Rebel Academy: Crave: A Paranormal Academy Romance Series (Wickedly Charmed Book 1)

by Rosemary A Johns

  Fox hugged his arms across his chest. His voice was small, “I don’t want to be special. I just want to be me.”

  “You could ask why any of us.” Sleipnir’s eyes narrowed, as he studied me.

  Fox stroked across the back of my hand. “You’re the one who makes me —”

  “Hard? Wild with lust? Desperate to pet?” I bounced up and down on my toes.

  I’d bet that it was one of those.

  Fox smiled, fondly. I wasn’t used to that. “Feel safe and loved.”

  My breath hitched, and my vision became dangerously blurry.

  Sleipnir ducked his head. “Of course, the powerful son of Loki has nothing to do with this magic.”

  Fox rolled his eyes. “My power’s screaming that you know you’re connected to the dead.”

  Sleipnir raised his head. “My dad’s the one with that power. I can just see the places that the living and dead walk the line. It’s kind of obvious that Magenta needs all three of us, and that we all care about her. So, let’s enhance the pleasure.”

  He raised the goblet and took a deep swig, before raising it to my lips.

  I’d been taught about this by my ma: peer pressure. I was an incubus, which meant that I was already a walking aphrodisiac. I pressed my lips tightly together.

  Sleipnir raised an imperious eyebrow. “Think how intense this will make the experience. Aren’t you a romantic, Bask? Don’t you want to rescue your lover?”

  I only took a sip of the thick liquid, however, because an incubus didn’t truly need aphrodisiacs like a non-incubus, otherwise we’d end up with R.I.P Drowned in Cum carved on our headstones. The liquid tasted sweet like chocolate but then burned with the aftertaste of fiery ginger. As Fox downed it like it was beer, I choked at the searing hotness.

  Instantly, my soft worn out dick twitched in my pants, before springing to attention. I groaned, scrambling to drop my pants and let my dick jump free like an angry throbbing pole.

  I stared at Sleipnir and Fox who’d done the same next to me, but were bent over groaning in pain. Whoops…this looked less like pleasure and far more like the pain that the Duchess would train me with, and the others were less used to it than me.

  Maybe Serenity had overdone the co-co?

  “Orgasm coming up!” Serenity purred.

  To our collective horror, the door to the Rebel Café crashed open, and Juni Crow, who was Damelza’s daughter, our professor, and the Prince’s tutor, stalked into the room. She was a slenderer version of Damelza with short sculptured hair that was bound underneath a woven cap of feathers, and sharp pointy features that would’ve been impish, if her eyes had danced with less malice.

  Right now, however, her eyes danced with astonishment.

  With our pants around our ankles, us Rebels backed against the wall like we were before a firing squad. I didn’t know of any execution where you had a dick so enlarged that you couldn’t even hide it behind your hands.

  I shuddered, and my balls drew up. I needed to come.

  Not now…not now…not now…

  I could tell by their strained expression and shaking legs that Sleipnir and Fox were waging the same battle.

  “When you didn’t return after the Discipline Run, my mother sent me to find you.” Juni’s gaze ran dispassionately over us. “Does Professor Bacchus know that her precious Immortals behave like whores? I’d cast a Shaming Hex on my Princes if they hid in corners with their cocks out.”

  I’d been jealous of the pampered Princes wing (Sleipnir told me that they had silk sheets to make nests out of and at least three times as many pillows), but their tutor made me twinge with sympathy for them, and that was a weird new sensation.

  “We had a bet,” Fox bluffed.

  Pathological lying was a definite turn-on.

  Don’t think about his cuteness… The Duchess in suspenders kissing Damelza…

  I shuddered, just managing to push myself back from the edge.

  “A Dick Bet,” I shrugged my shoulder. “It’s the sort of thing that guys do, you know: my dick is longer than your dick.”

  “More girth,” Sleipnir panted.

  “Prettier,” Fox added.

  Juni stared at us unblinkingly. “Who won?”

  “I did,” we all chorused together.

  Juni’s cheek twitched, then she marched closer, batting at our hands. I protested weakly but I didn’t dare move because if she even breathed on me…

  Dick, are you listening? This is my stern voice. You do not have permission to come…

  “I wonder if the Princes play these games?” I didn’t like the gleam in her eye. The Princes were our rivals in the academy, but I was sure that Juni only played the role of the indulgent tutor, whilst being as cruel as her ma. The Duchess had pulled the same trick. Juni scrutinized our dicks. “The incubus wins.” Of course. I grinned, but it faded at the way that her eyes lit up. She tapped my chest. “What’s the forfeit for losing the bet?”

