I’d never expected that my first meeting with Emerald would go like this, or that we’d be caught together in a Pleasure Spell. Why couldn’t it have been a simple Self-Pleasure Spell?
I’d had decades to perfect that.
There wasn’t any point in playing it cool, when Emerald already knew that having her in my arms in Hope Forest was what would bring me the greatest pleasure.
Then I froze. Oh, brilliant. She’d been wearing a princess style wedding dress for her grand entrance as well.
I raised my gaze to her amused expression: time to bluff. “You’re my counselor. Is it appropriate for us to be together like this? Anyway, I rather think that you won’t be able to cope with my dark desires.”
Emerald’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not your counselor now. But here’s an interesting theory: do you think that Lord River will witness what happens between us? What if he’s even caught up in the spell?”
She stroked her fingers through my feathers, until I ached. A fae’s wings were as sensitive as his prick, and my prick was now pulsing and hard in my pants. I panted, arching against her.
In turn (because never let it be said that Lord Spring was a selfish lover), I rubbed my fingers experimentally across Emerald’s nubs, and she gasped. Her nipples flushed and peaked. I circled them, swiping them in time with her caresses across my throbbing wingtips.
I could come from this alone…
Then Emerald whispered hot into my ear, “What if Lord River is acting out every stroke of your fingers across my tits?”
I pulled my fingers away from her like I’d been burned. “I don’t want him to touch you,” I blurted out. “What we’re doing right now is mine…ours…not for other students.”
First a wedding dress and then a declaration of…what?
Possessive emotions belonged to Court Fae’s bonds. Why was I surging with them?
Emerald pulled back in surprise, scrutinizing me. “Right now, is only a spell. It’s not real.”
To you maybe…
I shrugged, avoiding her gaze. “Everything in the Wicked Reform School looks false but wow, is it real.” It was more painful than the flames licking through my lungs, but I still managed to force out, “I don’t know why you came to work for the psycho Psychology Department, but you should leave. It’s not only deadly for the students but the professors too. If you’re in danger somehow, then just tell me, and I’ll protect you.”
Emerald tangled our hands together. “You’re under sentence of death and you’re offering to protect me?”
I chuckled. “Thanks a lot. I needed that boost of confidence.”
When she played with my fingers, it felt more intimate than when she’d been stroking my wingtips (and they had a direct line to my prick). “You honestly did look like the noblest leader up on that stage. I hated that any of you were being forced into such a choice. I wish that I was even half as brave.”
Warmth coiled through me, and her gaze was so intent that I could’ve lived forever in it. Then she flushed as well, looking away and pretending to busy herself with brushing a leaf out of my hair.
“The Day of the Wicked is sort of what this reform school is all about,” I said with an edge of steel.
Help us…
I bit my lip to keep in the plea. Perhaps, I’d found the way to save my people, after all.
Except, Emerald ducked her head. “As you said, I’m new here. All I know is that we escape by bringing pleasure to each other, and you’ll feed me at the same time.” She finally raised her gaze to mine. “I take it that you’ve heard that if you give me pleasure, then I’ll feed on it…? Well, I don’t take from the unwilling. So, would you get a kick out of that because talking about your gory death just isn’t a turn-on?”
“I’d do anything for you because you’re my…” I snapped my mouth shut, biting my own tongue to stop bonded spilling out, instead, finishing lamely “…professor.”
“If only all students were so keen to please. I was way too harsh on you before; you’re a good boy.”
With a growl, I twisted her, pinning her beneath me. “I’m no boy.”
Emerald rocked her hips up against the hard prick tenting my pants. “I can feel that. So, what do you desire, My Lord? Chains, knife play, or something more adventurous?” I paled. Could I take back the comment about being no boy? She misunderstood my silence and laughed. “I’ve heard stories about fae.”
I rested my cheek against hers.
Emerald’s heat was so different to the Countess’ coldness. Her fire leaped across to mine; it seared, and yet, I never wanted the flames to go out.
