Academy for Misfit Witches

by Tara West

  The sharpness of her glare was so severe, he practically felt it piercing his chest.

  “Yes, but—” He stopped mid-sentence when it hit him. Dame Doublewart had disguised herself as Seraphina Goldenwand, which meant they’d failed in their mission. What fools they’d been! He slapped his forehead, wishing instead he could bang it against a wall. “Aw, fuck!”

  His brothers gave him blank stares, and he was annoyed with their stupidity. “She disguised herself as the fucking heiress,” he snapped.

  Flames lit in their dull eyes and they launched into a tirade of curses.

  “Boys, boys!” The headmistress waved. “Enough with the language.” She finished the beer and handed the empty bottle to Thaddeus. “It’s okay. I understand the need to overthrow that tyrant. He’s determined to war with the shifters. I can feel it in my bones.”

  Struck by a throbbing stress migraine, Hector slumped into a folding chair across from Doublewart, rubbing his aching temples. “We thought kidnapping Goldenwand’s granddaughter would give us leverage.”

  Doublewart snorted. “Kidnapping his granddaughter is a surefire way to start a war. How do you think shifters will fare against an army of wizards armed with the latest wands?”

  Hector couldn’t find the right words to answer that question. They hadn’t thought that far ahead.

  A visible knot worked its way down Thaddeus’s throat as he slumped into a chair beside Hector. “We were just following orders.”

  She gave them a pitying look. “You poor sorry idiots. Please don’t tell me you’re part of the resistance?”

  “They are the only shifters willing to stand up to the witches,” Hector said, but even he was doubting the sanity of the group’s leaders. Why had they trusted him and his brothers with the task of kidnapping the heiress, and why hadn’t they bothered to check in?

  “They’re reckless and dangerous, and the future kings of the shifter world should not be connected to a group of outlaws.”

  Great Goddess, she sounded like their parents. Hector hated to admit it, but maybe she was right.

  Bastian hung his head. “We’re sorry, ma’am.”

  Hector clenched his hands, claws extending and digging into his skin. He didn’t know if he was angrier with himself for foolishly entangling his family with the resistance or at his brother for capitulating so easily.

  “Really sorry,” Thaddeus added earnestly.

  Hector held his breath, afraid to release it lest he capitulate and apologize for wanting to save his species. Nathaniel Goldenwand was evil. Something had to be done about him. No good had come from his fathers continuously trying to make peace with the witches. Goldenwand had simply put more pressure on Parliament to restrict trade and commerce in The Grotto, reducing the shifters to beggars and thieves.

  Dame Doublewart eyed Hector for a long, tense moment, her gaunt face making her look like a ghoul. She was obviously waiting for an apology.

  Let her wait. She wasn’t going to get one.

  She caved first. “I’m only relieved you didn’t take the true heiress. Can you imagine the consequences of such an action?”

  “What do we do now?” Thaddeus begged, hanging on her every word like a pathetic puppy.

  “Now you take me back to school. We will tell the authorities it was just a prank, and you will be punished accordingly.”

  “But we haven’t received word from the resistance.” Hector fought off panic.

  She looked at him in astonishment. “Haven’t you heard a word I’ve said?”

  Hector wasn’t quite sure he was prepared to take on Doublewart. “Yes, but—”

  “Great Goddess!” she hollered, jumping to her feet and jabbing his chest. “If you three don’t start acting like kings, shifters are all but doomed.”

  The dragon inside him sprang to life and demanded he bite off her head. Instead he hung his head, and some pathetic wimp said, “Sorry, ma’am.”

  OVERRIDDEN WITH GUILT, Draque couldn’t even look his lover in the eye as he carried her through the maze of tunnels to the chamber he shared with his brothers. He flew close to the dark ceiling, so others wouldn’t see them. Not that it mattered. Her screams echoed through the caverns, making her sound like a banshee. About halfway home he realized he hadn’t handled the situation well. Actually, he’d fucked up big time, but between Katherine goading him, and Serah refusing to listen to reason, he’d lost his temper and let his dragon take over. He wasn’t sure how he’d clean up the big pile of dragon dung that was his love life.

