No, no, no…
My legs buckled, and I fell to my knees. I wrapped my hands over my head like I could block out…everything.
It was Hector all over again.
I’d promised to keep Fox safe, but Bacchus had warned that the Princes were fiercely competitive over the Rebel Cup.
I couldn’t watch Fox die.
As if she understood, Bacchus crouched down, firmly pulling my arms away from my head. “Did hiding ever help you before?”
Rule 65 of the Incubi Night Code: Never hide because punishment is always worse once you’re found.
I shook my head.
“Then let me see your claws, panther, and ensure that you win the Rebel Cup. You may not even be here at the end of the week to see the punishments carried out.” My pulse pounded in my temples at the way that her expression gentled into pity. Wow, that was a disturbing look on her. “Darling, you fight me like I’m not on your side, but believe me, I am. I’m not meant to warn you but then, the Duchess is Damelza’s guest this week. I have a feeling that if you win the Rebel Cup, you’ll be the student who’s freed into her custody.”
Don’t cry… Tears make you ugly… Nobody loves an ugly incubus…
I took desperate gasps, struggling to hold back my tears. All of a sudden, Bacchus’ hands were on my shoulders, steadying me. Pocus leaped into my lap, rubbing his head against my legs in comfort. But their touch felt muted and far away because I was back in the Duchess’ palace, as she’d trained me.
As she’d broken me.
I’d been made to lie down but lever myself up onto my fingertips and toes, so that I didn’t touch the marble floor, which the Duchess had then lit with a magical fire. For an hour, I’d managed to hold myself up, but my shoulders had quivered with the strain, and my thighs had ached.
The Duchess had watched me calmly from the bed.
All the Duchess’ other incubi (she’d bonded with four, and I was the youngest, lucky me), had swooned at her beauty: her flowing red hair and peachy skin. But she’d treated me differently to the rest because I’d been the weird kid. She’d only chosen me because she’d been excited by the challenge of the Night son who’d been known to be different.
Ma had tried to keep me in the shadows and away from the Succubi Court, but the Duchess had still selected me.
You could never hide.
“Stand up, if it hurts,” the Duchess’ words had been quiet, yet they’d rung inside my mind, “but then you won’t please me. It’s your choice.”
I’d despaired because I hadn’t understood. Where was the choice, when you were hardwired to please? Instead, I’d collapsed onto the fire.
The next day, she’d repeated the training.
Except, she hadn’t said a word.
“Please,” I’d gasped, as my arms had shaken.
“Please, what?” The Duchess had been reading a book and hadn’t even glanced up.
“Please tell me what you wish. What do you desire? I want to be yours.” I’d ached to be hers because that was what a bond was like. I’d been young and hopeful still
I’d just craved to be loved.
“I want…” The Duchess had slipped in a bookmark, before placing down her book. She’d folded her hands in her lap. My heart had clenched, and I’d been flooded with joy that I could at last please her. “…you to hurt yourself.”
I’d shuddered, willing the tears that were matting my eyelashes not to fall.
Please, don’t let her see them.
I’d bitten my lip to hide my disappointment, before I’d let myself fall onto the fire.
The following day, I’d been back in the same position, but this time the Duchess had towered over me, watching me with a hungry intensity. She’d been taller than me, and I’d never felt it as much as in that moment.
“Beg me,” she’d whispered, “beg me to let you burn yourself.”
At last, Bacchus’ quiet words reached me again like I was rising up from the bottom of a dark river, along with Pocus’ purr, “It takes a cruel trauma to break a bond. Taming a guy is one thing but… If I had my choice, she wouldn’t get a second chance.”
It was a struggle to remember Rule 3 of the Incubus Night Code: An incubus must mask their true feelings.
I kept my gaze lowered as I asked with difficulty, “She wishes to take me back?”
Maybe I could get Bacchus to transform me into a Pomeranian before then…? Fox would love to carry my fluffy cuteness around in a satchel.
Bacchus’ lips thinned. “She’s here to inspect your progress.”
I knew what inspect meant.
I needed to hurl. But whatever happened, I had to hide it from the other Rebels because their love was real, and if the Duchess did take me away again, then I wanted something to hold onto that was untarnished by fear or sadness. I craved just one week of love to keep me warm for the rest of my life.
Don’t let them learn the truth…not like this…
I could be brave if it gave them the illusion that we were safe in our love for one week.
“That means no touching any of the Immortals for the next week. Damelza even struck Magenta, whose new name is Crow, with a powerful Incubus Repellent hex.” Wow, that was rude. “She’ll be hit with an electric shock if she goes within three inches of you, which would be admittedly amusing.”
I paled. No touch…? I’d go crazy, and worse, my hair would go lank.
“I can’t survive a week without—”
“Sorry, didn’t I say?” Bacchus’ grin was wicked, as Pocus jumped back onto her shoulder. “The Princes will take turns massaging you.”
I choked on my own tongue.
So much for not being punished.
Although, the thought of the Princes being forced to serve my sexy self, made it worth it (especially the coldly regal elf).
Could I choose what they wore? I sighed. Juni seemed the type who’d go for it.
Yep, Willoughby in a maid’s outfit: fantasy role-play Number 49. And Sleipnir had told me it’d been a waste of an evening to make that role-play list.
Bacchus dragged me to my feet, before shoving me towards the Conqueror Gym. “I take it that you’re clear about not touching the Immortals? You’ll just have to love yourself, darling. At least you’ve had plenty of experience, and so has your hand.”
I blushed. But who was I kidding? She was right. I wiggled my fingers: you’re not out of a job, boys.
I trotted into the gym, which streamed with sunshine from the wide windows out over the river, only to be faced with the frowning angelic Professor of Dueling, Ezekiel, as the class waited on my slinky arse. I ran a hand through my hair in case a morning without snuggling had already forced me to lose my edge and brought on Ezekiel’s I’m five seconds from spanking you face (which was admittedly scorching hot).
Nope, I still had it.
I ducked my head: time for the innocent face. Away with you, I was better than Puss in Boots at it. “Sorry.”
Ezekiel’s expression gentled. He tucked his beautiful violet wings behind him, whilst studying me with his equally violet eyes. As an Addict Angel — angels who became obsessed with the human world, which was forbidden by the dick angels who considered themselves purer in Angel World — he wore only ash harem trousers.