Chapter Twenty-Five

J ust like when he first shifted into Ryu, suddenly, a very naked Reaper is standing in front of us. He looks at me in absolute awe. I suddenly find myself pulled into his arms and crushed against his chest as his lips take mine in a fierce and possessive kiss. He lifts me, and my legs wrap around his waist as he holds me up with no effort whatsoever. My legs clench around him as a rumbling growl starts in his chest, sending a delicious vibration through me and straight to my clit, making me groan. His tongue dances with mine and he bites my lip, soothing the sting with his tongue and then delving right back in for more, his hands clenching around me tight enough that I know he’s going to leave bruises, but I also know that he’s showing a lot of control because he could easily snap me like a fucking twig.

“Guys!” I hear yelled by all of the others at the same time.

Reaper smirks against my lips and gives me one final kiss before he then lets me slide slowly down his body, feeling every hard fucking inch of him. Making my breath hitch, he looks down at me, completely ignoring the others.

“He’s calm, content, and he’s not trying to fight me to get out. For the first time in forever. He’s just watching.” He says in wonder.

“Did you hear everything?” I ask.

“Yes, and I promise to communicate with him better. I had no idea that he came out fighting because of what we went through. If I hadn’t fought him for so long and actually listened, I could’ve saved us both years of pain.”

“You know now.” I smile up at him.

“Er guys,” Loki asks, and Reaper turns me around in his arms, holding me to his body, my back to his front.

“Yes?” Reaper questions.

“You’re naked.” Loki helpfully points out, and I grin.

Reaper chuckles, “Yes, I normally can transform back into my clothes, but Ryu is petty and is letting me know he’s pissed.”

I burst out laughing, and the others all look highly amused.

“In that case, let's call the horses back, get your spare change of clothes and get back to the academy to question the Headmaster.” Storm suggests.

The others agree, all of us wanting to get back to question the Headmaster. There’s no point waiting, I want answers now, and if we wait until after we’ve rested, he’ll probably have already concocted another way to kill me off.

Fae horses are not only trained to scatter when under attack but are also taught a very specific whistle that calls them back. Fae horses have incredible hearing, and so long as they’re okay, then they should be able to hear it miles away.

We all individually call our horses using their unique whistle. They’re complicated enough that someone else wouldn’t be able to replicate it, and even if they did, our horses would know it’s not our voices calling them. Fae horses fascinate me with how intelligent and complex they really are, and I think far too many people take them for granted.

It doesn’t take them long to appear, and while Reaper goes to grab his bag and get changed, which I’m more than slightly disappointed with, Revel rushes to me, circling me and sniffing every inch of me to make sure that I’m okay.

When he gets to my stomach, he sniffs the blood stain repeatedly until I lift up my shirt to prove that I’m okay. Finally, he settles enough that I can climb on, all the while trying not to chuckle at the pictures of him fighting the assassins flood my mind. He could probably handle his own against one or two, but not that many, and we both know it, which is why he followed protocol and ran with the others.

“Everyone ready?” Storm asks. Once everyone’s confirmed they are, he adds, “we’re going to ride hard, so we get back quicker. I don't want to risk the Headmaster somehow getting a pre-warning that we survived.”

“Nothing would surprise anymore when it comes to that dick,” Rival says helpfully, and I nod in agreement.

Storm wasn’t kidding when he said that we’d be riding hard on the way back, we’re pushing our horses to their limits, but thankfully they’re all amped up from the fight and having to leave us in danger, so they’re enjoying working off the extra energy they have. They needed this.

When we get back to the academy, we leave the horses in the care of the stablemaster to sort out, and all make our way straight to the Headmaster's office. As we walk the halls, everyone gives us a wide berth. While this is relatively normal for the guys, the wary and shocked looks aren’t. Frowning, I look over all of us, and it clicks; yeah, I’d be looking at us like that too. We’re all filthy, covered in blood and gore and leaving a trail of muddy and, I’m sure, part bloody footprints behind us. Add in our severe faces, and I’d probably be running in the opposite direction if I were witnessing our entrance.

Storm doesn’t bother knocking when we get to the door that leads to the reception area of the Headmaster's office and instead walks straight in. The poor receptionist stares at us in shock, that is until she realises that we aren’t stopping, and then a panicked and indignant look crosses her face.

“Excuse me!” she calls after us, “you can’t go in there!”

We ignore her entirely and force our way through the door, once again, without knocking. The Headmaster immediately stands from his desk, anger clouding his features until he recognises us and his eyes widen. Killian has him by the throat, the sharp point of his tail against his neck as he has him held up against the wall within seconds, and no matter what the Headmaster tries to do, he cannot break the hold.

