Half-Blood Academy 4: Magic Unchained: an academy reverse harem paranormal romance Read online

  “What if that god comes?” the dark mage asked.

  “Stall him and summon me right away,” Loki said.

  “Yes, prince,” all three voices answered.

  I stared at the coffin’s black lid, feeling every ounce of the venom infused with the devil’s and god’s dark spells coursing in my blood as if it owned me.

  I’d endure.

  And I’d slaughter everything that moved in Hell.

  CHAPTER 3

  __________________

  My enemies were letting me rot here.

  Numerous seconds trickled into infinity.

  I didn’t know how long I lay there awake, suffering icy cold beneath me and hunger burning inside me.

  My three jailors were still there.

  I felt their foul energy pulsing, greedy for more power but unable to absorb more.

  They didn’t converse. They didn’t bother to be sociable with one another. They stayed outside the dome, not too close and not too far from it.

  The last time Loki had visited, he’d informed me that two months had passed down here, which was two weeks in Earth’s time.

  How much time had lapsed on Earth this time around?

  Did the demigods still remember me? Had they purged the last traces of my existence from their memories after they learned that I wasn’t the Marigold they’d once lusted and cherished but an embarrassment, a black dot they needed to scrape clean? Had the Academy erased my name from its records? I had never been a good example anyway.

  What about my friends, Nat, Yelena, Circe, Jasper, and their pack friends? Were they ashamed of me? Did they wish they’d never befriended a black sheep like me?

  Inside this dark, cold coffin, I even missed my long-time nemesis—One-eighth.

  She might be throwing a grand party to celebrate my disgrace, my death, and her victory over me. Had she already made a move on my demigods? Winning one of them was her ultimate goal. With me out of the picture, would she finally get to the demigods while they were emotionally vulnerable and probably in need of a distraction?

  Sharp pain sliced through my heart on top of my old wound. And a teardrop rolled from the corner of my eye.

  It was probably for the best if they forgot about me and the black smear of shame I’d left behind.

  I alone would hold onto the prized, beautiful memories of them, of all of them, which were all I had, all I could cling to.

  “You’re tender with me, Cookie,” said the Demigod of War as if he had a hard time believing I had a feminine side.

  “Don’t like it?” I challenged huskily. “Wanna get rough, Casanova?”

  Axel chuckled, his laugh brimming with sexiness, and my core clenched.

  “I want all of you, little minx,” he purred. “Need to taste every inch of you.”

  His hands explored all over my body. Then his finger thrust into my wetness and his lips wrapped around my pink, perky nipple.

  Axel had been my first crush. He’d wanted me badly when he first spotted me, so he’d dragged me to the Half-blood Academy while I was kicking and screaming and kicking some more.

  “I miss you so much, Axel,” I murmured.

  My thought drifted to Zak. The Demigod of Sky was the most reserved amongst his cousins. He’d woken up from his emotional stasis after he met me. He’d never truly expressed his feelings toward me, but wherever I went his silver eyes followed me, full of heat and devotion.

  He owned my virginity. He was the first male to break my maidenhead.

  “I need to ravish you before I fuck you,” Zak said. “I want to be gentle with you, but I don’t know how. I’ll never forgive myself if I hurt you, but I’m losing control.”

  He placed me atop the water, his large hand supporting my back to keep me afloat. He went down on one knee and buried his chiseled face between my shivering thighs.

  His mouth devoured my sex, feasting on it as if I was the only thing that mattered.

  Liquid fire flared between my thighs. I needed to touch myself to relieve the mounting pressure inside me, but the venom dominated my bloodstream and held me captive.

  Fury burned through me, but it would do me no good.

  As I shut my eyes, I heard Paxton’s whisper. “I’ll take care of you, Buttercup, whether you like it or not.”

  He’d known about my demon heritage, and he’d still wanted me. He’d killed for me to protect my secrets. But even he couldn’t take care of me now. He’d move on, just like the others, after seeing me dead.

  Regrets rained down in me.