What was she doing to me?
“You’re hotter than any creature who I’ve ever eaten,” she whispered.
“Kiss me and never let me go.”
“You promised something dark. At last, you’re being honest.”
Then she bit my lower lip.
I sucked on her lip in turn, and she moaned. I pressed my tongue into her mouth, and her tongue danced with mine. Beneath the tall trees of my childhood, in the hush of a forest, which I was exiled from and would never see again, the kiss was bittersweet and perfect.
I never wanted it to end.
I closed my eyes, losing myself in the terrifying sensation that I’d discovered love and home and everything that I’d been searching for since I was a kid.
Then Emerald cooled, her scent faded, and there was a sickening lurch that shocked me.
I opened my eyes, only to stare into the Countess’ icy gaze. Her fingers were clutched so tightly around her brooch that the edges bit into her palm; scarlet trickled around the edges.
Remember what I said about possessive…?
I gasped, swaying.
Of course Emerald let go…everyone but the other Hostage Lords always did.
Emerald had only kissed me to escape the spell.
My guts twisted with disappointment. I should’ve known that it’d be a wicked punishment. The Countess always managed to wreck me.
This time when I fell, I wanted to hit the ground.
Only, like always, Radley broke position in the circle, as Odile and Lil Swan scrambled off his feet, to encircle me with his wings before I could.
Radley’s concerned gaze caught mine, but I only shook my head. I’d never talk about Emerald in front of the Countess, when my lips were still tingling with our kiss, and my eyes burned with the tears of her loss.
When the Countess eyed the hard-on still tenting my pants, I realized why she was bubbling with such jealousy. “How could you corrupt this game with your depravity? Who were you dreaming about?”
“It was an orgy beside the mermaids’ lake.” I palmed my prick through my pants. The Countess’ eyes widened. Sometimes, she was too easy a mark. “First, there were the Nephilim, the glorious half angels, because who doesn’t fancy a glowing asshole? Wait, can I take back that image? Then, the mermaids sauntered out to join us. I’d always wondered if their hair below matched their rainbow locks. But that’s a secret I’ll never tell. I’ll just say this: with their talent at kissing, there’s no doubt that they’re the offspring of Aphrodite. Finally, the kraken felt left out, so he came bursting out of the water, and who’d have thought it, but he was the tenderest lover with all those tentacles exploring so many holes all at the same time…”
Radley bit on his thumb to smother his laugh.
“You’re lying.” The Countess tossed down the basket, and the remaining apples rolled towards the cygnets.
“Apple attack!” Odile squeaked, sheltering behind Lil Swan.
Beau shot out his foot to block the apples, before it hurt the shifters. Radley nodded his thanks across the circle.
Why would Beau risk breaking position to help us? Although, that meant we’d all failed the game…
The Countess smiled, frostily. “You still believe that you don’t need to tell me the truth. Fascinating. But now the Apple Game begins again. How many rounds do you think you’ll have to play?”
Beau doubled over in as much frustration at himself as us. “Why can’t you learn? Just hide your feelings. Stop—”
The Countess snatched Beau by the wing. “You’re the worst out of all of them.” Her tongue flickered out. “I can taste your disgusting emotions: Jealousy, anger, and unrequited love.”
My eyes widened. Unrequited love?
I stared at the way that Beau’s beautiful face had pinked, and his chest rose and fell too rapidly like he was struggling to hold in the emotions, which the Countess was accusing him of… like loving me.
How had I missed him caring for me for all these years? Were Court Fae truly so good at hiding their emotions, even if it hurt them?
“You’re wrong,” Beau’s voice was tear-tinged. “And even if you’re right, no more than you.”
He. Was. Dead.
To my surprise, however, the Countess laughed, low and dangerous. “So, you do have the same bite as your father.” She twisted his wingtip, and he howled. “Are you going to weep now?”
Radley and I circled the Countess.
