost…a memory…but it’s only my noble self, with whom you can’t bear to bond?”

“Perhaps courting rituals have changed, but stalking isn’t appealing to me.”

“Please, your incubus did nothing but stalk you. In fact, your Immortals literally brought you back from the dead because of their obsessive desires. How is my royal personage any different?”

I’d have been offended, if there hadn’t been such genuine insecurity threading underneath that question. Lysander’s wings curled around me, stroking over my shoulders. I shivered at their softness and the scent of cherry blossoms.

He was spring, hope, and predatory danger all at once.