Oberon Academy- The Complete Series

by Wendi Wilson

  “Are you all insane?” he roared, shaking a fist in the air as if it was the first time he’d heard our plan. So dramatic. “You cannot attack the Zephyrs without the king’s blessing.”

  “We’ll get his blessing after we rescue him,” Shaela quipped, and I wanted to kick her and high-five her at the same time.

  “I. Am. Your. King,” he gritted out.

  Then his whole body shuddered, like he was trying to shake off his outrage and appear calm.

  “There will be no rescue mission. You three will be confined to this academy.”

  He nodded his head toward the three Sylphs in our group, and I felt that familiar warble. He was using his power of command again, this time to make sure Shaela, Charles, and my mom couldn’t leave the premises.

  Like that’ll work. I can break that command in a second, I thought.

  “And you,” he growled, his eyes skating back to me, “will not thwart me on this. Should you decide to break my command, or disobey me in any way, my wife will be the one who pays. She has grown mutinous after your vile threats prevented me from punishing her. Now that I’m king, I am no longer afraid of you. Do not underestimate me, half-breed.”

  My eyes flitted from Alwyn to Tiana, who stood just behind him with malicious glee shining in her eyes. She was loving every second of this. She didn’t care that the man just threatened to hurt his wife. I gnashed my teeth together, trying to keep a tight rein on my anger.

  “Just let me be clear. If any of you leave, I will lock Freya up and deny her food. Within a few days, she will waste away to nothing and die, leaving me finally free to do as I wish without her incessant whining.”

  His arm stretched out and wrapped around Tiana’s hips, and his fingers squeezed her flesh. A giggle that ended up sounding more like a groan of pleasure slipped between her lips as she shuffled closer to his side.

  Ew. Is Tiana…? No. No way.

  But she proved me wrong by moving even closer and draping an arm over his shoulder. I couldn’t even fathom it. Honestly, I knew Tiana Avery was power hungry and wanted Easton because she wanted to be queen, but would she really resort to…ugh…sex with this vile, disgusting man just to get the title she so craved? She moved her hand to his blonde ponytail and stroked it with gentle fingers.

  Unbelievable.

  Looking into Alwyn’s eyes, I knew one thing for certain—his threats were not idle. If we left to save Easton, he’d kill Freya. Not only that, he’d go straight to the council and have us arrested for disobeying a direct order from the king. Of course, that wouldn’t matter once we came back to the academy with Easton in tow. He was the rightful king and would replace Alwyn immediately upon his return.

  Wouldn’t he?

  It didn’t matter. We couldn’t risk Freya’s life. Easton would never forgive us, forgive me, if I let it come to that.

  We couldn’t take her with us. She was already weak, and she would be an easy target for the Zephyrs. And we couldn’t leave her behind with her husband.

  “In case you’re thinking of ignoring my threats and going anyway, know this—I have the council wrapped around my finger. If you decide Freya’s life is worth Easton’s, it will all be for nothing. They will not replace me with a mere boy. I will have you all imprisoned, including my son. And believe me, you do not want to go to Oberon Faery Reformatory. No one achieves rehabilitation there. No one ever leaves. You will never know freedom again.”

  Chapter One Hundred Twenty-Six

  28

  “There has to be something we can do,” Shaela said once we were alone back in our room.

  No chance of Tiana spying on us there, especially after I put up a privacy Glamour so she couldn’t listen through the door. It looked like we were going to have to live in paranoia for the foreseeable future.

  “I don’t know, Shae,” I said, slumping onto my mattress.

  Depression and despair crowded down on me, pushing me into a dark place where positivity struggled to exist. I was tired. Emotionally exhausted.

  “You’re not giving up, are you?” she asked, her voice raising an octave with disbelief.

  “What am I supposed to do, Shaela?” I snapped. “If I defy him, he’ll kill Freya. Easton would never forgive himself, or me, if his rescue was the cause of his mother’s death.”