Beau was a snooty Court Fae, but if he loved me, then that made him mine, and we Fae Lords always protected what was ours.
“Let him go,” I ordered. “If making fae cry is one of your kinks, then save it for when we’re bonded.” Yeah, like I’d ever spend eternity in tears with her, when I’d tasted pleasure with Emerald. Yet by the way that her breath hitched, I knew that she was imagining it. “He’s off-limits.”
Beau stared at me in shock, before his eyes lit with tentative hope. When the Countess let go of him, however, and he curled his wings around himself, he’d already frozen back into haughty indifference.
The Countess’ gaze slid between us. “I’m ending this game.”
When she snatched up Lil Swan, Radley cried out in alarm. I didn’t dare move, in case the Countess crushed the shifter.
Odile huddled behind Beau’s boot.
“Let me go, bitch.” Lil Swan’s feet pedaled through the air. “I’ll kick your skinny ass.”
“One final round of the Apple Game.” The Countess’ lips curled upwards, smugly. “If you lose,” she glanced at Beau, “then I’ll take great delight in telling the Duke of Wells that a Court Fae performed worse than a Forest Fae at controlling his emotions. How do you think he’ll discipline you this week?” Beau shuddered. I didn’t blame him because the consequence of such a failure would be swift and brutal. “If either of you Hostage Lords lose, then…” Her fingers tightened around Lil Swan, and the cygnet hissed. “I’ll kill your swan.”
“If you hurt my shifter, I’ll rip off your wings and beat you to death with them,” Radley snarled.
He meant it.
The Countess merely turned her back to him like he was no more dangerous than Odile. “You won’t because the wards won’t allow you to, and even if they did, it’d mean your much more agonizing execution. But now that you have the impotent rage out of your system, shall we begin? Dictate 7,” she snapped at Beau.
Control yourself…
She’d given Beau an easy one. She wanted him to win, and our shifter to die. Was she punishing me for turning my spell on its head and taking pleasure in my punishment?
Was this my fault for not breaking?
Beau was staring at me across the circle. His expression was inscrutable.
Control yourself…
Why wasn’t he saying it?
My hands clenched, and sweat dampened the back of my neck. I forced myself to nod reassuringly at Lil Swan, as she hung in the Countess’ hands.
Control yourself…
Beau swallowed. “Don’t raise your voice.”
But that was Dictate 56.
I studied Beau’s shuttered expression and I knew: he’d deliberately got it wrong.
“Why would you…? The Duke of Wells will make you regret that tonight.” The Countess hurled Lil Swan at Radley, and he caught her.
“Be careful, you’re breaking the Dictate,” I drawled.
I smiled at Beau. He wasn’t simply a Court Fae any longer. He’d risked himself for Lil Swan and that made him my mate.
Even though Beau was shaking and pale with fear, the corners of his lips lifted in response almost like he wasn’t quite certain how to form a smile. But also like it was the most precious thing in the world to him.
The Countess pointed at each of us in turn. “Nobody can say that I didn’t try, but I was wrong. You do need the special methods of the new Emotions Counselor. You’re the wickedest students in the House of Fae. This week you’ll have sessions, and then you’ll see that love is nothing but a myth. It won’t save you from Professor Emerald and on Saturday, it won’t halt your deaths.”
CHAPTER SIX
Wicked Reform School, House of Fae, Dormitory
Tuesday 27th April
I glanced around the House of Fae’s dormitory. Even though it was pitch-black without windows in the bottom of the turret, I was so used to the dark that I could still make out shadowy outlines and movement.
It was the hour before dawn.
I’d always been able to sense twilight, as if the sun was singing to my magic. If I hadn’t been flooded with such unease about Beau, I’d have thrilled with the call of the coming dawn.
But Beau had been missing all night.
Last evening, the Countess had sent Beau to report directly to Wells, and Beau had never returned.
Had he been sentenced to the Detention Centers with their flesh eaters or…worse?
