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

by Rosemary A Johns

  “You’re a pain in my witchy behind,” Damelza muttered, “and this isn’t Magenta who was declared Blessedly Charmed. It’s…” She paused, thoughtfully, “…Crow, who’s decidedly Wickedly Charmed.”

  “How about a DNA test?” Fox demanded.

  Damelza’s smile was dangerous. “How about a fox hunt?”

  I snatched Fox’s hand, dragging him closer to me. His heart was thudding too rapidly in his chest, but he still squeezed my hand like he understood that I needed to feel that I wasn’t alone in this battle.

  I shook at the thought of Robin walled up in the dark. How long had he been alone before he’d died?

  When Fox’s thumb rubbed circles on the back of my hand, I wished that I wasn’t wearing my gloves, so that I could feel the deliciousness of his touch. I loved that in this age there was such intimacy and that it could mean love in so many ways: comfort, understanding, and connection.

  I craved to feel alive.

  When my stomach rumbled again, I pinked. Fox’s scent of raspberries was driving me mad. I couldn’t touch him with my hands, but I wasn’t living in the Victorian age any longer, and I had other body parts that were unclothed. It hadn’t been possible to live with Flair and his vivid descriptions of the Rebels’ passion and not learn a trick or two. When I nuzzled my cheek against Fox’s, he flushed. Then he relaxed against me with a soft smile. Encouraged, I nosed along his jawline. Then I had the sudden impulse to lick down his neck.

  “Mages aren’t lollipops,” Damelza chided.

  I froze. “I’m simply hungry.”

  For the first time in over a century, I could eat. For all these years, I’d been tormented by the memory of food that I’d never taste again but now… Oysters, roast duck, cranberry tart with cream, and a cup of tea…

  Fox sighed. “Only the Princes get treats like lollipops.”

  My dream feast shattered.

  On Hecate’s tit, hadn’t Fox said something in the glade about the luxury food being locked away in a special larder? I clenched my jaw. No matter how much I desired those treats, I’d never ask the fae prince for a favor. Although, there was also Prince Willoughby, and if Flair’s crush was based on more than the elf’s pretty hair and prettier voice, then perhaps there was a way to persuade the Princes to share their food.

  I wouldn’t let my Immortals be starved any longer.

  I delighted, however, in the chance to try Fox’s specialty and the food of kings: a crisp sandwich.

  “I’m about to say something that breaks every one of my beliefs.” What in the name of Hecate was Damelza about to tell us? Had she changed her entire outlook on mages? Had the bravery of my men broken her prejudiced view that the Rebels were broken? “The mage is right: you should become an Immortal.”

  Well, baby steps.

  Fox ducked his head, but I didn’t miss the way that he was struggling to smother his smile.

  The small brained mage had just outfoxed the Principal.

  “This is your sentence and punishment. I hope that you’re overwhelmed with the shame of becoming the first witch (and one of our prestigious House), to become a student here,” Damelza scolded.

  “Oh yes, I’m quite ruined…the shame…” I gasped, holding my hand against my forehead as if I was about to faint.

  Fox held me up around my waist and hid his snicker against my neck.

  “Don’t think to escape.” Damelza held up her finger warningly. As if I would without my lovers. “It’s against protocol to ask Hecate to brand a witch, but if you decide to go for walkies, I’ll simply punish the whipping boy who you like to lick.”

  I straightened, stiffening. I’d seen the shrewd look, which Damelza was using to assess me, before on mother, as she’d studied Robin and me.

  Damelza would exploit my attachment, and it’d destroy me.

  I pushed away from Fox, despite his hurt expression. “He’s not my whipping boy.”

  “Since I’m appointing you Prefect of the Immortals, you’ll find that you’re in fact responsible and in charge of both the Immortals and the whipping boy who they’re patron to.” Damelza’s lips pinched. “Crown is the academy’s only other Prefect, so you’ll have to work closely with him.”

  “Crown…?” I asked.

  “Prince Lysander.”

  “No,” I barked, before I could stop myself.

  “No, you didn’t curse the academy so that I spent my childhood shivering, the boys here freeze in their Wings, and we all wade through nothing but snow and ice because of you…?”

