Why did it feel like a prison?
I should’ve been honored that I’d been granted a place as a Rebel student… Wait, did I mean honored or terrified…?
I hunched my shoulders, clutching my suitcase closer to my chest, and that didn’t make me feel at all like I was hiding from…whoever…was watching me from the shadows.
I’d known that it’d be hard to attend the academy as a mage, even though this was the one place where wars were put aside, but I hadn’t thought that I’d be in danger on my first night. Although technically, I hadn’t been supposed to arrive until tomorrow morning.
Did that count as being uninvited and a hexable offense…?
“How original to hold Hell Week before term even starts.” I bit my lip to hide its trembling. I’d expected bullying, but it was still disappointing...okay, devastating. “You can just skip the hazing because I’m already known as Lucifer in witches’ circles: hot, rebellious, and a devil at chess.” So, I admit it, I have a habit of lying. “You caught me out. I’m actually a devil at Monopoly: The Covens Edition.”
I wrinkled my nose against the stink of garlic that wafted from the altar. Did the House of Crows, who ran the academy, believe that it protected them against vampires? They should’ve known that the whole garlic myth was as false as a witch’s promise.
But then, witches had more centuries-old wars and vendettas against other supernaturals (vampires, werewolves, and mages), than ancient rules and they had a cauldron full of those.
So, it sucked to be a mage born to witches…like me.
I grimaced, rubbing at the silver Blood Amulet that hung around my neck beneath my shirt, searing my skin. The blue diamond set in its center matched my eyes, but a guy couldn’t find the romance, when it contained his own mum’s blood and was used to bind his shifter powers. The Blood Amulet stopped me from being able to do magic. Yet it couldn’t contain my ability to read the truth, which was the magical power of Confess.
I could always sense the truth, but telling lies myself was much more fun.
My natural shifter powers hissed inside at the cruelty of being trapped by mum’s Blood Magic and at the prickling sensation that pressed down from the crenelated but weirdly colorful towers.
The magic here was ancient and dark. The hairs on the back of my nape rose, as my pulse pounded.
I would’ve guessed that mum had been lying about this castle being the infamous Rebel Academy, if not for the way that she’d stroked my hair from my forehead and then kissed my cheek, before leaving me outside the ground’s wards to make my own way through the woods to the House of Crows.
Kisses didn’t lie…unlike me.
Plus, I couldn’t miss the RA crest that sparkled in neon pink and was surrounded in unfurling tree branches. It sizzled in the air above a giant bronze statue of three Hecates, who were standing back-to-back: one held a torch, another a key, and a third a snake.
Had the academy’s principal thought that one creepy goddess wasn’t enough, so she’d better clone her?
Every few minutes, the statues startled me by slinking to life and smirking as they swung their hips. Their snake slithered between them, as if to prove that a guy’s dick would now be redundant.
I blushed, whilst the goddesses sang the school’s motto to the tune of “I Put a Spell on You”:
Welcome to the Rebel Academy! Live and Die as Rebels.
I arched my brow. “Let’s focus on the living, sweet goddess. I’m rebelling against dying.”
I blinked snowflakes off my lashes, shaking them from my wavy white blond hair; the snow melted down my cheeks like tears.
Why did Hecate have to remind me about dying? I’d been hiding from that truth all day.
My eyes burned, but I wouldn’t let the tears fall. Just like I wouldn’t let myself die in this academy like I was a shameful secret just the same as my dad. I’d been dropped off here straight after his funeral. I yanked at the sleeve of my suit, which was too short, gritting my teeth.
Dad would’ve hated the sea of black at his funeral; he’d always shone like the sun. He’d lit my dark world but now he was gone, and I’d been sent to this witches’ world that was cursed to perpetual winter.
Wasn’t the cursing a little melodramatic…?
Plus, there was all the snow, when there’d been bright sunshine outside the academy’s grounds. I was regretting my final act of defiance in not bringing a coat.
Maybe that was how the Rebels died…their balls froze and dropped off.
Suddenly, a bitter wind blew away my misted breath and then puffed across my own mouth, as if a spirit was whispering words across my lips.
I paled, and my eyes widened.
Was there a ghost in the courtyard with me? Was that who’d been watching me from the shadows?
I spun in a circle. “Dad…?”
My chest ached.
Please, please, please…
The sudden cold nipped me again but this time it stroked down my cheek as if in comfort. A faint smell like yew trees wrapped around me. It was rich and dangerously intoxicating.
It wasn’t dad… Not dad, not dad, not…
Why did it feel like losing him for a second time? Yet I still relaxed into the touch, needing its tenderness and the way that it zinged through my ensnared magic like it knew what was inside me and understood. The ghost could be the Wicked Witch, but I’d still take her kindness after I’d lost my dad, family, and home.
A warm sensation far back in my mind tugged at me like she was my home.
So, there was some spook with soft breath haunting this castle prison…? So far, she was the best welcoming committee that I’d had.
The Dancing Goddesses and their Performing Snake didn’t count.
“Who are you then?” I murmured, straining to make out even an outline.
I hurled down my suitcase, wafting my hands through the air in front of me. My fingers tingled with the desperation to touch, but I couldn’t feel anything.
My eyes pricked with tears again, until that same cool breath whispered across my ear. I jumped and then laughed. My joy echoed through the bailey, and all three of Hecates’ statues tutted.
Witching heavens, maybe I wouldn’t be alone here, even if I was a mage.
I bounced on the balls of my feet in excitement. “I’m Fox of the House of Jewels. You’ve probably heard of me: lover, legend, and liar.” The puff of air against my neck was definitely a laugh. My lips curled into a smile. “Laughing at me already? So, you have heard of me?”
When the smell of yew trees faded along with the icy breath, I booted the cobbles, rubbing at my neck.
Why did she have to fade away?
The Rebel Ghost had made me feel safer than I had in a long time, and if she was another student here, then I wanted her back.
I prowled to the altar, which was black with crows’ feathers and charred birds’ skulls. My suit was too tight and pulled across my chest, as well as rubbing at my dick and balls. Mum still saw me as the boy who she’d locked away for having magic. She didn’t realize that I’d turned into a man.