CHAPTER FIVE
Wicked Reform School, House of Fae, Swan Pond
Monday 26th April
The Countess knew how to wreck me with her punishments. She always had. How could the Apple Game sound so innocent and yet be so wicked?
Dizzy, my heart pounded in my ears, drowning out the calls of the songbirds and the buzzing of the bees. I could only feel the feathery reassurance of Radley’s wings outstretched next to mine on one side and Beau’s on the other, as we stood in a circle beside the teardrop pond. I shifted, crushing the yellow carpet of gillyflowers under my boots, which curled around this side of the farm; their spicy, cinnamon scent grounded me.
I took a deep breath, and Radley shot me a cocky smile, before schooling his face to blankness again. Beau already looked like he’d been transformed into a wooden toy soldier.
What would happen if I ever yanked the stick out of Beau’s ass? Would he turn into a real boy?
Yet I knew the Court’s methods for creating their perfect warriors because they’d tried with me as well. As a teenager, I’d walked for hours by the Countess’ side through the corridors of the Fae Court with my hands behind my back and the same posture as Beau. The polished black Court had warped and shifted around me.
The Countess had led me in front of the curious and contemptuous stares of the Court Fae, and I’d been conflicted about whether I’d wanted to fit in or spit in their eye.
What instinct won out varied day by day, but it’d torn me apart.
“You can be reshaped the same as the Court,” the Countess had told me, pausing one day as the walls had bulged into monstrous shapes as ugly as the Queen’s heart. “I’ll civilize you.”
My eyes had burned with tears. “You promised that if I was good today, then I’d earn a reward. I want to let Lix and Rads out of our room.”
The Countess had given a long-suffering sigh. “You’re surrounded by riches and still you’re on about them?”
I’d nodded.
Please, don’t be unfair. Don’t trick me again…
“You scuffed your feet too much like a peasant. You haven’t earned a reward today.” The Countess had twirled away from me dismissively.
I’d reddened. My wings had exploded out in an automatic show of rage and dominance.
I hate you…hate, hate, hate…
The Countess’ eyes had widened, and she’d turned back.
“When I grow up,” I’d growled, “I shall make a list of my own rewards, and you shan’t receive a single one.”
The Countess’ expression had frozen. Then she’d snatched my wing, pinning me against the wall. My heart had hammered in my chest. Her smile had choked me with dread.
“When you grow up, hostage boy, you shall belong to me.” The Countess’ eyes had glittered. “You shan’t be allowed a single reward that I don’t grant you. I could make you happy. But do fight me now because it’ll make breaking and remaking you more satisfying in the end.”
I panted from the terror of the memory, which had taught me what bonding would truly mean. Radley caught my gaze with a concerned tilt of his head, and I lifted my chin.
Brilliant idea, Quincey, let your obsessive stalker get to you, before the game has even started.
Okay, game or punishment. This was a reform school: they liked to hide behind academy styled titles for brutalities because if they thought that they were reforming supernatural bad boys and girls, then anything was justified.
Who got to choose who was bad and who was good?
When black swan shifters with collars around their necks honked like bugles, I glanced across at the pond. The flock of swans were gathered at the edges in the reeds, watching us with beady glares.
You’d think that the fae had forced them into shifter form and then stolen their kids from them.
Oh wait, we did.
Two bundles of gray fluff quivered on either one of Radley’s ankles: the cygnet shifters, Lil Swan and Odile. Radley had cussed enough to make most Court Fae blush, when the Countess had freed them from a net, which overhung the pond. But the Countess was too used to me to be most Court Fae.
Their parents had swum sadly beneath the net, guarding the cygnets. The swans had brushed their necks against each other in comfort. This was the only time that they were allowed to see their own daughters. The swan shifters were as imprisoned as me.
I had to find a way to allow the sisters to visit their mum and dad. It must be agony to be separated.
The Countess hadn’t allowed Radley to pick up the cygnets and carry them in his pockets like usual, which meant that now they sheltered on his boots.