  “But—”

  “No,” I said, dejection filling my voice. “We can’t risk her life. And whatever this Oberon Faery Reformatory is, it sounds like Alwyn will dump us all there—including Easton—and throw away the key.”

  “So you’d rather just let Sebille kill him?” she shouted, her tone filled with accusation.

  “No, o-of course not,” I stammered. “But what happens if we go after him? We’re damned if we don’t, damned if we do.”

  “December, we have to fight. We have to stand up for our friends and protect them no matter the cost. You taught me that.”

  “We can’t sacrifice Freya,” I mumbled, images of her locked in a cold room, starving to death dancing through my mind, reminding me of my own life before the academy. “We have to figure out a way around Alwyn’s edict that won’t put her at risk, or end with us rotting away in a prison somewhere.”

  “Now, that sounds more like it,” Shaela said, rubbing her palms together. “What do you have in mind?”

  Nothing. I had nothing in mind. No ideas, no plans. Nada. I felt myself slip a little further into the dark abyss of despair.

  “I don’t know,” I said, and I was sure she could hear the despondency in my voice. “I need to sleep. Maybe something will come to us in the morning.”

  She fell silent as I climbed under my covers, still in full uniform, and turned toward the wall. I wallowed in self-pity as sleep evaded me for more than an hour. My mind just wouldn’t shut off, no matter how tired I was. I rolled over to face Shaela, who lay on her own bed, facing me with eyes wide open.

  “Can’t sleep?” she murmured. When I shook my head, she said, “Me neither.”

  “What do you know about that faery prison Alwyn mentioned?” I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me.

  “Oberon Faery Reformatory? Not a lot,” she admitted. “It was established over a hundred years ago by Echo Oberon.”

  “Was he related to Finn?” I asked, my mind perking up a bit.

  “He is,” she said meaningfully. “But just barely. Finn’s father and Echo’s grandfather were second cousins or something like that.”

  “Weird,” I said, realizing I’d never really thought about Easton having extended family past his parents and grandfather.

  “I overheard my parents once when they didn’t know I was listening,” she continued, a sassy smirk lighting up her features. “They were talking about the reformatory and how awful it is. Apparently, Echo wanted in on building this academy, but Finn rejected him. Something about a lack of character.”

  “He’s a bad guy?” I asked.

  “I don’t know,” she answered, shrugging one shoulder. “Maybe. Anyway, Echo went off to build his own school. But it didn’t work out how he’d hoped. Sylphs wanted their kids to go to the school of the king, not his derelict second cousin, once removed.”

  “You obviously know a lot more than you were letting on,” I chuckled.

  “Shut up,” she said, laughing. “I know the history, that’s it. When Echo realized his dream of being the headmaster of a superior academy was lost, he renovated the whole place, turning it into a reformatory for young faeries. It’s supposed to be like an academy, but from what my parents said, it’s more like a prison.”

  “You said it’s for young faeries?” I asked. At her nod, I asked, “Then why did Alwyn threaten to send my parents there, too?”

  She laughed. “You’re still thinking like a human, D. For the Fae, anything under a hundred and fifty years old is considered young.”

  “Huh,” I said, then fell silent.

  After several moments, Shaela’s voice rang out again.

  “I think you’re right
, though. From what I’ve heard, the reformatory is reserved for troublesome Fae under the age of thirty. Which means…”

  “Which means,” I said, picking up her sentence, “either Alwyn is making idle threats to scare us, or he thinks he can send us to this reformatory and get rid of my parents some other way.”

  While I didn’t say the words, my meaning was clear. He’d have them killed. Murdered.

  The thought of losing Cris and Ellie shot a spear of panic through my chest. A chill crept up my spine, making me shiver and burrow further under the covers. I closed my eyes and thought about my choices.

  I could go after Easton and die by Sebille’s hand.

  I could rescue Easton and come back, only to have Alwyn toss us in prison and kill my parents.

  In both of those scenarios, Freya dies and Easton blames me forever.

  Or, I could do nothing. My parents live. Freya lives. And Easton is lost to me forever while we all suffer under the rule of Alwyn as king.