  “The losers have to ask a witch for a kiss,” I smirked.

  Sleipnir gasped in outraged horror.

  To my surprise, Juni smiled. “Well, pucker up.” She leaned closer to Fox as if to claim his lips, and he eeped. “My mother’s in her study. Why don’t you see what happens when you go and ask her? I’d love to see the Immortals start term transformed into frogs. Damelza has been planning such delightfully agonizing hexes.”

  I was about to co-co-come…

  A pearly arc burst from my pulsing dick like a gleaming fountain, before falling onto Juni’s shoe. I screamed more in pain than pleasure, collapsing against the wall. My release started off a chain reaction: Fox came longer and harder even than I had (that’d teach the whipping boy about downing potions), and Sleipnir shook, bent over, through his orgasm.

  At last, when I was able to look up through my eyelashes, Juni appeared frozen in shock.

  Uh-oh…

  “Next time you do that, you’ll be licking it off. Clean yourself up and get back to the West Wing.” Juni turned, sweeping out of the café like three Immortals hadn’t just come on her shoes.

  To be fair, the witch had class.

  Sleipnir bumped my shoulder. “Kiss a witch…? That’s the volley in what I promise will be an epic dick war.”

  “Get on with you, we all want to kiss Magenta.” I glanced around. “Are you here Magenta?”

  Surely, three super-powered orgasms at once was enough? If we were batteries, we’d be shining bright to summon a ghost.

  But I couldn’t sense Magenta. There was no smell of yew trees, icy tickle of wind, or feeling of protection and yearning.

  “It didn’t work,” Fox whispered.

  I wiped my tacky hand on my stomach, biting my lip.

  “Why would I let some ghost in here?” Serenity’s voice was sly. “I only allow authorized Rebels. This has to be a safe space or how can you relax? As your Stress Counselor, I’d also like to point out that what you just experienced registered as pain, rather than pleasure.”

  Sleipnir yanked up his trousers so quickly that I winced on his behalf. “Trolls balls, why didn’t you tell us?”

  Serenity replied smugly, “You didn’t ask.”

  “She’s jealous.” Fox fumbled to cover himself. “Can magically intelligent cafes get jealous? Okay, I’m having an AI moment here.”

  “Of course, she’s jealous.” I ran a hand over my arse just to check that it was in perfectly pettable condition. “That’s the curse of being so slinky. But how do we summon Magenta now?”

  “Who feels like a walk at midnight into the forbidden Dead Wood and then a picnic at Hecate’s Tree?” Sleipnir asked coolly.

  “Honestly, you’re not selling it to me.” Fox met my gaze. “But I remember the freaky tree that appeared in the mirror. If she’s trapped in it, then I’m down with the plan. But no potions. Let’s make the pleasure real.”

  I nodded.

  Hecate’s Tree was sacred to the witches. Tonight, we’d break a serious rule in Rebel Academy:
never go into the Dead Wood.

  Chapter Eleven

  Rebel Academy, Sunday September 1st

  Magenta

  If there was one thing that consoled me about my ghostly existence, it was that it proved life could always be rewritten. I’d never guessed that I’d discover a second chance at love after my death.

  After all, I’d gone a little crazy but I wasn’t so conceited that I’d have dreamed the Immortals would offer me their hearts, calling me with a bond that screamed home, home home… I too craved each of them with a brutal desperation, longing to show them the love that had slumbered inside me for over a century, as I’d been trapped between the veil of life and death.

  Now, as I watched in shock as the incubus, god, and my sweet mage traipsed into the glade that was silent apart from my fizzing magic, laughing and joking like it was a field trip to Hecate’s Tree, I realized one thing: they were just as crazy as me.

  Had they no idea how many rules they were breaking or how harsh the punishment would be if they were caught? Didn’t they understand how much they should be shielding Fox from the dangers of the academy? Then I stiffened.

  Cauldrons and candles, had even Robin’s death been forgotten?

  I swung on a high branch of Hecate’s tree above the Immortals’ heads. Echo and Flair flapped through the night sky, moving as shadows across the pale moon, before landing either side of me.