At least Apollo had flapped back to the golden tower, rather than following us to the pond. We had a standing agreement on him getting ready for comfort mode after these punishment sessions. Since I’d arrived at the reform school, the strength that I’d received from Apollo’s touch alone had kept me from breaking. Felix once told me that humans were the same with their cats. It was nice to know that as the Fae Lord leader of my people, I had the same cuddle needs as a non-magical woman and her pussy.
Okay, that might’ve come out wrong.
“Why are you standing around holding your dicks? Kick the bitch’s ass.” Lil Swan’s voice exploded telepathically into my mind like the slash of a knife. I always wondered if you received the shifter to match your personality. Lil Swan certainly suited Radley. Wait, had my prick slipped out of my pants? I flushed, subtly cupping myself to check. Lil Swan snickered. “It’s a saying, right? It means: why are you here doing nothing? The bitch who hung us in a net like she was going to make a roast dinner out of us is standing just behind you. Brooke could take her on his own.”
Radley gave a careful shake of his head, and Lil Swan huffed.
The hairs on the base of my neck lifted. I could sense the Countess close behind me. My friends had only received their shifters this year. The cygnets were young, no matter what they pretended. So far, we’d been able to shield them from the worst truths of the Wicked Reform School.
Lil Swan had the same pride in Radley as a kid had in their dad, when they boasted that their dad could kick anyone else’s ass.
I hated that her faith would be stolen from her.
“I want River,” Odile wept; her voice was soft like Apollo’s and suffused with grief. “Where is he? Please, please, please. I want him.”
When Radley’s gaze met mine, it was filled with the same fear, which crept through me.
Was Felix safe with Emerald? Who was this succubus who chose to work in a fae reform school to counsel their emotions? I’d heard tales about succubi because they were deadly creatures. They could mesmerize and control, taking pleasure and feeding on it.
After all, a paranormal who forced another to give them pleasure and cared only about taking it was exactly the type who Wells would employ to prove that the love we Forest Fae believed in wasn’t real. Yet surely it couldn’t only be because I was mesmerized that I craved to run to her now and felt through every feather in my wings that she was the emptiness inside me that I’d been running towards my entire life?
The Countess trailed her fingers along my lower back, and I flinched.
“No mistakes, reactions, or emotions,” she whispered like an icy wind. “The first one to err, takes a bite of one of the apples. Won’t it be exciting to see what spells the tree has grown today?” Yeah, thrilling. I gritted my teeth. “The game ends when all three of you play the game with your emotions governed.” She assessed Beau. “Only one of you is even trying right now.”
“Hit me with the first round. I just love the Apple Game.” I winked over my shoulder at the Countess.
She curled her fingers around my neck.
Maybe now wasn’t the time to play the sarcastic card.
“Dictate 44,” she ordered.
“Mate once and for life,” I forced out the words.
I held my hands behind my back, gripping my wrist until it was sweaty. There were a thousand Dictat
es to choose from, and she’d just happened to pick the one, which she’d made me recite at Court every…single…morning.
The Countess nodded, before prowling to Radley. “Dictate 987.”
Radley’s expression soured. “Laugh quietly.”
Beau stiffened, and the Countess’ gaze narrowed. Why was I more nervous for his turn, than I’d been for my own? He was a Court Fae and not one of my mates.
Why did it twist something in me that the Countess was targeting him, as much as me?
“Dictate 782,” she demanded.
When Beau hesitated, my heart clenched.
Had he failed?
The Countess had played this game with the Dictates every day to teach all one thousand of them to us Hostage Lords.
It was why Felix stuttered.
Felix, Radley, and I would line up, the Countess would shoot a number at us, then we’d recite the Dictates back. Except, as we had, we’d be magically attacked by invisible pinches, burns, or spanks to distract us, just enough to make us forget the words. If we’d hesitated, stuttered, or forgotten the Dictate, then we’d been punished.
Felix was brighter than any one I knew. But he was a perfectionist. He hated to fail, which meant that being forced into error had wrecked him.