I knew that it was down to the same possessiveness, which had surged through me ever since Emerald had become my new obsession, but Beau felt like mine now. I hadn’t grown up with him like Felix or Radley, but he’d still risked himself to save our shifters.
On my wing, did loving me always lead to punishment or death?
Step right up, ladies and gentlemen, the catch of the century (warning: risk of decapitation and flaying).
I shuddered. Beau would survive. He was a Court Fae; they were tough. They had to be.
I squirmed, shifting on the cold, golden floor. Would it’ve killed the staff to have granted us blankets? Although, if this was an imaginary list of privileges, then why not think big and throw in some mattresses?
The basement room was empty apart from feathered piles of naked sleeping fae, cuddling each other for warmth, touch, and comfort. As outcasts, us Hostage Lords had been banished to the far side. The cygnets slept in a fluffy pile next to us.
Walk through the dormitory doors… Come on, Beau, just return to us…
Yet every other night, I’d ignored Beau. I’d barely noticed the way that he’d walked to a lonely spot to sleep huddled by himself.
No wonder he was touch deprived.
Who sent a Court Fae to serve their sentence amongst Forest Fae?
I should’ve noticed Beau before, but he’d been too well trained at not making a fuss.
Then I’d just have to make one for him.
My malevolent grin was back, as I snuggled down amongst my brotherhood of guys. It was my turn to stand guard over our nightmares. Each night, we took turns watching over each other in sleep. It was the ultimate test of both trust and love.
They saved me, even in my sleep.
I ran my hand over the discarded emerald collar in disgust.
Felix had run his hand over Apollo’s neck, as we’d settled down for the night. The collar that was meant to be impossible to remove, had snapped open.
Felix had grinned. “How lucky.”
Apollo had transformed back into his stunning human form in a spray of ivory glitter.
When Apollo’s long leg twitched, and he whined, I edged closer. His eyes flickered behind his eyelids, and his strong hands clenched. I brushed his white hair, which was wavy and as soft as his feathers in swan form, out of his face. His cheek bones were high; his lips were so petal soft that I longed to kiss them. There was nothing soft about the hard muscles sculpting his chest, however, even if he chose not to
fight.
He’d already witnessed too much death.
Apollo’s breathing sped up, and he twisted side to side.
“Nay,” he breathed, “stop, stop, stop…”
I hated this moment.
Shaking a mate out of a nightmare and into a reality that was just as bad was agonizing. Wells and the staff didn’t understand that the pain of moments like this and the courage to overcome them strengthened us students, until we could face the trials that they threw at us.
Even spelled apples or flesh eaters.
I hoped.
My lips pinched together, as my own heartbeat fluttered in my chest in time with Apollo’s. Then I leaned over him, stroking my hand across his cheek.
“You’re having a nightmare,” I whispered. “Come back to me, in the name of the forest.”
It was all it ever took. Perhaps, our shifters were bound to us by more than collars and cruelty. I hoped so.
Apollo’s startlingly bright blue eyes snapped open on a gasp like he was dying or being reborn. He grasped for me, as if it was instinct, hooking his arms around my neck.
“Ma!” His whisper was choked and frantic.
Apollo was caught in that moment between waking and sleeping, when the nightmare was still real. When he’d been taken from his mum as a cygnet, she’d tried to battle the fae.
They’d murdered her in front of Apollo.
We all had our reasons for our nightmares here in the Wicked Reform School.
At last, Apollo’s cloudy gaze cleared, and he focused on me. Then he flushed with embarrassment.
I kissed him, before he could apologize. Then I rested my forehead against his. “We live for our brothers.”
“Aye,” he whispered back, “we live for our brothers.” Then he wriggled closer to me, stroking across the hollow of my back. I shivered, as his fingers strayed lower. His scent of wild daffodils wound around me. “But I’m meant to be comforting your blue-blooded arse after that cold bitch took you away. At least let me give you a massage.”
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