“Farren, could you secure the door, please, Darling?” Killian asks pleasantly as if he’s not hanging someone by their neck with one hand.

I pull on the strings of all my magic and weave it into a spell that not only blocks the door but silences any noise coming out of here and stops the receptionist from calling anyone. I’ve managed to weave in an illusion that we’ve come out of the room with the Headmaster, and he’s told her everything is okay. The plan was to carry the illusion on when we actually do leave, but my magic is now extremely low, thanks to the fight earlier. My head spins for a second, and it takes all of my willpower to stay upright and not sway on my feet. Thankfully, the dizzy spell quickly passes, and I turn back to the guys.

“All done.”

I’ll have to warn them before we leave that there’s going to be a very confused receptionist out there.

Storm nods, trusting that I’ve done what Killian asked even though there was no outward proof of what I was doing. He rounds the Headmaster’s desk, sits in his ornate chair and kicks his filthy boots up onto the desk, dirtying the surface and making the Headmaster snap his fangs at him in anger.

“Right, now that we’re not going to get interrupted, do you want to tell us why you’ve persistently tried to set us up?” Killian asks. His tone is deceptively calm.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He insists.

“Lie,” Reaper growls.

“This is going to go a lot better for you if you just tell us what we want to know.”

“You can’t do anything to me,” he scoffs; his derision gets cut off when Killian tightens his hand around his neck.

“I don’t need to. Have you ever wondered what I’ve been up to all these years? I can promise there are people that can take care of the problem for me.” Killian threatens.

“Sh-she saw you come in!” the Headmaster replies, starting to sound less sure of himself and grasping at straws.

“She did, but she also saw us come back out, and you tell her that there was nothing to worry about and to go back to work,” I reply, my smile smug as even the guys look at me questioningly.

“Th-that’s not possible,” he mutters.

“Sure it is. Now, are you going to tell Kill what we need to know, or do I get to play where does the Headmaster bleed from the best?” my smile turns feral.

It’s silent for a brief moment as my words hover in the room. The threat is clear, and to make the point that I’m not messing around, I pull one of my favourite daggers out of its hidden sheathe and start twirling it through my fingers, the feral grin never leaving my face.

“If that doesn’t convince you . . .” Reaper trails off as his eyes glow and his fingers suddenly shift into the deadly claws of his dragon.

All colour drains from the Headmaster's face as he stares in horror at Reaper, clearly thinking that his dragon is on edge and he’s about to shift. I swear I can hear Ryu’s chuckle in my head though, and I know that Reaper is in perfect control and Ryu isn’t trying to push his way forward.

“Fine.” He concedes eventually, his voice shaky.

Killian lets his feet land more firmly on the floor and loosens his hold around his neck so that he can talk.

“Good, we’re listening,” Storm states firmly.

“You’ve probably gathered that I’ve known about the games for longer than even the other teachers here; as the Head of Black Onyx academy, I’m kept in the loop. However, the other person that knew before many others was your father, Farren.” He starts.

I hold back my groan; I should’ve fucking known that it had something to do with that fucker.

When I don’t outwardly react the Headmaster carries on, “Literally the second I hung up with advisors from the palace, I got another call on the stone from him. I can only describe him as being in a panic-fuelled rage, and because he was panicking, I think he gave me more information than he intended. He told me that you could not be allowed to compete in the games. When I said that it was completely out of my control, his anger grew, and with it, his control over his words. He told me, well screamed, that Farren could not be in the games. It would be the end of him and kick into motion the events that will lead to war.”

I have no idea if I believe what he’s saying and whether that is the true reason behind my father's anger, he is a master manipulator, but it’s concerning, to say the least.

“That’s a hell of a lot to put on one person who has no choice in joining in the games,” Rival points out drily.

“Get to your involvement in it.” Storm orders.

The Headmaster gulps slightly, “He offered me a lot of money and, more importantly, some hard to get spells if I tampered with your jobs so that he could have you taken out.”

“He wants her dead?” Loki growls.

“Yes, as far as he’s concerned, that’s the only sure way that she won’t be in the games and start the events that will lead to war and his death.”

Well fuck. Okay, so I’m still not positive about his true motives, but I have always been more valuable to him alive than dead. If that’s suddenly changed, then he definitely thinks something big will happen if I go into the games, which is inevitable, and he will stop at nothing to have me murdered.

“Is that everything?” Storm’s voice is cold, deadly, even as his horns light with blazingly angry fire.

“Yes,” he replies.

Storm looks at Reaper, who nods that he is telling the truth.

“In that case, Rival, could you make the call?” Storm asks.

I think other than the Headmaster; I am the only one who is confused by Storm’s request of Rival.