  I shrank against the wall. She was right. My power in its loss and grief had done that.

  I’d condemned every Rebel and witch to suffer alongside me.

  Damelza’s fingers tapped on the armrests. “Just one more thing. Crave is special. The Duchess who was once bonded with him is my guest this week and will be inspecting him to see if the sharp shock of his time with us has helped him see the errors of his rebellious nature, which means that he must remain unbonded and pure.”

  The breath caught in my throat. Who was this Duchess? If she’d once been bonded to Bask, she certainly wasn’t now. Yet she wanted to inspect him like he was still her property?

  Was she attempting to claim him back?

  Fox stared at Damelza. “Pure, as in: we can’t touch him?”

  Damelza’s expression hardened. “We must respect incubi culture.”

  “Why?” I hadn’t seen Fox’s gaze so steely before. “I don’t respect some bitch who thinks that she owns Bask. Loving someone won’t make him dirty.”

  Damelza yawned. “Your self-righteousness is tiring, Confess, I’m bored, and your brands have already been set so that you can’t touch him.”

  Fox gasped. “But he’s an incubus. It’s torture for him not to be touched.”

  “The Princes have offered to massage him so that he can still function.” She waved her hand. “A separate bed has been added into the West Wing.”

  I eyed her. “How charmingly naïve that you’re prepared to simply trust me.”

  Damelza snorted. “I wouldn’t trust you, if you shaved your head and became a devout acolyte to Hecate.”

  Damelza clicked her fingers, and I shrieked, as an electric charge hit me, vibrating across my skin. My legs buckled, and I fell to my knees on the thick carpet.

  Vaguely, I heard shouting (Fox defending me just as if he was Lancelot, although without the sword), and at last the hex stopped. I shuddered, and even my gums tingled.

  “Just a little something that I developed last night to keep you at least three inches apart from Crave at all times, otherwise you’ll be given an electric shock. Look but don’t touch; you should be used to that,” Damelza crowed. Dazedly, I realized why she had shadows under her eyes. She must’ve stayed up last night working on the spell, which had already seeped through my skin and into my bones. It felt heavy and wrong. “Now onto the whipping boy’s punishment because I don’t want you to miss your first classes.”

  “Woah, I thought that I was the one with the bright idea…? Why don’t we say this has all worked out and give that student a reward?” Fox flashed Damelza a winning smile.

  Damelza pushed herself up, pressing on the wall behind her, which slid open to reveal a trophy: The Rebel Cup. I’d watched from the window of the Bird Turret, as it’d been presented below in the grounds at the end of the first week each term. It was a huge obsidian trophy, which was in the shape of a dragon. The dragon’s tail wound around the cup and back into its flaming mouth.

  Fox whistled. “I was only expecting a gold star.”

  Damelza caressed the snout of the dragon. “The Rebel Cup is a cherished tradition. To the parents of the Princes, it’s a cause of great pride if they win. Every day, either the Immortals or the Princes will win a contest, and at the end of the week, the overall winner will be awarded the Rebel Cup at the Dragon Polo Tournament.”

  How many times had I wished to be allowed to be part of this tradition? But now, dread pooled in me
at the creepy satisfaction in Damelza’s smile.

  Ah, the advantages of thinking like a witch.

  “So, I’m banned from taking part?” Fox rocked on his heels. “Yeah, I’m heartbroken. How about I take my sobbing self back to the West Wing?”

  “On the contrary, yours is the most essential role.” Damelza’s fingers closed like claws around the Rebel Cup. “Curse and you, the whipping boys, have just become the stakes.” Her glance at me was triumphant. “As punishment for resurrecting Crow, whichever team loses the contest, shall have their whipping boy executed.”

  Lightheaded, my vision dimmed. I staggered, as I forgot that I needed to breathe.

  I couldn’t have been brought to life, simply for the mage to die. I couldn’t cause another’s death again.

  My legs melted into mists and then my hands. This time, however, the fading was my choice. A cold wind blasted through the study, tossing my file like paper crows furiously across the room and pecking against Damelza’s face in retaliation. Fox watched in awe. Damelza waved her hand, and the wall closed with a snap, shielding the Rebel Cup.