  The flapping of his wings slowed to a dull thud as he neared their chamber. Serah had gone eerily silent. He chanced a look at her, hating himself when he saw her face streaked with tears. This wasn’t how he’d imagined courting their bride would go.

  Hovering above the door, he waited for Ladon to open it and then fell to the ground, cradling her close to his heart. He thought about setting her down after they went inside, but he couldn’t let her run back to Laden’s chamber when they had so much enmity between them. He had to find a way to make things right.

  “I will despise you for eternity if you force me to marry you. Is that what you want?”

  Stunned by her admission, he looked at her.

  “Brother,” Ladon said at his back. “Let’s all discuss this.”

  Draque thought of shifters suffering for decades at the hands of Parliament’s sanctions, introduced by Nathaniel Goldenwand. He hated himself for what he was about to say. “To prevent war, it’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.”

  Her eyes swirled with brilliant violet, blues, and greens, the colors matching the irridescent scales of her tail. “Release me at once,” she said in a voice surprisingly dark and powerful.

  An odd compulsion to do whatever she said washed over him. He blinked hard at her, loosening his grip, his knees weakening. When his dragon roared, he snapped out of the trance, holding her tightly once more.

  “Don’t try to use your siren voice on me.” With brisk strides he marched across the room and kicked open the door to his chamber, grunting when she swore and kicked at him.

  He kicked the door shut on his brothers. Pinning her wrists in one hand, he locked the door, ignoring the pounding on the other side.

  He pushed back a curtain and dropped her on his bed, which was a feather mattress and a mound of furs tucked in an alcove carved into the cave wall. This luxuriously soft bed had been made for loving. It was a shame Serah’s first experience on it wouldn’t be pleasant. He snatched the rope off the heavy crimson drape and grabbed her ankle when she tried to scramble away.

  “This is for your own good.” He made quick work of tying her up, barely missing a kick to the groin. “Enough!” he bellowed. “Even if you don’t want to prevent a war between shifters and witches, maybe you’ll care about your safety.”

  When her eyes shifted to a brilliant violet and her cheeks turned a rosy hue, he thought maybe he’d gotten through to her, but then she reared up like a cobra and spit in his face.

  “Let. Me. Go.”

  Her voice was even darker, and his fingers itched to remove her bindings. Instead he ripped off a section of drape and gagged her, hissing when she bit his finger. Shaking off the pain, he went back to the door.

  He flung it open as his brothers were about to rip it to shreds with extended talons. He gestured to their reluctant mate curled up on his bed. “She is to remain here until the betrothal ceremony. Do not let her leave.”

  Ladon gaped at him as if he’d just eaten his puppy. “You should’ve let me handle it.”

  Resentment welled in Draque’s chest at the censure in his brother’s tone. “You?”

  “Yeah. I could’ve convinced her.”

  Great. Now his brothers were angry with him, too. “Her little lamb?” A sardonic laugh escaped his throat. “You wouldn’t persuade her. She has you by the bollocks.”

  “We have a special connection,” Ladon insisted. “At least, we had one.”

  “Great godde
ss!” Smoke poured from Draque’s nostrils. “Would you listen to yourself, you giant twat? You’re hardly fit to be called a Firesbreath.”

  “You guys,” Teju interrupted. “Cool down.”

  Ignoring him, Ladon puffed out his chest, stepping up to Draque in a bold move. Draque could reduce his brother to ash in seconds.

  Ladon looked Draque over as if he was no more significant than the crusted dirt on his talons. “You think forcing women into submission makes me worthy of the name?”

  Extending a claw, Draque jabbed his brother’s shoulder. “Putting your people before your cowardice makes you fit to use our family name.”

  Ladon jerked back as if he’d been scalded. “So now I’m a coward?”

  Teju groaned louder and tried to get between them. “Stop this.”

  Draque pushed Teju away. “Your actions speak for you.”

  Draque saw Ladon’s fist coming too late. It connected with his jaw with a crack. Draque fell against a table, knocking it on its side and landing on one knee. Rubbing his sore jaw, he got to his feet.