  All of my options were bleak, dragging me further into my pit of despair. I didn’t want to make the decision. I didn’t even want to think about it anymore. I just wanted to bury my head in my pillow and sleep.

  Eventually, my thoughts became fuzzy, and I dozed off. My brain still churned, even in sleep, as I dreamed of Easton’s hatred and disappointment, the deaths of those I love, and the cold steel of prison bars.

  Chapter One Hundred Twenty-Seven

  29

  I woke up the next morning, but didn’t really wake up. I got up, showered, put on a fresh uniform, and prepared for class in a fog of confusion and misery. Shaela tried to get me to go to breakfast with her, but I wasn’t hungry. I felt…dead inside.

  I packed up and headed straight to history class. The halls were crowded, but I didn’t really see anyone. My mind was trapped, images of the ones I loved being hurt or killed rolling through it on repeat.

  Easton, Shaela, Mom, Dad, Charles, me. Injuries, blood, broken wings, prison bars, and funeral pyres.

  I heard none of Professor Alfred’s lecture, and I didn’t really care. It was the same in science. I stared unseeingly through the classroom windows, where not even the spring blooms could draw me out of the bad dream I was living in.

  It wasn’t until the start of sociology that I really woke up. I was sitting in my chair, obsessing over the emptiness of the desk behind me, when the door swung open and Bushy-Mustache walked in.

  “Good morning,” he said as he strode toward the desk. “My name is Councilman Seamus Bransson, and I will be teaching this class for the foreseeable future.”

  I shot upright, my spine turning to steel as my fingers curled around the edges of my desktop, gripping so hard my knuckles turned white.

  “What happened to Ellie?” someone called out from across the room.

  Seamus smiled, but his eyes remained cold and devoid of any warmth.

  “Ellie Goodman is no longer employed by this academy,” he said, his beady eyes landing on me for a moment as one side of his lip curled in disgust. “Now, get out your books and turn to page fifty-seven.”

  “Page fifty-seven?” someone else called out. “Excuse me, sir, but we’re nearing the end of term and have been studying chapter thirty-two. That’s page two-hundred-and-seventy-five.”

  “You’ve had a string of questionable Fae teaching this class since the death of Rowan Dobbs,” he said. “A Zephyr, a traitor, and the daughter of said traitor cannot instill the proper views a Sylph should have of human-Zephyr relations. So, we’ll start again.”

  My eyes floated around the room to see if the other students were as shocked by this turn of events as I was, and it seemed most were. They all had either the wide eyes of disbelief or the sagging shoulders of defeat. I caught Shaela’s eye and she fell into the former category.

  Her green eyes were large and round as she mouthed, “Where’s your mom?”

  “I don’t know,” I mouthed back, worry pressing down on my shoulders.

  A loud crack made me jump in my seat and my eyes flew toward the sound. Seamus held up a wooden pointer, which he’d obviously just rapped against his desk. His eyes were narrowed on me and his voice was a little bit growly when he spoke.

  “Anything you’d like to share with the rest of the class, Miss Thorne?”

  Yeah, I’d like to know what possessed you to appoint Alwyn Jameson as king and why you’re kowtowing to him now, I thought.

  “No, sir,” is what I said aloud.

  “Then I would appreciate it if you keep your mouth closed and your eyes on me.”

  I wanted nothing more than to tell him to go to hell and stomp from the room in a blaze of glory, but I resisted the urge. The last thing I needed was to do something to get myself sent to Alwyn’s office. There was no telling what he’d do to me.

  Or I, to him.

  No, I needed to stay as far away from the king as possible. Even if it meant suffering through what would no doubt be a heavily swayed, Zephyr-hating lecture from this jerk.

  So I kept my eyes on him and let my mind drift…and the current took me straight to memories of Easton. His ice-blue eyes, bright with humor. Those same orbs, darkened with desire. His thoughtfulness, his protective stance, even his arrogance—I missed everything about him.