  “I’m terribly sorry,” my eyes glowed with raging flames, “but you shan’t hurt either whipping boy.”

  I thrust my black mists to crush Damelza, but she shrugged them off like they were nothing but a summer breeze. I stared at her in shock. My strength coursed through my ghost form. Was she truly so much stronger than me?

  My word, that was frightening.

  “The professors wear charms, so that we can’t use our powers against them,” Fox muttered. “Her Anti-Me one is the feather in her hair.”

  Deflated, I drew back my mists.

  Damelza chuckled. “The Anti-You one I also invented last night and cast on all the professors. I’ve always been especially talented at charms. Is your tantrum over now?”

  “I won’t permit you to kill him,” I growled.

  “Hecate above, are you as dim as the mage?” Damelza sighed. “If you wish him to live, then win the Rebel Cup.”

  Fox sidled closer to Damelza. “Look, this is my punishment. I’ve been a bad fox, I get it. But why drag this other poor bastard into it? Couldn’t he just be put into Time Out or something if the Princes lose?”

  For the first time, Damelza’s smile was genuine. “See, you’re learning already. Curse is a pathetic excuse for a Fallen, but the Princes appear to take pleasure in the games that they play with him.” I shuddered at the same time as Fox. “I’m in a generous mood. If they lose, I’ll only break his wings.”

  Why, my family were truly the spirit of generosity.

  “Cheers, you’re a saint,” Fox gritted out.

  “Now, I have private business with Confess.” When the study door clicked open, Damelza’s chuckle was dark and low. “It’s time for you to fade out.”

  I yelled in shock, as I was blown out of the room into the stone gallery beyond, before the door slammed in my face. I caught a final glimpse of Fox’s pale face, before he was shut in alone with the Principal.

  Outraged, I banged on the study door, but I had a feeling that even that had been muted.

  I’d been turned invisible yet again.

  Then there was a sudden hoarse cawing at the open windowsill, and joy hit me so hard that I struggled not to cry.

  “I thought that I’d lost you.” I rushed to sit next to Flair and Echo who hopped onto my lap. Echo rubbed his head against me with as much desperation as I stroked through his feathers. “How can I still see and touch you?”

  “Now isn’t that the question, boss. But I’m happy as a pig in shit that you can.” When Flair pecked my finger, I knew that it was as close to a kiss as he could get.

  I cuddled Echo tighter, and he wrapped his wings around me.

  “Would you’ve forgotten us like everybody else?” Echo asked, softly.

  I bit my lip. “Never. Who’d forget your superb singing voice?”

  When Echo preened, Flair snorted.

  “So, are you human now?” Flair asked.

  “I’m something that’s caught between the living and dead, only this time I’m closer to the living side.” I scrunched up my nose. “The Rebels weren’t dreadfully experienced with magic, and resurrection is a tricky business.”

  Flair’s scaly claws bit into me, as he circled in my lap looking for a comfortable spot to settle down. “Does that make you a zombie?”

  “Do you want to eat brains?” Echo offered, helpfully.

  “Mother once had pigs brains served for supper.” I shivered. “It was most unpleasant.”

  “If you have no craving for brains, why aren’t you riding those Rebels and letting your bouncy bosoms out to have some fun for the first time in…forever?” Flair demanded.

  “Firstly, I’m magically unable to even touch Bask. Secondly, Fox is trapped in there with the Principal, and thirdly,” surely, I deserved a little boast, “a Prefect does have duties, you know.”

  “Hark at her, la di da!” Flair fell onto his feathery back, kicking his legs in a way that was disconcertingly close to his wanking impression. “Just give her a Prefect badge and suddenly it’s all: where do you want me to bend over, ma’am?”

  “There wasn’t a badge,” I muttered. “In fact, I don’t even get a uniform.”

  Echo stroked his wing along my cheek, and I leaned into the touch. “My Magenta hasn’t changed. I trust her.”

  I glanced back at the closed door. Damelza thought that she could tame me with a couple of spells and charms. Yet my magic ran through the entire academy. From my birth, it’d woven these grounds, creating the wards and spells. I’d cursed it for decades.