  Paxton was a straightforward yet complicated man. He’d made a mistake, but he’d proved to me that he’d do whatever it took to atone. If I’d let my anger go, if I’d ridden his hot body, I’d have activated the Living Flame. With it, I’d have blasted the devil and the god to kingdom come.

  One fatal flaw and one mistake had cost me everything.

  Buttercup, we’re coming for you. I nearly sobbed as I imagined his cooing voice.

  I longed to curl around him, inhaling his scent of morning ocean, icy beach, and forest rain.

  But I would never have the chance.

  I wanted to be with all my mates more than anything. I’d sell my soul to see them again.

  When my thoughts touched on Héctor, tears flooded down my face, soaking my hair that spread over the bottom of the iron coffin.

  I’d broken his heart. I’d seen it in his sapphire eyes before I fell on my blade, before my heart stopped beating.

  And here I was, undead.

  I could no longer bear the memories of their pain, and by the last mercy the fates granted me, I dozed off.

  ~

  A pair of obsidian wings wrapped around me, expelling the coldness in my bones.

  I touched the glossy feathers as if they were my jewels. My trembling fingers moved to caress the hard ridge of the wing, and Héctor shivered.

  “Lamb,” he murmured.

  I choked back a sob. “Héctor.”

  “I’m here, lamb. I’m here.”

  “I’m in Hell. Do you know?”

  “I’ll bring you back,” he said fiercely. “I’ll bring you home. I have the power to bring back the dead.”

  I wasn’t dead, but I didn’t tell him so. I wanted him to move on and live his life.

  “Don’t come for me,” I warned. “If you come, you’ll die here.”

  “Don’t worry about me, love.”

  I sighed. “I’m not worth it anyway. I know you’ll never forgive me, but I want you to know how sorry I was. I still am. I love you, Héctor. I always do and always will.”

  “Fuss no more, lamb,” he ordered. “You’re everything to me, but we don’t have much time. I’ve tried everything in my power to reach you in the Dreaming, just as we first met.”

  I would live for this if I could constantly have him in my dreams.

  “I’m cold, Héctor. Hold me, please.”

  He pressed me to him, his face burying between my shoulder and neck as he inhaled my scent.

  I had no concept of where we were, but we weren’t in his house at the edge of the Academy. As I blinked, a familiar scene reeled back.

  An opulent apartment in a skyscraper. A lush park on one side, and blocks burning in the distance on the other side. Clusters of fire sparked on the streets and buildings. Plumes of smoke drifting into the windy sky.

  Even the burning view comforted me because it was the world I knew.

  This was Héctor’s Manhattan apartment, where we had first mated in the Dreaming.

  And now Héctor and I were skin to skin again. It was delicious. It was precious.

  Hadn’t he said that there wasn’t much time left for us?

  “I need you,” I whispered, lust searing me. “I miss you so much.”

  He knew what I needed.

  I lay on the rug with his feathers beneath me. He hovered above me with his elbows supporting his weight so he wouldn’t crush me. Every second of the day, my Héctor was protective and possessive to
ward me.

  I writhed beneath him, gazing at his handsome face before my eyes dipped to his taut muscles rippling across his perfect torso.

  Héctor’s control slipped away. As he lowered himself to me, a lock of dark hair dropped into his eyes, which had once held the mysteries of the galaxies. Now they were burning with desire for me—more than just lust.

  His sensual mouth crashed into mine, his tongue invading through my parted lips with hunger, echoing my raw need. Our tongues dueled; pleasure lapped at me.

  I spread my legs wider, in desperate need of him. I needed to feel him inside me, to have his cock buried deep in my heat.

  We’d done this once in a Dreaming, and I hoped in the future we’d do it again and again. It seemed that our relationship had started with a dream. It would end with a dream, too. No, I wanted this to never end.

  I was the only one he could touch, even in a dream.

  “Fuck me, Héctor.” I broke the kiss and urged him on, my fingers threading into the thick mane of his hair. “I need you to fuck me hard so I know I still have you. I can’t have you in reality, but in my dreamscape, you’ll always be mine.”