At least, being with the succubus meant that Felix wasn’t here now. Whatever was happening in his counseling couldn’t be worse than this, right?
“Always act with decorum and as a proper fae,” Beau forced out in a tumble of words.
I held my breath. Would the Countess allow that?
Beau was ashen, and his breathing was too rapid.
At last, the Countess nodded, stalking behind me again. As she did, she leaned down, scooping the red apple out of the basket and onto her wing.
“We’ll play this the traditional fae way.” She bounced the apple up and down like a warning. At the same time, she traced her swan brooch, and I tensed. The Countess had chosen each Dictate to humiliate us. She might consider that I already belonged to her, but I never had. She’d no idea who I truly was, and I wouldn’t allow her the chance to hurt others, whilst I stood here emotionless. If that was being a proper fae, then I was fine with being a scandalous one. “Dictate 887.”
Only bond with permission of the Queen…
Of course, she’d listed one of my most hated Dictates.
Yet if she thought that I’d continue to recite Court Fae propaganda, then she was the one who’d been eating spelled apples.
Instead, I slouched, crossing my arms. Beau hissed in frustration.
“Love whoever’s in your heart. Wait, that’s not in there… Fight the establishment! Nope, that’s wrong as well, okay, give me one more chance, I’ve got this: Never bond with ugly Countesses. Wow, that one’s scarily specific.”
Radley laughed…loudly.
The Countess’ wing thwapped across my face. I cringed at the sickening aroma of marzipan.
“Take a bite out of the apple.” The Countess’ voice coiled with dark anger and desire.
I lowered my mouth to the fruit. When my lips caught the Countess’ feathers, she shivered. Then with a crunch, I bit hard into the apple.
The sweet flavor hit me, as the juices ran down my chin. I took three defiant chews on the apple…and then swallowed.
All of a sudden, the bright day around me in the House of Fae darkened with a lurch. I closed my eyes, grasping my aching guts.
Never trust a fruit, which tasted so sweet.
When I opened my eyes again, my mouth hung open. I was no longer trapped in the Wicked Reform School. I’d been transported into the shadowy coolness of a forest, and I was alone.
I stumbled around in a circle. My feet kicked up wrinkled leaves.
Here it was fall.
The seasons had changed as well.
Except, it hadn’t because this must all be part of the Memory Spell… Nope, probably a Relive It Spell… I mean, it could be a Dream Spell…
So, I didn’t know what spell it was that’d been woven into the apple, but I didn’t care because I knew what forest this was: Hope.
My dad had named Hope Forest, when he’d hidden my tribe from the Queen after the first rebellion. This was the same forest that I’d played in every single day as a kid with my friends, before I’d been taken away to Court, and it was the one place that I’d missed like my soul had been ripped from me.
I stared around the tangle of trees with their white bark. At once, my breathing became easier, and my lungs took in the fresh air like I hadn’t truly been breathing since I’d stepped into the Court. The scent of damp moss and wet tree trunks caressed me like a welcome home. I fell into the hush. Shadows played across my face.
I felt safe, for the first time in a long time.
For once, I didn’t care that this wasn’t real because it simply felt like too much of a blessing.
I grinned, throwing myself down on a bed of leaves, before windmilling my arms and legs through them like I had as a kid. The leaves crackled.
Belenus above, I was alone at last. Why shouldn’t I enjoy it?
I tossed a handful of leaves up, laughing as they fell back down on me. Then I froze. I shouldn’t be alone for my dream bonding. How about Emerald in a non-magical bridal dress?
Felix had described the elaborate weddings from his beloved Shakespeare. I edged my hand towards my prick.
Yeah, I’d just imagine her walking towards me in a white dress and sweeping train…
In a spray of love-heart confetti, Emerald materialized in a wedding dress with a train so long that it wound like a snake between the trees. Her hair was coiled on the top of her head, and she was beautiful.
She was also younger than I’d been able to tell at the culling. She couldn’t be much older than me, surely?
My breath caught. This must be a Fantasy Spell.
