When she held up the letter, Willoughby let out a holler. The contents were projected in curling letters across the indigo of the roof; the robins fluttered in panic, diving away to hide.
Brother,
As much as it pains me to even think of you, I write this letter to urge you to listen to your professors, control your murderous urges, and curb your dangerous impulses.
Every day, the kingdom calls for your execution. You deserve to die. I’m certain that you believe a killer should pay for their crime. Yet you’re royal, even if deposed, and so I must settle for imprisonment.
Even so, with such clamoring for your death, only good report from the Rebel Academy will save you.
Do not forget why you’re paying penance. If I must live with the grief of your treason, then so must you.
Willoughby dropped to his knees, as the words faded. His breathing was ragged like he was battling tears. But the Ice Prince didn’t do anything as mundane as cry, surely?
“Huh, just bask in that brotherly love,” Sleipnir drawled. His fists clenched. “Your king is a dick.”
I crouched next to Willoughby, sparkling my magic soothingly across his skin, until he raised his head to look at me. “It wasn’t hollow sentiment. I don’t care what you did before, or do you judge me on being the witch whose wards trap you?”
“You should care.” Willoughby’s voice was raspy with suppressed tears, as he gripped me by the shoulders. His gaze met Lysander’s. “Are you happy now that I’ve been revealed as the monster who you’ve always believed me to be?” He shoved me away, before stalking to the door, swinging it open. His voice was small. “Stay away from me.”
“I suggest that this means the Immortals won today.” My voice was unsteady, but I forced out the words like toads. “After all, the elf has forfeited by attempting to leave.”
Willoughby froze, before shooting a guilty glance over his shoulder at Midnight. Yet when I studied Fox’s curls and the whipping boy outfit that matched the one Robin had been made to wear, I knew that this class was Strategy, and I’d just won.
When the prize was Fox’s life, I’d play the war game.
Damelza’s grin fizzed with malicious delight, as she linked our arms like we were now best friends. I wanted to hurl.
Was there such a thing as Witch Sickness?
“Excellently played. Whatever you claim, you are a Crow. If only you hadn’t fallen in silly love, you’d have made the most brilliant Blessedly Charmed witch. Our House would’ve been the envy of every coven. Well, there’s no good crying over spilled magic.” She waved at Ezekiel. “Today is won by the Immortals.” I looked down, trying to hide my grin. Fox wouldn’t die. Sweet Hecate, we had one more day to save him… “How exciting! The outcome to the Rebel Cup will be decided on the final day: Torment Thursday.” Then she whispered like she was promising a treat, “Torment Thursday is the most dangerous and thrilling in the contest.”
My mouth tightened. “With a name like that, I’d never have guessed.”
Damelza wrenched away from me, and her expression hardened. “How are you finding this second life? Is it everything that you imagined in those long years trapped as a ghost?”
My breath hitched. Was that a threat?
I glanced at the guys who’d saved, welcomed, and loved me. They’d helped me adapt to a world and sensations that could’ve been strange and frightening, transforming them into the pleasurable and exciting, instead. I’d been dead inside, but now I was alive.
I craved my lovers’ pleasure, and their pleasure fed my craving. I’d never imagined that love or pleasure could feel like this, and I never wished it to end.
I smiled, softly. “I’m a Ghost Witch, and I’ve only just started to live.”
Panic skated across Damelza’s face, before a cool mask settled in its place. She fiddled with the feather behind her ear. “We shall see.” Witches’ tits, that was decidedly a threat. “But now, the Duchess from the Succubi Court is waiting in my study for Crave. It’s time that she inspects you, boy, to make sure that you’re pure and reformed.”
Bask’s eyes widened, and he shook his head. He stumbled backward, but Damelza gripped his arm.
“Please, don’t,” Bask begged.
I might’ve been naïve in my first life, but now that’d been knocked right out of me. Bask was my incubus. I wouldn’t let the succubus who’d broken him and his bond, sending him to this academy, return to inspect and hurt him just like Willoughby’s brother had with his letter. I knew now that I needed all my lovers, and it was their joint pleasure that’d brought me to life. At the start, I hadn’t understood just how much that was true, but this week, the academy had taught me how close I was to each Rebel.
The lessons might be Transfiguration, Warrior Training, or Divination, but in the end, I’d learned to love.
“Why in sweet Hecate’s name would you think us Immortals would let you take our lover?” I raised my brow, as Sleipnir and Fox strode either side of me, and Mist roared in agreement.
“Your second life,” Damelza shrugged. “Shall I copy your mother and burn you? What if I cast the spell to trap you in Hecate’s tree?”
My heartbeat thundered in my ears, and I became dizzy.
The agony of the flames… Then all alone and dark, dark, dark…
All right, I might’ve gone more than a little crazy. But I couldn’t go back to that twilight between veils.
Hecate, no….
Damelza gripped Bask, and he struggled to pull away from her. Yet how could I stop Damelza, when her charm controlled my powers?
At that moment, it didn’t matter if I lost everything for a second time because I couldn’t allow the Duchess to hurt Bask. I’d saved my mage lover from dying today, but the first Rebel whose craving had called to me, summoning me from the portrait had been the one secretly in danger all along.
I wouldn’t let him suffer alone, even if it killed me.
With a burst of magic that I pulled from the air, reaching into the waves of nature, I focused on fading, thread by thread, to invisibility. Crow feathers rained down around Damelza, cocooning both Bask and her in darkness. I wrapped my own magic around hers like ivy, gritting my teeth at the lashing static.
I’d never piggybacked on another witches’ magic before. Would I burn up, flaring into nothing?
Please, let me not be lost (trapped between worlds), forever…
Damelza dematerialised, dragging me along with her. Her magic pulled me too close to Bask, until I pressed against his hard chest. I bit my lip to hold back the scream, as I was electrocuted by her spell.
Then everything went dark.
Continue Magenta’s adventure in REBEL ACADEMY: CRUSH, Book Two in the WICKEDLY CHARMEDseries HERE NOW
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Author Note
Crush — Book Two in the Wickedly Charmed series — is already written, so you can continue Magenta and her Rebels’ adventures! The trilogy is COMPLETE and available to order NOW HERE. When I attended Christ Church College, Oxford, I was always daydreaming about a hidden magical college. Rebel Academy is the result, and I hope that you love exploring the secret Oxford college. I can’t wait for you to discover the battle between the Immortals and Princes in the next book with the seductive temptation of the forbidden!