by Tiegan Clyne
The raccoon climbs up onto the desk and chitters at the centaur, who nods. He closes the ledger he was writing in and turns a look of pure disappointment onto us.
“Mr. Kingsley. Miss Hemlock. It has come to my attention that the two of you had yet another fracas in the breakfast room today.”
“‘Fracas’? Is that a nice way of saying Gideon was acting like an asshole and I called him on it?”
Apparently, Professor Pholos doesn’t like my humor. His face almost folds in half, he frowns so hard. Sheesh. What’ll it take to get him to crack a damn smile?
“No, Darkblood,” Gideon snarls. “It’s a way of saying that you caused a scene… yet again.”
Pholos slams his hand down on his desk, and the whole thing shudders. The bang is so loud that we both take an involuntary step backward.
“Stop!” the centaur bellows. “We will not tolerate this level of dissent among our students! You have tried Headmaster Lockwood’s patience, my patience, and the patience of every member of the staff here at Everafter Academy. And we are not even through the second week!”
I highly doubt that’s true. There are staff members I haven’t even met yet.
He roars on. “You will learn to work together, and you will learn it quickly… or else.”
I want to ask ‘or else what?’, but something tells me I’d better not push him just yet. He’s furious, and his dark eyes are practically bugging out of his head. If I say anything now, he’ll probably burst a blood vessel.
“Report to Quasimodo in the garden. You will be picking up trash around the grounds and working together until you realize that nothing is beneath you and that you must work together if you’re to survive.”
Gideon squints. “Survive what?”
The centaur lowers his voice and goes all dramatic. “Whatever is yet to come.”
I roll my eyes. Gideon huffs under his breath and folds his arms.
Professor Pholos gathers himself up and glares again. “Go, both of you. The next time you need to be reprimanded, it will be Lockwood and his cane who see to you.”
Please tell me that’s a promise.
The thought actually makes me shudder, and not in a bad way. Pholos shoots me a veiled glower and I give him a sweet, innocent smile and nod my head. Now unless I miss my guess, his threat gets the opposite reaction from Gideon. He turns away with a glare and stomps toward the door. He yanks it open, then holds it for me with a resentful look at Pholos.
“Ladies first,” he sneers.
“Then what are you waiting for?”
He screws his face up into an even uglier grimace. With a smug grin, I walk out ahead of him. I wouldn’t be surprised if he took this opportunity to sink a knife between my shoulder blades, but he doesn’t. That’s probably because Pholos is still watching. Coward.
I leave the administration offices and go to the gardener’s shed all the way over by the cafeteria. Quasimodo is being talked to by Pholos’s secretary, who tromps away as we approach.
“There’s not much to pick up, at least,” I say, looking around.
“They’ll find things.”
“What, you mean making messes just so you have to clean them up? What does that sound like?” I give him a hard look. “Serves you right for being such a pain in the ass all the time.”
He gives me a side-eyed glare.
Quasimodo meets us at the edge of the green park area in the center of the courtyard. He hands me what looks like a rake with a dental problem—a long handle with a single tine on the end. He puts a big canvas bag into Gideon’s hand, along with a rope.
“Wow.” I blow a long, drawn-out whistle, displaying the tine to Gideon. “This is long enough to go right through your heart, if you had one.”
“And this bag is just the right size to shove your body in,” he shoots back.
Quasimodo, clearly distressed, takes the tool back and mimes stabbing refuse on the tine and putting it in the bag. He hands the tool back to me with an intense look on his face.
“Don’t worry. I’m not really going to stab him with it.”
He turns to Gideon, who ignores him. “Let’s get this over with, Darkblood.”
The main courtyard is mostly clean already. There are just some scraps of paper and a few candy wrappers here and there. There is no way that this is going to take all afternoon.
I spear a gum wrapper and turn to Gideon, who begrudgingly holds out the bag for me to put it into.
“You could help, you know,” I snap at him, pulling the paper off the spike.
