Rebel: House of Fae: A Dark Fae Paranormal Romance Read online

  REBEL: HOUSE OF FAE

  Stay away from Court Fae...

  My dad drilled that into our Dark Fae tribe, trapping us in the forest. Court Fae are deadly, cruel, and believe that they’re fated to mate for life.

  But I’m also Lord Spring: a rebel with something dangerous and magical growing inside me…

  Now I’m a prisoner in a supernatural jail with my two hot and protective fae friends, held captive because I rebelled against the Queen. They even kidnapped the beautiful shifters. How can I escape this hellhole with its trials, executions, and classes with blood-thirsty vampires, werewolves, and witches?

  Go for counseling with the sexy succubus, my friends said. It couldn’t be worse than dying, right?

  Yet love could be deadlier than anything else in this reform school. Why choose just one bond when all are so temptingly hot? Yet will these new loves and friendships be enough to fight the system and the Court Fae?

  If I fail to graduate…

  …I die.

  REBEL: HOUSE OF FAE © copyright 2020 Rosemary A Johns

  www.rosemaryajohns.com

  Copyright notice: All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.

  Fantasy Rebel Limited

  CONTENTS

  Wicked Reform School Map

  Books in the Rebel Verse

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Author Note

  Rebel Academy

  Rebel Werewolves

  Other Books By Rosemary

  Appendix One: The Wicked Bucket List

  Appendix Two: Reform School Students

  Appendix Three: Wicked Reform School Staff & Supernaturals

  Wicked Reform School Shared World List

  About the Author

  WICKED REFORM SCHOOL MAP

  Welcome to Wicked Reform School. Here is your campus map. Escape attempts through the magical wards, disobeying professors, and biting other students will all land you in front of the Dean.

  Mandatory: Reform or die.

  BOOKS IN THE REBEL VERSE

  REBEL WEREWOLVES - COMPLETE SERIES

  ONLY PERFECT OMEGAS

  ONLY PRETTY BETAS

  ONLY PROTECTOR ALPHAS

  REBEL ACADEMY - WICKEDLY CHARMED COMPLETE SERIES

  CRAVE

  CRUSH

  CURSE

  REBEL ANGELS - COMPLETE SERIES

  COMPLETE SERIES BOX SET: BOOKS 1-5

  VAMPIRE HUNTRESS

  VAMPIRE PRINCESS

  VAMPIRE DEVIL

  VAMPIRE MAGE

  VAMPIRE GOD

  VAMPIRE SECRET: REBELS AND RENEGADES

  REBEL VAMPIRES - COMPLETE SERIES

  COMPLETE SERIES BOX SET BOOKS 1-3

  BLOOD DRAGONS

  BLOOD SHACKLES

  BLOOD RENEGADES

  STANDALONE: BLOOD GODS

  REBEL: HOUSE OF FAE - COMPLETE

  HOUSE OF FAE

  AUDIO BOOKS

  LISTEN HERE…

  CHAPTER ONE

  Wicked Reform School, Trial Area

  Monday 26th April

  LORD SPRING

  This morning, I either reformed and graduated or remained wicked and died.

  At the Wicked Reform School, once you’d reached the end of your sentence, it was the only choice.

  Yet I was Lord Quincey Spring, the leader of the despised Rebel Dark Fae tribe from the English forests, who’d walked in the shadow of death my entire life. After a decade exiled and locked up in this American prison of a reform school because my tribe had been sentenced for rebelling against the Unseelie Queen, I wasn’t a model student.

  This term alone, I’d had to sit a special lesson invented just for me: The Problem Prankster. How to think beyond What Would Loki Do?

  Let’s just say that I hadn’t planned a graduation party.

  My golden wings fluttered, and I wrinkled my nose at the scent of tangy blood that stained the wooden floor. I edged my foot away from the patch of scarlet (I’d spent ages polishing my boots), and glanced out over the Trial Area that’d been adapted into a stage for the graduation ceremony.

  The fae were ranked like an army on parade, if that army were dressed in steam punk military uniforms with slashes in the sweeping coats for their burnished wings. Their emerald eyes were fixed forward, and their pale faces were as emotionless as we’d been taught to be.

  Almost like they weren’t here to be executed.

  My heart clenched at the thought of what was about happen to my people.

  Why hadn’t I been able to save them?

  If my older brothers had been here…if they hadn’t been killed or exiled…maybe together we’d have led them to freedom. But what did I know about being a leader?

  Please, even though I’d die today, let the rest of the fae survive.

  When my wings drooped and my shoulders slumped, Radley (or Lord Brooke as I never bothered to call him…okay, as I sometimes mockingly called him…more like Rads for short), grabbed me by the scruff of the neck and pulled me straighter again.

  Radley had a thing for manhandling me but then he had the muscles for it.

  I peeked at Radley, as he adjusted my golden scimitar that was slung at my waist and then the swan clips in my hair, which had been digging into my scalp.

  Somehow, he always knew what was hurting me.