  Ladon held his ground. “What about that action? What does that say?”

  Draque blinked, hardly believing Ladon had had the balls to hit him. His claws extended, and his dragon roared for vengeance. Throwing back his head, he released a stream of fire. “That you’re a dead man.” He plowed into Ladon, sending him flying across the room.

  Draque didn’t know why he’d expected Ladon to back down, but he bounced off the wall, smoke pouring from his lengthening snout as he readied to reengage.

  “Stop it!” Teju shouted. “This isn’t helping.”

  Ladon leaped into the air, his wings beating heavily. With a roar, Draque jumped up and slashed Ladon’s wing.

  With an ear-splitting howl, Ladon landed on Draque’s shoulders. Draque spun, whipping his brother off him, but not before Ladon tore a hole through his wing. Pain shot through him, and he fell to one knee, panting. Ignoring the throbbing, he got to his feet again, preparing to charge Ladon.

  Teju jumped between them, letting out a roar that shook the walls. “Both of you separate at once!” he hollered, horns sprouting from his head.

  Draque pointed at him, inwardly cursing when pain shot through his injured shoulder. “You are not alpha brother.”

  “I’m not going to argue with you, Draque. For Serah’s sake, you both need to cool down.”

  When he nodded to the open door behind them, Draque realized Serah had witnessed their fight. His back stiffened when he heard her loud sniffle. If she’d loathed him before, she probably hated him even more for fighting with her favorite brother.

  He said to Teju, “I’ll leave if Ladon leaves.” The thought of Ladon running to Serah for sympathy filled him with such a jealous rage, his head spun.

  “Fine.” Ladon threw up his hands. “So long as you stay the hell away from her. She’s suffered enough of your abuse.”

  Draque’s chest ached as if his brother’s words were barbed with venom. Unable to stand the censure in Ladon’s eyes a moment longer, he turned to Teju. “Are you going to watch her?”

  Teju smirked. “What do you think?”

  “Don’t take off her gag, do you understand? She will use her siren’s voice to escape.” He strode past his brothers, jarring Ladon’s hurt shoulder. Ignoring Ladon’s howl, he shifted, jumped into the air, and flew away without a backward glance. He didn’t know where he was going, but he needed to be alone, somewhere he could cool down and escape his brothers’ censure. As dark thoughts plagued him, he knew he’d never be able to escape his conscience. Ladon was right. He’d really fucked up this time.

  SERAH COULD HARDLY believe Draque and Ladon had fought over her or how bravely Ladon had stood up to his brother. If only she could just marry one brother, or maybe Teju, too, who’d tried so hard to keep the peace. But Draque? How could she ever marry a brute who’d not only bullied her but his brother? Not to mention, he was impossible to control. She’d hoped her siren voice would be effective, but he’d broken her spell. Maybe that’s why her mother and grandmother had tried to sacrifice her. She was a terrible siren if she couldn’t even master a basic compulsion spell.

  Draque had wrapped the gag too tightly around her mouth. Her hands were bound too tightly, too, which meant she’d have rope burn for sure. That fucking asshole. He clearly cared nothing for her. She was just another fuck, no doubt. She’d no idea how long he planned on keeping her tied up, but one thing she knew for certain—she wasn’t marrying him, and not just because she was not fucking ready, but because no way in hell would she call that steaming pile of troll dung her husband. She could only imagine how he’d order her around after marriage. No thanks. She dealt with enough condescending demands from her grandfather. She didn’t need to put up with it from a mate, too. Her thoughts turned to Grandfather, who’d also often made her life miserable. When she wasn’t at school, he disapproved of her behavior and told her what to do. Honestly, it was tiring. The week she’d spent with him after she’d been expelled had been a nightmare, so much so that she’d welcomed the idea of attending an academy for misfit witches, even if she felt her punishment was too severe.

  “Serah, are you okay?”

  Teju was bent over her. Rolling onto her side, she looked away from him, unable to stand the pity in his eyes.

  The bed dipped as he sat beside her. “Please don’t cry,” he said, smoothing a hand down her back.