  “I’m always yours, lamb, and you’re mine,” he said fiercely, his voice husky and rough, and it made my core clench with a burning need.

  I loved everything about Héctor. I loved his complexity and simplicity. I loved his rough sexiness and his menace as well.

  He thrust into me, his sapphire eyes never leaving my face as if he wanted to commit my every reaction to his memory, as if I was still his whole world.

  I arched my back to take him in deeper. He moved on top of me, fast and hard and deep. He didn’t intend to give me a break. And there was no gentleness, just desperate need and fierceness in his movements.

  My pussy gloved his cock as it slammed into my molten core again and again.

  “Don’t stop, Héctor,” I whispered. “Never stop.”

  A rough groan rumbled from his chest, and he fucked me with abandon.

  Incredible pleasure ruptured within me, washing away my agony, and grateful tears rolled down my face. My fingernails sank into his firm ass, his hard muscles rippling beneath my greedy hands.

  He drove deep into me, intending to claim me again.

  He lifted my legs, pressing them against my chest as he shifted to a new position. His heavy-lidded gaze was glued to our locked flesh.

  Letting out a short, rough groan, he plunged into my wetness.

  “I’ll fuck this sweet pussy outside the dream, soon,” he promised, his gaze darting back to my face. “I’ll come for you. We’ll all come for you. Now feed, my love.”

  My eyes moistened. Only in this dreamscape would he still want me and call me love, knowing potent demon blood coursed in my veins.

  He pressed his wrist against my lips, hard. “Drink.”

  I blinked. Could I feed on him in a dream? I was already beyond grateful that he’d wanted me and was fucking me. But I’d been starved for a long time. I needed his heat to expel the ice in my bones.

  I pulled my lips back as my fangs broke out, lengthening.

  I bet I looked like a freaking monster, but my lover’s gaze didn’t flinch. Instead, he looked so turned on.

  “Sorry,” I said.

  My mouth dove toward his wrist. My fangs pierced his skin, sinking into his pulsing, strong vein, and I started to draw in his warm blood.

  Héctor was death to others but simmering life to me.

  His blood descended onto my tongue like the divine fire, smoothing down my throat. It was so delicious and potent I wanted to cry out in bliss.

  I was halfway to orgasm already.

  A spark of fire lit in my bloodstream and flooded my veins, purging the venom inside me drop by drop.

  My flames, which had been reduced to an ember, arose and met the demigod’s death fire. Together they burned the venom of the devil and the god.

  My mate’s blood was a firestorm and a cure to me.

  If only this weren’t a dream.

  I took another swig of his blood.

  Héctor threw his head back and howled in pleasure. His pelvis propelled toward me with strength, his muscles tensing. He thrust into me wildly, his speed blinding and brutal.

  I’d once drunk from Axel. He’d had the same reaction as Héctor. I was indeed the daughter of the queen of succubi. When I fed from them, I also offered them maximum pleasure. My inner walls moved at will, clenching every inch of his hard shaft, especially his thick crown, and milking him mercilessly.

  Héctor pounded into me possessively, his immense sexual need echoing mine.

  We matched perfectly in every way.

  I whimpered and screamed as pleasure blasted my every part. I was in Hell, but my demigod lover had turned this into heaven.

  “Drain me if you must, my lamb with fangs,” he commanded. “Take all you need. I’ll soon come for you to claim this sweet flesh over and over.”

  “Yes, my Héctor,” I moaned, my fingernails raking across the broad expanse of his back, leaving two trails of blood for him to remember me by, even in the dreamscape.

  I needed to mark him again completely.

  “I’m yours,” he said. “All that I am is yours.”

  His large shaft plunged into me, harder, faster, and deeper, setting my molten core ablaze. I was close to coming. I was pushed to the edge of the high waves. Just a few more strokes and I’d be home. I’d stay in heaven.

  I moaned his name over and over, clinging to him.

  A dark, icy wind crashed into me out of nowhere, tearing me away from Héctor.