“I’m not touching trash,” he sniffs. “You’re already trash so it’s no big deal for you.”
The urge to hex him or punch him comes roaring back. “Why are you such a jerk?”
“Why are you here?”
“Because I’m enrolled as a student, same as you.”
He shakes his head sharply. “No. Not the same as me. You don’t belong here. You can’t be here.”
I want to stab him so badly.
“What difference does it make to you if I’m here or not? Who died and made you king of Everafter? I’m not hurting you… yet.”
He tosses his head and snorts. Very attractive. “You’re bringing down the property values, Darkblood. If they let you in, they’ll let in any sort of riff-raff, and the prestige of this school will fall. You’re ruining everything just by existing.”
“That’s what you’re worried about? Prestige?” I stab another piece of paper and hold the tool up toward his face. “You’ve got no prestige. You say you’re a prince, but nobody knows where you come from. What kingdom are you going to inherit, Biff? Outer Asshole-istan?”
Gideon looks like he wants to hit me, and by Lilith, I wish he would. Then I could finally pound his ass into paste the way I’ve wanted to since I met him. Instead, he grabs the paper off the tool and shoves it into the bag.
“Where I’m from is not your concern,” he grinds out. “And someday you’ll be sorry you ever crossed me.”
I laugh in his face. He drops the bag and I think that he’s finally going to man up and do something more than talk, but he starts staring over my shoulder in obvious dismay.
I frown, confused. “What?”
I turn to look, and Professor Merlin, the instructor for Conjuring, is walking along the walls, creating trash for us to pick up. There’s so much paper and garbage and shit that it looks like it’s been snowing. I feel my shoulders sag. Now I see why we were sent here.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Gideon groans. “That old bastard!”
Merlin looks over his shoulder at us, his blue eyes twinkling under his bushy white brows. He nods his head, a smug grin tugging at his long grey beard, and then he translocates out of sight.
Gideon grumbles again. “I’m gonna kill him.”
“Not if I beat you to it.”
It takes us an hour to pick up the garbage that Merlin put down, and we fill three bags with the stuff. It’s almost time for lunch and I want to be done with this. Prince Biff has been quiet for most of the ordeal, which is a blessing, but just being around him makes me livid. He smells so fucking good I want to slap him.
Merlin appears just as we’re almost done with the mess he made by the west gate. He smiles and says, “Don’t forget to clean up against the outside of the walls. Start by the main gate first.”
If looks could kill, the old man would be ashes by now.
Both Gideon and I level our hardest, angriest glares on him. He just giggles like a damn child and vanishes. Grandma raised me to respect my elders. Well, that’s one elder I want to beat the living daylights out of.
We go out the south gate, which is the main entrance to the grounds. There is paper and trash scattered all along the wall, no doubt conjured by that old motherfucker.
“Great,” Gideon grouses, rolling his eyes like a petulant child. “More time alone with you.”
“It’s not a treat to be with you, either, shithead.”
We work as quickly as we can, just to get it over with. We start on the south side and then work our way around the school until we get to the north side and the Flick pitch. There’s a game in progress, and he looks at the players with envy.
“This is your fault,” he grumbles. “If you’d just mind your own business, we wouldn’t be doing this and I’d be out there right now.”
“If you’d stop being a complete dick then I wouldn't have to get involved.”
“Nobody asked you to defend the help.”
“Nobody asked you to abuse them.”
“I’m a prince. It’s my right.”
I turn on him. “No! It’s not your right. You might be royal but that doesn’t mean you get to treat people like dirt.”
“It means that I get to do whatever I want,” he defends.
“That’s the reason people hate the royal families,” I huff. “Bunch of self-righteous snobs.”
“Nobody hates the royal families.” He looks at me like I’ve grown a second head.
I bite back on my response. I want to tell him that there are covens in every kingdom, his precious own included, whichever one that is, and they’re working to bring down the royals one by one. But I don’t want to give him more reason to suspect that I’m not who I say I am. A white witch wouldn’t know about the Darkblood plans, and the last thing I want to do is give myself away. Not now. Not to him.