  Radley was my best mate. In fact, since I was a kid, he’d been like family. The type who were overprotective with a hint of psychopath mixed in. Like me, Radley wore our uniform, which was a long coat with glowing runes on the lapel that stopped us from flying without permission and the swan crest of the House of Fae. The same crest was emblazoned on the belt of our khaki pants, and could be spelled with either restrictions or rewards.

  You knew that you were screwed when even your pants could punish you.

  Radley was taller than me, and his gleaming emerald eyes were bright against the dark of his ebony skin. His sweeping wings arced over me like he could protect me, despite everything. I’d braided his hair this morning into a warrior style because this was a battle, even if it ended in our deaths.

  The other paranormals in the reform school called this day the culling, but we fae knew it as the Day of the Wicked.

  When you reached twenty-five in the reform school, there were only two options: reform or die.

  The spring sun sh
one hot across my translucent skin; my eyelashes fluttered against the light. Clouds flew across the cornflower sky like swans. My heart ached at the phoenixes calling to each other, as the bird-like creatures swooped overhead, in haunting melodies.

  I wondered if the phoenixes had ever tried to escape through the high invisible barrier, which trapped us in the school. There were rumors that a dragon once had, only to crash. There were always whispers in a prison like this. It was judging between the truth and lies that was hard.

  “Brothers in wings,” a soft voice said from my other side, as a wing brushed against mine.

  I shivered.

  Oh yeah, wicked.

  “Brothers in wings,” Radley and I muttered in response like answering a prayer.

  I turned to Felix (or Lord River as I sometimes called him…Lix for short), and cold gripped me at the way that he forced himself to smile, pushing his tumble of hair out of his light green eyes. His caramel skin glowed in the heat. He was gorgeous but he was always too buried in books and intent on proving that a Forest Fae could be as bright as a Court Fae to realize it.

  There were many tribes of fae, but only one Court ruled by a Queen, and she was a despot. The Court Fae were tyrannical and cruel, believing that you mated for life. If tribes rebelled against Court rules, then they were punished.

  Like my Forest Fae.

  Felix was as close a friend to me as Radley because the three of us had been sacrificed to the Court Fae as kids. At least we’d always had each other to love.

  I scanned the Trial Area. The main campus with its modern buildings was behind, and the school’s vast gates in front. Yet the gates were warded and guarded.

  There was no escape from this.

  “You know,” I glanced at Felix, “I’m starting to seriously doubt the claim that you’re as magically lucky as your name.”

  Felix grinned. “Hey, Felix does mean fortunate, and Fortune Magic is powerful.”

  Radley grunted. “It also means fertile. Is there anything that you want to tell us?”

  Felix blushed, and I loved the way that it spread down his chest. He circled around us. “Let’s stick with lucky…”

  When Felix stumbled, Radley caught his arm and pulled him to his chest.

  The other Houses were right to fear the Fae Lords: we were fierce.

  Felix gave a quiet laugh, scratching the back of his head, which was his tell for when he was nervous. He’d been trying to hide it for my sake like he always did, but I knew him like a brother. We’d spent our childhoods sharing a tiny room that hadn’t been much more than a cell.

  The Queen had made a mistake when she’d sentenced us to this reform school, which was meant to be for the wickedest paranormals of the supernatural world. How had she thought that it could break us, when we’d already suffered in a prison for most of our lives? Just because that prison had been called the Dark Fae Court, rather than a reform school didn’t change the truth.

  They’d made us too strong to be reformed.

  Really, well done on the irony.

  I swallowed, steeling myself to look out at the crowds. Staff and students had gathered to watch the ceremony. I avoided looking at the staff members, especially the stern-faced demon, the Dean of Discipline. Vampires, wolf shifters, and witches crowded the stage. I winced at the excited betting on who’d survive and how the execution would take place, which was led by huge shaggy-haired beserkers, (my odds to survive were currently 200:1, and the most hoped-for execution appeared to be flaying…bastards).

  Well, this was what we got for making ourselves feared by the other Houses in order to survive. As the only all-male and English House, we’d always been the outsiders.

  It took a serious crime to be sentenced here. Most of the other students, whether bear shifters or warlocks, were brutal and deadly. I’d learned to act like I was twice my size, just to stop myself from being torn in half every time that I stood in line for lunch.

  A vampire pure blood with his chin tilted up arrogantly, even though he was swathed in dark robes to protect his delicate skin from the sun, sneered at me. His fangs glistened.

  I snarled at him because I was having one of those savage moments that broke Court Dictate 203: No snarling or growling. I took a deep breath and then growled for good measure.

  The Court Fae had taken Radley, Felix, and me as Hostage Lords as kids. We’d been the youngest (okay, dispensable), sons in our tribe. The Court had demanded that we be handed over and raised away from the forest, fostered at Court, and kept as a guarantee that the Rebel tribe would never rise up against the Queen’s Court.

  If they did, then we’d be executed.