  Flair smoothed his ruffled feathers with his beak. Then he peered down at the Immortals, who were laying out their coats, before settling uncomfortably on the charred earth.

  Flair whistled. “Well, fuck me.”

  I wish that I had such a way with words.

  “They came for you,” Echo said, wistfully.

  My breath hitched, and my nails bit into the withered branch. I’d been desperate for anyone to remember me, but I didn’t want them to endanger themselves.

  I was already lost, wasn’t I?

  When Sleipnir peered upwards, catching my eye, I almost fell off the branch. He winked, before pretending that he couldn’t see me again. I grinned at the charming god’s antics.

  “Stop thinking with your cock lane,” Flair grumbled. “These idiots are about to get their bollocks hexed off.”

  “Would you awfully mind not referring to my flower as my cock lane?” I arched my brow.

  Flair’s pink eyes glittered. “I apologize for the vulgar term, boss. Stop thinking with your quim, muff, cu—”

  “Hold your peace and listen,” I hissed, flushing.

  Down below in the glade, the Immortals sat in a circle on a nest of woolen coats, shivering. A single tied tea towel rested between them. Sleipnir set a crimson candle at the base of Hecate’s tree, before lighting it. The flame flared a sizzling magenta, before dying down into a wavering specter in the dark.

  Sleipnir watched the flame with an odd intensity, before glancing back at Bask.

  Bask rested his hand on Fox’s neck in a casual gesture of protection. “We’re at the heart of the academy. Can’t you sense…?”

  “Hecate cursing the bravest but dumbest mage of his generation?” Fox looked up and down the tree like he was weighing up an opponent. Bright boy. “Forbidden. Dead. Sacred to witches.” He counted off each point on his fingers. “Do you have any idea how much trauma you’re creating in my mage psyche, unless this ritual that we’re about to do involves slicing my neck as the sacrifice?” His eyes widened. “Okay, I take that back. This neck is steel; the knife would just bounce off…”

  My familiars cawed raucously in unison. I swooped lower. There’d be no sacrificing of mages in my glade.

  Bask snorted. “Get on with you, just feel it. Magenta doesn’t wish blood, only love.”

  I hovered above their heads, suddenly breathless. How did Bask seem to know me? Why did they all feel as familiar to me as family?

  “Strip.” Sleipnir sat back on his heels, rifling in the pockets of one of the coats.

  He pulled out a charm bag, which glittered with stars.

  I shivered, as the hair raised on my nape. I ached to touch and be touched by Sleipnir again, and it’d be awfully nice to see my mage naked for the first time.

  I admit, they were possibly as familiar as lovers, rather than family.

  “You know that I adore your commanding voice,” Bask gazed at Sleipnir through half-lidded eyes that had warmth curling through me, “but it’s freezing, Slippy, and there are no blankets to snuggle.”

  Sleipnir’s expression gentled. He was even more handsome when his eyes became soft like that. “Omens and runes, I swear that it won’t be for long, and I’ll find a way to keep you warm. It’s for the ritual. Hey, I know that this is a long shot, but we have to give this the best chance of freeing her.”

  Freeing me…?

  Sleipnir had made that promise beside the frozen lake, but that’d been before the Rebels had discovered who I truly was. I hadn’t wanted to deceive them. For once, I’d wanted the truth to be seen. Unfortunately, I’d never attempted to communicate as a ghost before, and the mirror hadn’t withstood my power. I winced at the thought of injuring Fox.

  So, were they attempting to free me back into life or free me from my ghostly existence and finally, allow me to die in peace?

  My breathing became too rapid, and I sank lower and lower.

  I wasn’t ready. After all this time…not ready. I collapsed with my arms over my head. If I died, how could I protect the mage?

  “Breathe,” Flair sounded panicked and very far away. “Why does an infernal ghost have to fucking breathe or else she does this fading trick?”

  “I don’t care, mate. I just need my Magenta.” Echo’s wings curled around my back.

  All of a sudden, I could smell the sweet woodsy scent of white sage smudge sticks burning: the start of the ritual.

  I raised my head, cautiously.

  Sleipnir had lit a red candle, which channeled passion.

  Sweet Hecate, let them be sacrificing their pleasure to free and then love me because all I desired was to love them.