  If only he knew she wasn’t crying because she was sad. No, she was pissed. Her eyes always leaked when she was furious, like the time her mother and grandmother had tried to sacrifice her. Her eyes had leaked for several weeks after that. It had nothing to do with being crushed by their betrayal and rejection.

  No way was she hurt by Draque, a stupid, selfish dragon who frustrated her too much for her to care about his opinion.

  “Serah, I’m so sorry. We never wanted this to happen. Won’t you look at me?” She stiffened when he tugged on her shoulder. “Please don’t turn away from me,” he pleaded.

  She winced when he reached around her, trying to hold her hand.

  He touched the rope burn on her wrist. “Draque tied this too tight. I’ll find something else to bind you.”

  As if that would make it all better. She stared at the dark wall opposite her. Hanging on it was a display of medieval weapons, or maybe they were kink toys. She wouldn’t put it past Draque.

  Teju tried to dig under her gag. “Damn. This is tight, too.”

  Rolling on her back, she blinked at him, then coughed to emphasize his point.

  Indecision was written in the lines etched into his forehead. “If I take off the gag, do you promise not to use your siren voice to compel me to release you?”

  She vehemently nodded. She’d still try to compel him, but only to get him to listen to reason. It probably wouldn’t do any good anyway.

  “Okay.” He quickly strode to Draque’s dresser and dug through the drawers until he found a bag of cotton balls. “Hang on,” he said and shoved them in his ears.

  So much for trusting her.

  He returned with cotton sticking out of his ears. She should’ve been grateful that he’d offered to remove the gag, but she’d still be a prisoner. Their betrothal wasn’t off to a good start.

  As he leaned over her, a talon extended to cut through the gag, she caught movement from the corner of her eye. She tried to warn him, but it was too late. She screamed into the gag when someone smashed a bottle over Teju’s head. Shards of glass sprayed her hair and face, and Teju slumped on top of her, a visible knot growing on top of his head.

  Eyes glowing red, Katherine came into view and rolled Teju off her. He hit the ground with a thud.

  Serah fought when Katherine dug sharp talons into her shoulders and blood pooled in the deep cuts.

  “How convenient.” Katherine laughed. “They’ve already tied you up for me. This makes killing you so much easier.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Doris Do
ublewart’s heart sank as she took in the ruins of her school. Every wall had been reduced to charred rubble, every desk turned to cinders, and there were no signs of life other than crickets and hooting owls in the nearby forest. She smelled the scent of fresh rain. Tears cascaded down her cheeks as she peered up at dark clouds, which looked poised to unleash a torrent on them at any moment. How could this have happened to her beloved school, and had her students and teachers escaped in time?

  She looked at Hector Firesbreath, who was still in full dragon form. “Did you do this?”

  His large golden eyes widened. “We didn’t do this, I swear. We only knocked down the wall to your office. Bastian did a reveal spell that showed us where the heiress was before he knocked it down.”

  “At least, we thought you were the heiress,” Bastian mumbled. “I need to modify the spell next time.”

  Dame Doublewart threw out her hands. “There will not be a next time!”

  “You had to have seen the school was still intact when we flew away,” Bastian said, lower lip quavering.

  Doris bent down and picked up a charred book, her heart shattering when it crumbled to dust in her hand. “I should’ve been here to protect them.” Damn those stupid dragons and their fool’s quest. If they hadn’t taken her, she could have defended the place.

  A tear slipped down Thaddeus’s long snout. “We’re so sorry.”

  She turned away, unable to look at him or his brothers. Whistling, she held out her hand, pleased when her trusty wand flew to her from the rubble. Turning it over in her palm, she noted it was smeared with soot but otherwise unharmed. Running her hand over it, she felt the magic and summoned the memory enchantment she’d placed on it after too many episodes of the mischievous Firesbreath brothers trying to steal it.

  She closed her eyes, and the wand told a story. After she’d been kidnapped, an ominous brick-hued cloud approached the school. Six translucent dragon heads appeared in the storm. An illusion, to be sure, but who would do such a thing? Though her wand couldn’t see what had happened to her lover or her children after the explosion, she prayed her teachers had been able to save the students in time.