Lysander's outraged expression was delicious. He opened his mouth, before snapping it shut.
Midnight cradled Willoughby in his wings, pulling him into our snuggle pile. Willoughby's eyes fluttered open sleepily, before he smiled as he met my gaze.
"It worked," he rasped.
I nodded.
It felt right to sleep together on the thick carpet, instead of the beds that were symbols of the Princes' kingdoms that'd deposed and punished them.
Yet Midnight wouldn’t be able to sleep…
“I’ll stay awake with you,” I whispered, fiercely.
Midnight shook his head. “You sleep, and I’ll watch over you.”
I hooked a leg over Lysander, and an arm around Willoughby. Midnight laid his wings over us all, as if they were a feathered blanket.
His happiness soared through the bond. Had the Princes ever slept together?
"Goodnight," Midnight breathed like a prayer.
I kissed him lightly. "Good night, my knight. Well, isn’t that the tongue twister?”
Yet it was worth it because Midnight's eyes gleamed, and he shivered with desperate joy.
These three powerful creatures in my arms were predators. We were all wicked. They weren't controlled or tamed.
And I'd never wish them to be.
Although I'd freed Midnight from the Mind Curse, tomorrow I had the wards to bring down, and they were bound intricately with my own magic.
Was I fighting myself?
Together, both Immortals and Princes had to plan an Enchanted Ball that’d trick both the professors and families, as well as destroy the Membership once and for all.
Lysander had rebelled against Titus. Juni had warned me how dangerous that’d be. For a Court Fae, it meant death.
Was that where I was leading these Rebels? If I lost both Princes and Immortals, I’d long for the days when I’d been trapped alone in Hecate’s Tree.
I'd learned with Robin that the more you loved someone, the more it hurt when they died for you.
Chapter Twenty-Two
BASK
Was it possible to be at supreme pettability level but at the same time suffer hair limpness because of stress?
No incubus of the ancient Night lineage had ever sacrificed so much hair product in the line of duty.
I deserved a medal but I wouldn’t demand one. I was just that much of a hero (snicker, of course).
I snuggled with Magenta on the couch in the Rebel Café, treating myself to a nuzzle of her sweet neck. My dick thickened, and my balls ached. Her wild woods scent coiled around the room, and her magic sparkled like dancing fairies along the roof.
Talking of fairies, it was a fine thing to watch Lysander sprawled on the floor, which had softened to carpet, as if he was no longer too proud to lie at the Immortals’ feet.
Adorable.
Willoughby clasped his arms casually around Lysander like their cuddling wasn’t as surprising as the way that it was their whipping boy who now curled on the couch with his beautiful ash wings wrapped around Fox.
Why was Fox so pale? He looked as tired as Midnight.
Note to self: Magenta’s slinky ass (or had it been her gorgeous tits?) was enough to overturn hierarchies.
Even my sexy little body hadn’t turned prince into pauper and pauper to prince.
I pouted, sending up an apology to my incubus forebears for failing them.
Perhaps, it’d increase my powers if I touched Magenta’s Talisman Tits…?
“Would it please you if I touched you…here?” I hovered my hand hopefully over Magenta’s MTT (which was what I was now calling them).
Magenta’s lips quirked. “Please do. Who knew that a Ball Committee could be both boring and deadly.” I stretched my fingers, before stroking them in circles over the MTT. Magenta sighed and arched. “Now that’s what was missing. All committee meetings should have an incubus in attendance.”
“My versatile arse would be in demand, obviously,” I smirked.
Magenta’s pleasure flooded through me in sparkling bubbles, and my eyelids fluttered. I bit my lip, struggling not to rub my dick against her.
This café was meant to be for relaxation, but Serenity (the magical AI who ran it), was kinky enough not to mind if I turned it into a Screw Café.
Except, she’d watch, and the thought of that was like ice down my pants.
Still, there was always time for a quick incubus pleasure feeding.
Through the pulse pounding in my ears, I could hear the drone of Lysander and Willoughby discussing decorations, music, food…oh, and not dying. Despite sitting on the floor, the Princes had taken the lead. Cute. Did they realize that we were letting them? It wasn’t just that the rest of us hadn’t even been to a ball. Away with you, it wasn’t that at all.
Their posh arses knew what bastard Titus wanted, unless Fox’s suggestions of a Hogwarts, Happily Ever After, or Alice in Wonderland ball won out.
I voted for Hogwarts, since Titus would make a brilliant Voldemort. Lysander simply sneered at me and vetoed all Fox’s plans.
Yet Immortals and Princes were finally united in the Committee. I felt odd. There had to be something against making peace with your rivals in the small print of the Incubi Night Code. Unless, achieving it through love was the exception to the rule?
Surely, the Membership was now broken?
Sleipnir slouched against the far wall. He’d tossed his blazer across the sofa, and his shirt sleeves were rolled up, revealing shimmering serpents that coiled up and down his arms. His hair fell in candy pink waves, and he strummed Bob Dylan’s “The Times They Are a Changin’” on his guitar.
Guys should play more protest songs because I craved to lick every demonstrating inch of godliness.
I was so his groupie.
Mist danced at his feet, shaking his mane and tail and stamping his paws.
Lysander hissed, “What do you believe you’re doing? This isn’t the time to play…”
Sleipnir grinned, “Hey, I’m working. I’m the ball’s entertainment.”
Willoughby pushed a strand of hair behind Lysander’s ear, who startled like he hadn’t expected the public gesture. “It shall need to be a grand feast.”
Fox waved his hand, dismissively. “Pfft, details.”
Lysander’s jaw clenched. “Details that’ll lead to your whipping boy behind being punished if we don’t get this right.”
Midnight’s wings curled more firmly around Fox.
Fox sat up straighter, although I could tell that it cost him. “Just call me the Details Man.”
“What’s wrong?” I blurted, pulling my hand back from MTT. Magenta groaned in frustration. I must be worried about my foxy, if I’d missed how close I’d driven Magenta to her peak. I’d make it up to her later with my tongue, dick, and arse: together they were a talented team. “I love you, but your curls are lank, your skin is ashen, and you have circles under your eyes.”
“Wow, your compliments really need some work. You do know how to make a boy feel special.” Fox winked at me.
“Huh, he’s right.” Sleipnir narrowed his eyes. “Omens and runes, I swear that I won’t lose anyone else. So, no more lies. Just tell us what’s going on.”
“Don’t accuse my king.” Midnight’s eyes burned, as he shielded Fox.
It was both hot and terrifying, which was impressive from the only naked person in the room.