  I was choosing to play their tamed Prefect for the sake of my lovers, but only until I could find a way to free them. When I’d lived here before, it’d been on the other side, as the part of the coven in charge. Now I was here as one of the students. Yet, I was still me.

  Even if I couldn’t protect Fox from whatever was happening within the study, I could watch over him.

  I nudged my familiars off my knee as I stood up. “Witches aren’t meant to care for their familiars, but I love you both deeply, you do know that?”

  Echo fluttered his wings, which pulsed pink. He rubbed his head against my ankle.

  Flair cawed. “And you’re all right for a witch, boss.”

  “He means that we love you too,” Echo whispered.

  I grinned, focusing on fading entirely. The sensation was odd like unraveling myself thread by thread. Then I floated to the study door. I took a deep breath.

  Please let this work…

  I whooshed through the thick door, exploding through the other side. I expected a howl of outrage from Damelza, but she only continued to talk with a quiet intensity to Fox.

  I was invisible again. My pulse pounded at the thought that I wouldn’t be able to reverse it. Bubbling cauldrons, what if I was stuck like this? I forced the thought away, wrapping myself around Fox. He stiffened, as if he could sense me, before relaxing into my touch in the delicious way that he had.

  His frown became a smile. He knew that I was there, and he was no longer alone.

  If I couldn’t save him yet, then I could at least grant him that.

  “…even I hadn’t imagined that your criminality extended to corrupting your own family to demand your release against the wishes of your House,” Damelza finished with a flourish.

  Fox’s face lit up with painful hope; it was beautiful but as fragile as the snowdrops in my glade. “My sister’s trying to free me?” He impatiently brushed a stray curl behind his ear. “Hartley’s come for me?”

  “Why would the only heir to the House of Jewels, and your mother’s darling,” when Fox winced, I stroked across his cheek, “ever release her mage brother? Have you no sense of honor? The witch outside the wards, who’s giving me yet another headache at the start of term, is your cousin. Do you wish to enlighten me on why?”

  “L-lux?” Fox stuttered, paling. Whoever his cousin was, who’d been unu
sually flooded with kindness towards Fox, he still feared her. He’d also tried to hide the way that disappointment had ripped through him on hearing that his would-be rescuer wasn’t his sister, yet he shook with it. “Cheers for the laugh, but the only thing that Lux would want with me would be as a punch bag, subject for experimentation, or as someone to play with her broken Omegas.”

  Damelza prowled around the desk, and I backed against the wall, just in case she could sense me. “I don’t care if she wants you to play Romeo in a jazz version of Romeo and Juliet, I don’t simply release students unreformed. No one leaves here who hasn’t graduated, unless they win a special contest, Tournament, or at my great benevolence. Most who do graduate are offered teaching positions because usually nobody wants them back. You’re here because you’re too dangerous to allow out into society.”

  “I don’t need my power to know that’s a lie. Why’d you let this Duchess into the castle to paw at Bask then? Why’s she different to my family?”

  “Because she’s the one who signed Crave into the academy with a special understanding that is none of your business,” Damelza snapped. “But your cousins appear to believe that if they pressure the House of Crows, where no one but Hecate has held sway for centuries, then I’ll let you go. Your mother is the one who registered your place here, and not your cousins. I don’t have to bow down to Lux, simply because she’s now Head of the Oxford covens. The House of Crows is above witch law and tradition.”

  “Cousins?” Fox’s voice was tentatively hopeful again. My guts roiled, and this time I knew that it was neither guilt nor hunger making it churn. I was confused by the desperate desire to hold onto Fox, and at the same time, the need to let him go. This could be his best chance to escape. He had to take it. Please, let these cousins help him. “As in, Lux and her twin, Aquilo?”

  “Huh, you imagine that I’d count her mage brother?” When Fox stilled, Damelza pressed closer, until their noses were almost touching. She scrutinized his deliberately blank face. “Lux even allowed him to try and break through our wards. He’s powerful, isn’t he? Are you hiding his level of magic behind that mouth of yours?”