“I do,” I say finally, “with. An. Utter. Vengeance.”
He snorts and walks around the tower, headed to the west wall, the last one we’ll have to clean up… unless Merlin has been making himself busy someplace else.
The fading sunlight makes the forest look dark and looming. He gives the woods a sidelong glance, then stops and holds the bag.
“Get busy, Darkblood.”
I glare at him, and in the golden light of sunset, I’m struck by how he looks. The bastard has no right to be so beautiful. It pisses me off that such a gorgeous face and body should be wasted on someone so vile.
“Fuck you,” I snap.
“You wish.” He narrows his eyes, curving the edge of his mouth. “I’ll bet you’re just dying for a good royal fuck, aren’t you?”
I laugh. “Oh, like you’d be a good lay? I highly doubt it.”
“I’m more than you can handle.”
“Ha! You have no idea what I can handle, little boy.”
He puts down the bag, but he still has the rope in his hand. He takes a step toward me. “Somebody needs to teach you respect.”
“Oh, really? And you think you’re the one to do that? Please.”
His answer shocks me. He grabs hold of my wrist and pulls me to him. He slams his mouth into mine, kissing me. For a moment I’m completely taken by surprise, and I allow him to kiss me. Until realization dawns on my stupid-ass brain, and I shove him away.
“Get the fuck off me, you son of a bitch!”
Even as I snap at him, I can feel the color rising in my cheeks. He’s still holding my wrist, gripping it so hard his fingernails cut into my skin.
“You loved it,” he snorts. “I’m gonna fuck you, Redera Hemlock, right here, right now.”
I warn him, “Careful what you ask for.”
“I can take it. I can take you.”
I try to pull my wrist back, but his grip is strong and he doesn’t let go. His bright blue eyes lock onto mine. There’s so much lust there that it almost takes my breath away.
Almost.
I change direction and push toward him. He backs up, grinning from ear-to-ear. He collides with the wall, but his eye contact never wavers, latched onto my own like a hungry predator. I drop the tool and grab his throat with my free hand. I squeeze, and the heat in his eyes goes up another notch.
“I despise you,” I spit at him, giving my deepest, foulest of glares. “You’re an asshole and a jerk and I’m going to—”
He cuts me off. “Don’t kid yourself, Darkblood. You want me so bad you can’t stand it. I can smell your pussy getting wet for me already.”
His hand finds purchase between my thighs, and I shudder.
Because he’s right.
I am turned on.
Even though I hate his guts with every ounce of my being, I want nothing more than to fuck him senseless. He thinks he can handle a girl like me? This young prince is in for one heaven of a surprise. I’m going to teach him a lesson in reality.
I’m also going to fuck his brains out while I do so.
I kiss him, and he’s ready for me. Our tongues twine around each other in a violent display of passion, our lips firm and unyielding, every movement searing with anger and lust. He nips me, and I squeeze his throat, cutting off his air supply. He chokes but doesn’t stop kissing me and I can feel his cock hardening against my thigh.
He lets go of my wrist and grabs my breast, squeezing hard with his long slender fingers. The ache makes my insides throb even more. I reach down to rub his erection with my hand. I hate that I’m pleasantly surprised. He’s got a huge cock.
Gideon grabs the rope and tries to tie it to the hand that’s gripping his throat. I pull free and take the rope away from him. He pulls me into his arms and spins us so my back is against the wall, and he reaches down and shoves his hand between my thighs. He can feel how wet I am, and he rubs a finger along my lips.
“That’s right,” he whispers in a husky voice. “You want this.”
I stroke him through his trousers. “So do you.”
He fumbles with my skirt, trying to pull it up, and that gives me the opportunity to tie the rope around his wrist. He’s surprised, which gives me the advantage I need. I slip away from the wall and shove him so his chest is against the ivy-covered stone. He doesn’t fight me, which is a surprise. He lets me take his other wrist and bind it to the first, tying his hands behind his back.