  Moonlight drifted through the canopy of the trees, draping like delicate veils across the beautiful limbs of the naked Rebels, as they sprawled in the center of the glade. Sleipnir glanced over his muscled shoulder at me; his hair was candy pink tonight, and sea serpent tattoos wound around his arms. As I watched, the coils of the tattoo wound higher and tighter. Sleipnir’s smile was shy and concerned.

  I blinked. Ah, the huddled and shaking thing.

  I straightened onto my knees like I’d simply been studying some fascinating fauna on the (scorched) woodland floor. Echo sighed in relief, before perching on my shoulder, and Flair thwacked me around the head with his wing.

  It was a delight to have such faithful familiars.

  I watched with genuine fascination, as Bask bounced up and down (it wouldn’t be ladylike to say how much I enjoyed the sight of his bouncing prick), as Fox started to untie the tea towel.

  “The feast before the sacrifice is the only decent part of this plan.” Bask bit his lip. “Feed me.”

  At last, Fox undid the knot, and the flanneled towel fell open to reveal the food inside. “Ta da!”

  They’d planned a picnic…? My Rebels had sneaked out at night from the castle, broken the rule to enter the Dead Wood, before violating the sanctity of Hecate’s Tree, and now they were going to merrily scoff a picnic?

  I grinned. Robin would’ve loved them.

  Sleipnir scanned the pile of squished sandwiches. “Well, that was underwhelming.”

  Bask petted Fox in comfort.

  Fox shrugged. “Do these hands look like they were trained in petty thievery? This was all I could steal from the kitchen that you shoved me into.”

  “If it pleases you, did you see the Princes’ salmon, cupcakes, and special chocolates…?” Bask asked, hopefully.

  Fox huffed. “All the luxury stuff was locked and warded in this separate larder with the sign: KEEP OUT, PRINCES ONLY. THAT MEANS YOU, IMMORTALS.”


  “What kind of jerk would put their name on food?” Sleipnir sneered.

  “Well, my first guess would be the Princes.” Fox grinned with sudden glee. “But look: I made crisp sandwiches.”

  He picked up a sandwich, biting in with a sharp crunch. Then he munched on the crisps with an orgasmic sigh, which made me cross my legs.

  Sleipnir stared at him. “My life is complete.”

  Fox took another large bite. “This is salt and vinegar in buttery white bread. It’s the food of kings, my Norse friend.”

  Grudgingly, both Sleipnir and Bask munched on a sandwich.

  I shook my head. Forget the danger of Damelza, the witches, and the academy, the Rebels were in dire need of my picnic etiquette skills. On that alone, I had to find my way back to them. Where was the basket, napkins, and cutlery? I remembered my own picnics in these grounds with delicious roast beef, cucumber, or banana and sugar sandwiches, meat pies, and cakes with cream fillings.

  Oh, and never forget the tea…

  “You’re drooling, boss,” Flair muttered.

  Echo hopped onto my head and then bent to stare me in the eye. “Are you having another flashback to your life again because it was boring the first time, and I know that you don’t want to relive it.”

  Blushing, I shook him off my head, and he flew to a low branch with a series of rattling clicks.

  When Fox wiped his hands on the tea towel, a hush fell on the glade. The candle was a bright point in the dark, focusing the magical energy, until it pulsed at the base of the tree. The intoxicating scent of white sage wound around all of us, binding us together.

  “Should we pray?” Fox’s tongue darted out, wetting his dry lips. “Except, I’m a mage, and there’s a risk that if I pray to Hecate, my balls will be struck by lightning.”

  “We can’t have that.” Sleipnir appeared to be struggling to hide his smile. “There are different ways to complete the ritual and sacrifice.”

  Sleipnir pulled out some of the technology that Echo loved so much from the tangle of coats, before a modern song burst out, filling the glade with more lust and longing than I thought was possible in music alone. Gently, each of the Rebels kissed each other in turn, before Bask pulled Fox to his feet and swayed to the music like his soul was part of it. Fox wrapped his arms around Bask’s neck, whilst Bask laid his head on Fox’s chest. Their pleasure and love fed me, winding me higher, until sparkles lit the glade, brighter than any candle. As Bask rubbed his hips against Fox’s, I swallowed thickly. Shaky, I skimmed my hand along my jawline, before pressing it to my throat; my pulse fluttered underneath my fingertips.