I was either the luckiest or unluckiest fae ever because when this spell faded, it’d hurt like being punched in the prick.
A prick that was perking up and taking serious interest in my imaginary bride, who’d hiked up her skirts to stop them catching on the leaves and was stalking towards me with a frustrated expression that made me frown.
I didn’t know that I had a thing for succubi with a dominatrix vibe. I’d imagined that my fantasy would’ve been sweeter and more romantic.
I was kinkier than I thought.
When Emerald leaned over and yanked me up by my wing, I mouthed oww at her.
Okay, way kinkier.
“I was in the middle of a session,” Emerald huffed, soothing my wing without seeming to think. Her voice was American and as soft as smoke; it was also edged with melancholy. “You’re under a spell and you’ve dragged me into it. Some of us can’t just take time off work to lie around and…whatever this is.” She scrunched her nose at the dress. Hey, that dress was fit for a princess. “Look, let’s just get on with it, sexy wings.”
I blinked. Sexy wings? I’d spent many nights wanking to my ideal partner because it’d been taboo: the one thing that us three friends had sworn we’d never willingly take. Yet not one night had it included pet names.
I swallowed. It was time to take back control of this spell. “That’s fine with me, Emerald. Lose the clothes, and I’d rather that you called me My Lord.” I shot her a smug grin.
At least I could have some fun.
Emerald arched her brow. “Seriously, call me Professor Emerald. You know, when I watched you up on that stage about to be parted from your gorgeous head, you appeared nobler than this. Plus, Lord River has been trying to convince me how reformed you are.” Her tongue curled behind her plush lips, and I shivered. “But you’re all bad, aren’t you?”
Why didn’t I just cut off my own head while I was at it?
I stumbled back, tripping over my feet and landing on my ass in the leaves. “You’re really here.”
Her lips twitched. “Uh-huh.”
“You’re the actual counselor, and I just commanded you to…”
Emerald’s eyes glittered, as she slunk closer.
Felix had been working our scheme with her to save the fae because he was smart, but now I’d jeopardized everything.
Don’t let her hate me. Love me, love me, love…
Why did the bond settle around me, as heavy and certain as any wedding band? Did she sense it as well?
I turned away my head. I didn’t want Emerald to read the desire in my eyes, or the way that my skin tingled for her, and my feathers were aflame.
Yet she dropped to her knees next to me, leaning closer and turning back my head with greater gentleness than she’d shown me before. I recognized this side to her from the Day of the Wicked, yet now there was a playfulness bubbling beneath the melancholy.
“…Get naked, My Lord,” Emerald murmured.
I couldn’t suppress the shiver, or the way that the tips of my ears reddened. Then the bodice of Emerald’s dress vanished, and my cheeks flamed as well.
No, no, no…this could not be happening.
Had my subconscious done that? Bad, bad mind…or prick…whoever’s doing this, I order you to stop it.
Although, Emerald did have the most delicious tits. Burn my feathers, was I even staring at her tits now…?
Emerald cocked her head. “My eyes are up here, sexy wings.” I mean, I was only a guy, after all. I had needs. I darted my tongue over my lips. Would it be breaking etiquette if I licked just one nipple? Why hadn’t my tutors taught me anything useful? “You’d think that you’d never seen a female’s naked body before.”
“I haven’t,” I muttered, before blushing. “Did I undress you? On my feathers, I don’t make a habit of stripping my professors…”
Emerald pressed her finger against my lips; it was warm, just like her scent of ginger that heated me inside. “Stop panicking. I’m messing with you. I did it myself. I need to hurry this along.”
I stared at her blankly. “And they’re the romantic words that every guy longs to hear.”
Emerald rubbed herself against me like a snake, before straddling me. “Your Pleasure Spell summoned me, but since I’m meant to be in a counseling session right now, and you’re rather hot and distracting, I thought that I should free us. The spell traps you, until we both receive pleasure.” She nibbled on my ear. “Hey, I find it flattering that you thought of me.”
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