  Of course, my tribe had still rebelled in what came to be known as the Love Rebellion. Yet the Court Fae had fostered us Forest Lords for so long that they couldn’t bring themselves to kill us. Instead, they’d sent us to the Wicked Reform School along with all the other male Forest Fae who weren’t yet twenty-five.

  But they’d made certain to traumatize us first by slaughtering our brothers in front of us.

  I bit my lip hard, struggling to breathe.

  In and out, in and out…

  My lungs burned with their familiar illness, as I fought for breath. Next to me, Radley stiffened, and Felix swept in front of me to shield me from the view of the ghoulish crowd.

  “You’re okay,” Felix whispered. “We’ve survived because you’re strong. This doesn’t make you weak.”

  Felix never let others see my sickness, which had grown in me since I was a kid. It weighed me down, settling on my chest and stopping me from transforming into my fae form. Something was wrong with my own magic, which attacked itself.

  I truly was the worthless youngest son.

  Radley pressed his hand gently to my chest, and at the same time, an unfamiliar scent like hot ginger warmed through me. My eyelids fluttered, and I sighed. The pain and tightness eased, and the attack ended.

  Yet why did my magic feel more powerful and dangerous, rather than weaker after every attack?

  My nose wrinkled. Where was the aroma of ginger coming from?

  Felix gripped my hand. “We’ve still got about ten seconds before we’re called up to graduate, Quince. We can think of some way to escape, right?”

  I raised my eyebrow. “It’s not as if we’re guarded by armed ogres, on a stage surrounded with bloodthirsty witches, shifters, and dwarfs (the dicks), in a warded reform school, so I’m sure that we can make a break for it...”

  “Lord of the Sarcasm, you’re not cute.” Radley gripped me by the neck.

  “Yeah, I am.” I leaned closer.

  “Do you need a spanking?”

  “Does anyone ever need a spanking…? Plus, who’s the boss here, Rads?” I raised one elegant finger.

  Radley’s grip on my neck tightened. “Certainly not you, short wings. Has that pulling rank crap ever worked since we were kids?”

  I cocked my head. “Ehm, nope. But hope springs eternal.”

  “We could pray to Belenus…” Felix said, thoughtfully.

  Belenus, The Shining God, was our Celtic God. He was sacred to the Forest Fae, and hated by the Court.

  Would he even recognize a Hostage Lord with my illness as one of his people?

  “Never pray to a god for help.” I crossed my arms. Quinn had taught me the cautionary stories late at night of the gods who were glorious but terrifying. “They’re not there to do what we ask them, and what if we don’t like their answer?”

  This was our last time together. Our last chance.

  My breath caught. I wouldn’t…couldn’t…say it. But we all knew it. “Whatever happens is the will of the forest. I’m honored that you’ve stood by my wing. I wish that I alone could die for you.”

  “Don’t you dare say that.” Radley’s voice was suddenly rough with tears. “I’d burn the world to ash for you.”

  “I don’t doubt it,” I said, softly.

  Radley smelled of wood and rich leather, as I pressed my lips t
o his. My heart clenched, as he wrenched away his head.

  “I won’t say goodbye,” he whispered.

  My eyes smarted with tears. “I rather thought that I was attempting to say it with my lips instead.”

  Radley huffed, but Felix snatched my arm, pulling me into a hug.

  “I’ll find you after death,” he murmured against my neck. “They can’t part brothers in wings.”

  I nodded, stroking across his shaking back.

  All of a sudden, the ranks of fae began to beat their wings together like a drum roll. My heartbeat sped up — thud — thud — thud — to match its rhythm.

  It’s here now… any moment Wells, the Head of House, will call my name…

  “The Marquess of Spring, Lord Quincey Spring, step forward. It’s time to judge the wicked,” announced Wells with a haughty flourish.

  I pushed away from Felix, fixing on my Patented Sneer (see, fearsome fae), and staring across at the Head of the House, the Duke of Wells.

  Wells was a Court Fae, who I’d feared taking my lessons from as a kid because of his dreaded pop quizzes on etiquette, manners, and other things that’d made me want to blow a raspberry in his face just to see his stunned expression. He’d spent the last decade in this school, attempting to reform me.

  As usual, Wells appeared as unruffled and elegant as if he was taking tea with the Queen, rather than waiting to find out if today was an execution, rather than a graduation. He was old enough to be our father, and acted like he was merely guiding us out of kindness. His smart military outfit gleamed in all black; his scimitar was neatly at his side. He was tall, pale, and as snootily perfect as a swan.

  Was it messed-up that I wanted to wreck his composure, break that cool mask of his, and prove that I was still a Forest Fae?

  Around the stage, the school was as elegant and neat as Wells. Fountains tinkled between manicured lawns and trees, as if this was an academy, rather than a prison.

  Yet it didn’t matter how beautiful the setting, if the reality was your ugly death.

  An execution could take place in a palace, as much as in a ditch.

  I shuddered, desperate to smell the sweet scent of the wild forest just once more before I died, even though my memory of it had faded after so long away.