Fox held me up around my waist and hid his snicker against my neck.
“Don’t think to escape.” Damelza held up her finger warningly. As if I would without my lovers. “It’s against protocol to ask Hecate to brand a witch, but if you decide to go for walkies, I’ll simply punish the whipping boy who you like to lick.”
I straightened, stiffening. I’d seen the shrewd look, which Damelza was using to assess me, before on mother, as she’d studied Robin and me.
Damelza would exploit my attachment, and it’d destroy me.
I pushed away from Fox, despite his hurt expression. “He’s not my whipping boy.”
“Since I’m appointing you Prefect of the Immortals, you’ll find that you’re in fact responsible and in charge of both the Immortals and the whipping boy who they’re patron to.” Damelza’s lips pinched. “Crown is the academy’s only other Prefect, so you’ll have to work closely with him.”
“Crown…?” I asked.
“Prince Lysander.”
“No,” I barked, before I could stop myself.
“No, you didn’t curse the academy so that I spent my childhood shivering, the boys here freeze in their Wings, and we all wade through nothing but snow and ice because of you…?”
I shrank against the wall. She was right. My power in its loss and grief had done that.
I’d condemned every Rebel and witch to suffer alongside me.
Damelza’s fingers tapped on the armrests. “Just one more thing. Crave is special. The Duchess who was once bonded with him is my guest this week and will be inspecting him to see if the sharp shock of his time with us has helped him see the errors of his rebellious nature, which means that he must remain unbonded and pure.”
The breath caught in my throat. Who was this Duchess? If she’d once been bonded to Bask, she certainly wasn’t now. Yet she wanted to inspect him like he was still her property?
Was she attempting to claim him back?
Fox stared at Damelza. “Pure, as in: we can’t touch him?”
Damelza’s expression hardened. “We must respect incubi culture.”
“Why?” I hadn’t seen Fox’s gaze so steely before. “I don’t respect some bitch who thinks that she owns Bask. Loving someone won’t make him dirty.”
Damelza yawned. “Your self-righteousness is tiring, Confess, I’m bored, and your brands have already been set so that you can’t touch him.”
Fox gasped. “But he’s an incubus. It’s torture for him not to be touched.”
“The Princes have offered to massage him so that he can still function.” She waved her hand. “A separate bed has been added into the West Wing.”
I eyed her. “How charmingly naïve that you’re prepared to simply trust me.”
Damelza snorted. “I wouldn’t trust you, if you shaved your head and became a devout acolyte to Hecate.”
Damelza clicked her fingers, and I shrieked, as an electric charge hit me, vibrating across my skin. My legs buckled, and I fell to my knees on the thick carpet.
Vaguely, I heard shouting (Fox defending me just as if he was Lancelot, although without the sword), and at last the hex stopped. I shuddered, and even my gums tingled.
“Just a little something that I developed last night to keep you at least three inches apart from Crave at all times, otherwise you’ll be given an electric shock. Look but don’t touch; you should be used to that,” Damelza crowed. Dazedly, I realized why she had shadows under her eyes. She must’ve stayed up last night working on the spell, which had already seeped through my skin and into my bones. It felt heavy and wrong. “Now onto the whipping boy’s punishment because I don’t want you to miss your first classes.”
“Woah, I thought that I was the one with the bright idea…? Why don’t we say this has all worked out and give that student a reward?” Fox flashed Damelza a winning smile.
Damelza pushed herself up, pressing on the wall behind her, which slid open to reveal a trophy: The Rebel Cup. I’d watched from the window of the Bird Turret, as it’d been presented below in the grounds at the end of the first week each term. It was a huge obsidian trophy, which was in the shape of a dragon. The dragon’s tail wound around the cup and back into its flaming mouth.
Fox whistled. “I was only expecting a gold star.”
Damelza caressed the snout of the dragon. “The Rebel Cup is a cherished tradition. To the parents of the Princes, it’s a cause of great pride if they win. Every day, either the Immortals or the Princes will win a contest, and at the end of the week, the overall winner will be awarded the Rebel Cup at the Dragon Polo Tournament.”
How many times had I wished to be allowed to be part of this tradition? But now, dread pooled in me at the creepy satisfaction in Damelza’s smile.
Ah, the advantages of thinking like a witch.
“So, I’m banned from taking part?” Fox rocked on his heels. “Yeah, I’m heartbroken. How about I take my sobbing self back to the West Wing?”
“On the contrary, yours is the most essential role.” Damelza’s fingers closed like claws around the Rebel Cup. “Curse and you, the whipping boys, have just become the stakes.” Her glance at me was triumphant. “As punishment for resurrecting Crow, whichever team loses the contest, shall have their whipping boy executed.”
Lightheaded, my vision dimmed. I staggered, as I forgot that I needed to breathe.
I couldn’t have been brought to life, simply for the mage to die. I couldn’t cause another’s death again.
My legs melted into mists and then my hands. This time, however, the fading was my choice. A cold wind blasted through the study, tossing my file like paper crows furiously across the room and pecking against Damelza’s face in retaliation. Fox watched in awe. Damelza waved her hand, and the wall closed with a snap, shielding the Rebel Cup.
“I’m terribly sorry,” my eyes glowed with raging flames, “but you shan’t hurt either whipping boy.”
I thrust my black mists to crush Damelza, but she shrugged them off like they were nothing but a summer breeze. I stared at her in shock. My strength coursed through my ghost form. Was she truly so much stronger than me?
My word, that was frightening.
“The professors wear charms, so that we can’t use our powers against them,” Fox muttered. “Her Anti-Me one is the feather in her hair.”
Deflated, I drew back my mists.
Damelza chuckled. “The Anti-You one I also invented last night and cast on all the professors. I’ve always been especially talented at charms. Is your tantrum over now?”
“I won’t permit you to kill him,” I growled.
“Hecate above, are you as dim as the mage?” Damelza sighed. “If you wish him to live, then win the Rebel Cup.”
Fox sidled closer to Damelza. “Look, this is my punishment. I’ve been a bad fox, I get it. But why drag this other poor bastard into it? Couldn’t he just be put into Time Out or something if the Princes lose?”
For the first time, Damelza’s smile was genuine. “See, you’re learning already. Curse is a pathetic excuse for a Fallen, but the Princes appear to take pleasure in the games that they play with him.” I shuddered at the same time as Fox. “I’m in a generous mood. If they lose, I’ll only break his wings.”
Why, my family were truly the spirit of generosity.