This is interesting.
He turns to face me, and his pupils are blown. His erection is straining against the fabric of his trousers, his cheeks flushed and mouth slightly parted. He’s loving this. His reaction pleases me and makes me angry at the same time. I’m not doing this for his pleasure. I’m doing this for dominance.
“What now, Darkblood?” he taunts, pulling his lips into a smug grin.
I grab his shirt and rip the material open with my bare hands, sending buttons flying in all manner of directions. He’s got a perfect chest, muscular and defined, with washboard abs and gorgeous nipples that are standing at full attention. I grab them both and tweak them for all I’m worth. He gasps, and I chuckle.
“You like that, you piece of shit?”
“Fuck you, Darkblood.”
“Oh, I’m going to fuck you. But first I make you my bitch.”
With that, I kick his feet out from under him, and he lands hard, his hands trapped beneath his body. He thrusts his hips up at me, and I take the hint, since it was what I was planning anyway. I strip his trousers and underwear away, and his heavy cock bounces free, so rigid that it snaps up to lie against his belly. The tip is covered in pre-cum, and like the rest of him, his cock is shaped to perfection. Damn him.
I take his underwear and shove it into his mouth to keep him quiet. I toss my panties aside to straddle him. He pushes his hips toward me, but I’m not ready to go there yet.
“You think you’re so much better than everybody else,” I tell him, grabbing his cock in my hand and squeezing as hard as I can. He groans around the underwear gag. “But you’re nothing but a spoiled brat with an attitude problem.”
I stand up and look down at him. He’s been a thorn in my side since I first got here, and I want to fuck him up. I grab the tool I’ve been using, and his eyes widen. He’s afraid.
Good.
Looks like he’s not completely stupid.
I spit into my hand, then rub the moisture over the handle of the tool. He knows what I’m planning, and he shakes his head.
“Oh, yes. You’re a pain in the ass to everybody else, so it’s time you had a pain in the ass of your
own.”
I add a little more spit to the handle, then turn it so the wet tip is pressed against his hole. He doesn’t try to close his legs. In fact, he opens them. I take that as an invitation and shove the tool inside him.
Gideon groans, his eyes fluttering shut.
“Big man,” I taunt, fucking him with the tool. “Look at you, lying in the dirt, legs spread for me. A Darkblood. You’re nothing but a little fuck boy, aren’t you?”
I push the tool inside him again. He shudders and moans, so I guess I hit the right spot. I leave the tool shoved up his ass so I can straddle him again. I take his cock in my hand and guide him into my pussy. He moans in the back of his throat, and I start riding him as hard and as fast as I can.
“You’re my bitch now,” I tell him, wrapping my hand around his throat again. His cock feels so good inside me, stretching, filling me to the brim. Bastard. I shouldn’t be enjoying this. “Admit it. Admit that you’re a Darkblood’s little bitch now, you disgusting pig.”
Gideon nods, his eyes clenched shut. His breath is whistling through his nostrils, fast and desperate. I can feel him getting harder within me. I reach back and grab the tool. It’s an awkward position, but I manage to keep him inside me and fuck him with the handle at the same time. He lets out a strangled groan, and I know he’s close.
“Not yet—ah!” I gasp the last word out, pleasure tingling through me.
I hop up to my feet and pull the handle out of his ass, destroying his orgasm before he can get there. He bangs his head against the ground and groans in frustration.
“You’ll cum when I say you can.” I grab the underwear and yank it out of his mouth. “Go on. Say you’re my bitch.”
He pants. “I’m… I’m your bitch.”
The words are barely audible. Pathetic.
I give him a long, disapproving shake of my head. “Try again, Pig.”
He closes his eyes again, and for a moment I think he’s not going to answer. Then he looks up at me through his long lashes, and says clearly, “I’m your bitch, Mistress.”
Oh, my. He’s been down this road a few times. Excellent.