  Tears pricked my eyes as I imagined never seeing him again. I didn’t even know if he was still alive. Sebille had made no attempt to contact me. She made no outlandish demands or heavy-handed threats. It was like she got what she wanted and no longer had her sights set on me.

  I ended up rushing from the class after all. But I left with tears streaming down my cheeks instead of in a haze of righteous anger. If Bushy-Mustache-Seamus had anything to say about my hasty departure, I didn’t hear it.

  And I was sure I’d face the consequences later.

  The summons I expected from Alwyn never came, even though I skipped math to hide out in a bathroom stall. By the time lunchtime rolled around, my tears had all dried up and my stomach was grumbling with displeasure. After skipping breakfast, I was starving.

  When I entered the dining hall, my eyes landed on Tiana first. She was sitting on a tabletop, preening as students crowded around her, smiling and fawning all over her. Apparently, word had gotten out about how the new king favored her.

  Gag.

  And I was pretty sure I knew how the word had been spread so quickly. By Tiana’s own lips, no doubt. Thinking about her lips made me think about what she might have used them for with Alwyn, and I suddenly lost my appetite.

  Double gag.

  I found Shaela and Charles, sitting alone at our normal table. My heart stalled as I glanced at Easton’s usual chair, but I ignored the feeling and slid into my seat across the table from them.

  “Are you okay?” Shaela asked.

  I nodded, swallowing thickly against the bile rising up my throat. I was feeling some sensory overload. Tiana, the noise of the dining hall, Easton’s empty chair—it was overwhelming.

  “Tiana’s telling everyone that Seamus Bransson made you cry and run from sociology,” Charles said, and Shaela punched him on the arm while making a shushing noise.

  “Is she, now?” I asked, letting my eyes roam back to her.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” Shaela asked again, pulling my attention from Tiana and back to her.

  “Yeah,” I murmured. “I just started thinking about Easton and got emotional. So I left and spent fourth period in the restroom. I’m okay now, though. I promise.”

  “You don’t look okay,” Shaela said, arching a brow at me. “When is the last time you ate?”

  “I don’t know. Yesterday?”

  “Here,” she said, sliding a plate piled high with fries toward me. “Have some of these. The greasy goodness does wonders for a hurting heart.”

  I plucked one fry from the top of the pile and bit off the end, chewing thoughtfully. I didn’t really taste it, because my mind was already drifting somewhere else.

  “Why do you thin
k Sebille hasn’t made any demands? It’s been days since she took him, and we haven’t heard anything,” I said, plucking another fry from the plate as my stomach growled with renewed hunger.

  “Who knows what goes through her mind? She’s probably getting some sick and twisted pleasure from making us wait and wonder,” Shaela answered.

  “What if she killed him?”

  “You can’t think like that, D.”

  “Yeah, you have to stay positive,” Charles added.

  I knew they meant well, that they were just trying to support me and keep me from falling into the dregs of a deep depression, but I was in no headspace to hear it. So I snapped.

  “Stay positive?” I snarled. “What is there to be positive about? Easton is gone, Finn in dead, and our new king is a greedy, evil asshole who is doing everything in his power to make sure his own son doesn’t get rescued.”

  My voice rose in pitch and volume with every word, and by then end, I was out of my seat and shouting down at them. The heaviness of pure silence broke through my anger, and I looked around the room. Widened eyes of every shade from light blue to dark green were trained on me.

  Tiana watched me with an evil smirk, like she couldn’t wait to tell her new lover what I’d said. Let her. I didn’t care anymore.

  I spared a quick glance at Shaela and Charles, mumbled out an apology and rushed from the room. I ran through the hall, up the stairs, and didn’t stop until I was safe behind the doors of my bedroom. Ignoring Blossom’s thumping, I stumbled to my bed and buried myself under the covers once more.

  Maybe it was better if I just stayed there. Forever.

  Chapter One Hundred Twenty-Eight

  30

  “Wake up! Get out of bed, December.”

  The demanding tone in my father’s voice made me flip the blanket off my face and give him my best death-stare. I felt like I’d just fallen asleep, and there he was, barging into my room and yelling at me like I was a child.