  I heard his enraged roars and curses as I screamed his name and begged him to return.

  CHAPTER 4

  __________________

  The iron coffin with me trapped inside whooshed into the air, spinning.

  My tormentors had returned right before I could climax and deprived me of my pleasure.

  The iron lid above me flew away and landed somewhere.

  An overly gorgeous face hovered above the coffin, leering down at me. My skin crawled and all the tiny hair on my skin stood up.

  “Princess Celeste, you’ve finally awoken,” Ares purred, his sleek, musical voice sickening me.

  He and Lucifer had dissected me for two months, trying to find my magic so they could steal it. Then, my consciousness had vacated during their horrid operation. Now, I was fully awake and couldn’t escape to that unknown realm again.

  If the assholes resumed their torture by cutting me open, I would have to suffer through it.

  Dread filled my being.

  Where was Loki? He’d warned my jailors not to let anyone into this room with an order of “kill on sight.”

  But Ares wasn’t just anyone. No one could stop the God of War from getting in here, but Loki had also commanded my jailors to inform him as soon as Ares showed up.

  Yet the Prince of Hell was nowhere around.

  The bastard had left me to rot.

  At least he hadn’t joined Lucifer and Ares in experimenting on me... or had he? He’d probably say anything to get me on his side so he could be the one to break me, as he’d hinted.

  But as crazy as it sounded, part of me trusted Loki more than anyone else in Hell, so I screamed his name silently to summon him, hoping that would work.

  “How’s your day, Celeste?” Ares asked mildly as if he were my fucking family doctor.

  They called me Celeste, believing that giving me a new identity was the first step to bending me.

  “How’s my day?” I smiled up at the god. “It couldn’t be better.”

  I was no longer cold and full of pain after my Héctor had visited me in the Dreaming, but I was sexually frustrated since this fucking god had pulled me out of the dream right before my orgasm.

  Héctor’s scent of cinders, night, forest, and home still lingered in my nostrils. Had he managed to come to me, mate with me, and give me energy in that dreamscape? I ran my tongue around my fangs. It still tasted
of him, but there wasn’t a hint of leftover blood in my mouth.

  It had been a dream, after all, a dream that comforted and boosted me more than anything in my new reality. And I dared not hope for more.

  I’d promised never to break.

  No torture, starvation, pain, or death could break me.

  But hope could.

  Despite my insistence it had been a dream, I found that the venom was no longer in my system. I flexed my toes. I could move now.

  Secretly I summoned my magic, and it responded. It appeared more than a stuttering ember, unlike before, and it was enraged.

  Ares blinked, not expecting me to respond to him like a well-mannered girl or even to beam sweetly at him. A sensual smile tugged his curvy and cruel lips. He thought he’d mellowed me out with his numerous torture sessions.

  He probably thought he was the luckiest guy and that I was ripe for him to pluck.

  “Are you glad to see me, Prince Celeste?” he asked.

  “I’ve been alone so long,” I said, my voice still hoarse, even though I tried to make it sound syrupy.

  “I’m sorry to hear that, Celeste,” he said with fake sympathy.

  The Olympian gods didn’t have a single sympathetic bone in them. It wasn’t in their genetic makeup.

  Even the demigods were constantly struggling with empathy since their godly blood overpowered their humanity. Only when it came to me had they been compassionate, but that was before they’d found out I was the lost demon princess.

  “Some alone time has done you good,” Ares said.

  My magic quivered at my fingertips, but I held it at bay.

  “I’ll get you out of here,” the fucker continued, leering down at me with lust, “if you’ll swear fealty to me and serve me in every way.”

  He wanted me to serve him on the battlefield as well as in the bedroom.

  “Yes?” I purred.

  “Say you’re mine, Princess, and I’ll make you my consort.”

  I smirked. “I’ve got words for you.”

  My magic raged in me. My flame surged at the god before he could conjure up a shield. But then, he was the God of War, and his power, one of the most potent in the universe, countered mine.