“What call?” the Headmaster asks, his voice nervous.

“Well, you have proven yourself to be easily brought and not capable of being trusted to be in charge of the many students here and their safety. Rival is going to see to it that you are dealt with accordingly, and a replacement is found.”

Wow, I am in awe of the power that these guys seem to wield, and as the Headmaster panics, splutters and tries to bribe us to stop Rival from following through, Rival pulls a communication stone from his pocket, whispers a spell that will in case him in a soundproof bubble and then makes the call. I have no idea what is being said, but it seems to be going the way that Rival wants it to; he even chuckles at one point.

The call doesn’t last very long, and when Rival drops the soundproof bubble, he starts to explain, “They want him to be detained in his office. They should be here in minutes; they’re going to portal in.”

“Impressive,” I mutter.

“Killian, bind him. Mayhem, can you take his voice temporarily, please, so that he cannot keep bitching.” Storm orders.

Suddenly everything falls silent, and I breathe a sigh of relief. Thank fuck for that. It was fucking relentless.

“Farren, you need to take the spell off the room. I assume it's secure enough that they can’t get in even if they are going to portal in.” Killian reminds me.

“You assume correctly, one second.” I pull at the string of magic that will unravel everything but the illusion that the receptionist saw. “Done.”

We stay silent as we wait, there’s a lot that we need to discuss, but we can’t talk about any of it while the Headmaster is still in earshot. Thankfully we don’t have to wait long, and we hear the receptionist exclaim and the Headmaster’s door swings open. Several uniformed enforcers head straight toward the Headmaster, who starts to fight in earnest but immediately gets subdued. A smartly dressed man ignores the commotion and walks straight up to Rival, having a quiet conversation and then shakes his hand.

As quickly as they come, they’re gone, and as we all follow them out of the office, the receptionist spots us and does a double take.

“Farren, what’s wrong with her?” Loki asks me.

“My magic is pretty tired after today, so I haven’t covered us with an illusion as far as she’s concerned; she’s now watched us leave twice.” I shrug.

He chuckles at my response. We walk quickly back to the dorm room, people whispering around since someone clearly saw us come out behind the Headmaster as he was taken out in magic dampening cuffs.

“So, any idea who the new Headmaster is going to be?” Reaper asks.

“Yeah, actually, I made the suggestion that Magnus would be a good fit. He’s worked here for decades and is well known for putting his students first and his tactical knowledge. Not only that, but the majority of the teachers here have great respect for him.”

“And?” I ask excitedly. Magnus would be amazing at the job. Far better than the current Headteacher. For one, he actually cares about the welfare of his students and two, it would be pretty damn impossible to bribe him in any way.

“They agreed.” Rival grins, and I let out a girly squeal and jump on him, giving him a huge hug and making him chuckle.

When I realise what I’ve just done, I quickly step back, making him grin. Fortunately, we’re not far from the room, so I rush ahead and through the door. As soon as I’m in the main room, I immediately take off my boots, my feet welcoming the relief.

“Everyone go and shower, get changed and then meet in the lounge. We have a lot to discuss.” Storm orders, and everyone immediately does as he says, most likely as desperate as I am to wash off the grime covering me.

Once showered and back out in the main room with everyone else, we sit in silence, no one really knowing where to start.

“You know, I thought, I recognised some of the fuckers,” I mutter.

“So you think that the Headmaster is telling the truth?” Storm asks.

“I believe that my father wants me dead, that I’m certain of, but as for the reason, I have no idea if that’s actually true. He’s very good at making people believe his lies.”

“So what do we do?” Mayhem asks.

“We could do recon, watch him and see if we can get any information?” Loki suggests.

“Good idea, but by now, it’s entirely possible that he’s been tipped off about what’s happened with the Headmaster. He’s powerful enough that he won’t be worried about going down with the Headmaster, but he will become more careful.” Killian adds.

“Not only that, but he might double his efforts to have Farren killed. He’s clearly got a lot of resources at his disposal even if he’s being closely watched.” Rival suggests.

“But he won’t be watched straight away, they have to get the Headmaster talking first, and that could take a while. Farren’s father will be aware of that and take this opportunity to take her out.” Storm expands on Rival’s point.

“So, what you’re saying is that we need to deal with this now?” Loki asks.

Storm nods. “Which brings us back to how, how do we deal with him and protect Farren. We know the authorities can’t do anything with him, so what do we do?”

They all start making different suggestions, and I let them talk as Poca shows up next to me, and I run my fingers through his fur. It’s not unusual that he didn’t show up today; he tends to avoid the fights unless there’s a real chance I will die.

Finally, I decide to interrupt, “It’s simple, we kill him, and we do it now.”