Chapter 3
Chapter
Three
Bloom
The Hard Option
“Let’s hear it,” I said, my stubborn streak surfacing.
Stardust’s sigh was weary, as if she was already mourning my choice.
“You will be stripped to the waist and bound to the iron post in the courtyard before the entire school. Then you will receive fifteen lashes from an iron-belt whip, administered by the executioner. Should you survive, you will serve one month in the dungeon beneath Kingsley Tower. But if you emerge, you may remain at the academy.” Her gaze held a grim finality.
“Commit the same transgression twice, and the punishment will be more severe. Though I doubt you would survive even this first sentencing.”
The meaning hung, unspoken, in the chilled air between us. Even if you live, you will be broken. You will not want him, nor he you.
“Walk away,” she urged, her voice softening with pity that stung worse than contempt. “No one would blame you. Professor Ravencrux would understand. This is the cleanest end. The kindest.”
“No sane person would choose the lashes just to stay with Ravencrux,” Kingsley cut in, his laugh a dry, scornful thing. “He isn’t worth it.”
“I’ll take the flogging.” My quiet words dropped into the stillness like a lit fuse.
I hadn’t known Nero long, and not long ago, I’d suspected him of murdering every redhead who looked like me.
I’d been certain I was next. But somewhere in the chaos, in the danger, I had learned to trust the man beneath the myth.
I felt him in my marrow, a recognition older than memory, a truth that defied reason.
And there was this void that had gnawed at me, a hollowed-out ache that had made me carve bloody lines into my skin.
With Nero, it vanished. The abyss sealed.
To have him torn away, to have the memory of that wholeness erased would be worse than anything the pain and humiliation of lashes could deliver.
Existing wasn’t living. I was done just breathing.
Stardust blinked in disbelief. “What?”
“He’s worth it.” I held her gaze in defiance before I glared at Kingsley. “Do your worst. But I am not leaving him.”
Nero’s eyes trained on me, furious tears glinting before they were gone the next instant, burned away by a hotter, darker fire.
“You understand that even if you survive the lashing, you cannot be with him?” Stardust said, her voice edged with frustration. “That is the unchanged rule, Miss Aurelius.”
“I’ll still take it,” I said, my voice steady. “At least I’ll see him here. Even from a distance.”
“You’re a fool, girl!” Kingsley scoffed, glaring at me. “So be it. You won’t survive even three strokes anyway. Ravencrux is welcome to cradle your corpse afterward.”
“I will take the lashing for Bloom.” Nero’s voice cut through the room. All eyes turned to him. “The rule does not forbid a professor from volunteering to bear the punishment in a student’s stead.”
“Because no one has ever volunteered before!” Stardust countered.
“There’s always a first then,” Nero stated coolly. “I will take every lash for her. No one touches her. No one even looks at her wrong.”
“No, Nero,” I protested, my heart seizing. He didn’t know that I had a plan. My newly awakened weaving magic hummed beneath my skin, a secret promise of survival. “I can withstand it. I—”
“Bloom.” His voice softened, but the command in it was iron.
“Let me handle this. I won’t allow a hand to be raised against you.
Anyone who harms you does not get to live.
And even in death, they’ll find no peace.
” He turned his gaze toward Kingsley, and the room temperature plunged. “I’ll make certain of it.”
“As Headmistress of Reaper Academy,” Stardust drawled, “I accept Professor Nero Ravencrux assuming responsibility for the breach of the cardinal rule. As he correctly notes, the code does not forbid it.”
“He’s exploiting a loophole!” Kingsley snarled.
“He’s clever.” Stardust conceded. “Too late to stop him now.”
“Then the number increases,” Kingsley countered, a vicious light in his silvery eyes. “Two hundred lashes.”
“That is excessive, even by your standards,” Stardust scoffed, though her tone was weary, not defiant. “Be reasonable. Fifty will suffice.”
“I accept,” Nero said, without hesitation.
“Then it will be Hera’s Whip,” Kingsley declared, his smirk returning, fuller and crueler. “And I will be the one to wield it.”
“Kingsley, seriously?” Stardust’s voice carried a rare, sharp rebuke.
“Or I won’t relent,” he said, his gaze fixed on Nero, hungry for concession.
“Done.” Nero’s single word was ground out between clenched teeth.
Stardust’s face paled. Kingsley’s grin widened into something truly grotesque.
Hera’s Whip.
The name alone sent chills coursing through my bloodstream. An icy dread settled in my gut. Kingsley’s triumph and Stardust’s stricken reaction told me everything I needed to know.
This was not just a punishment. It was far worse.
As soon as the headmistress’s ward fell, Morrigan, Dante, and Orren surged into the room. Fury tightened their features as they took in the wreckage and Kingsley standing smugly amidst it.
Kingsley darted his gaze to me and gestured sharply. “The girl waits in the dungeons until the lashing.”
Nero moved, a blur of lethal grace, placing himself squarely between us. His trio closed ranks at his back, an unbreakable wall of muscle and menace.
“Fuck off,” Nero snarled. “Touch her, and I will battle you until one of us is dead.”
A tense and violent silence stretched between them. Kingsley’s gaze flickered to the three warriors surrounding Nero, calculating his odds.
He exhaled through his nose. “Then my guards stand watch outside her door.”
“Do send your entire troop into my tower.” Nero smiled coldly. “But they won’t walk out alive.”
Kingsley’s face flushed with rage, but he knew when he was outmatched. With a seething glare, he turned and stormed from the room, his cape cutting through the damp air behind him.
The moment the enemy professor left, Nero turned to his team. “Get her to the tower. Now.”
“Nero—” I tried, but Morrigan was already steering me toward the door.
“We’ll keep you safe,” Dante said, falling into step beside us.
“See that you do,” Nero replied, his voice low. His trust in them was absolute.
I wanted to dig in my heels, refuse to let him suffer for me. But his eyes held mine, a sharp, silent command to go. His hands were clenched, his entire body vibrating with the effort of holding himself back from crossing the room and reaching for me.
“Come on, Mistress Bloom,” Orren murmured.
I pulled the cloak tighter around myself, trying to ward off a cold that had settled deep in my bones. The three of them closed around me, a shield of muscle and loyalty, and led me away.
I glanced back.
Nero stood amidst the wreckage, rain soaking his hair and streaking down his face. He looked ravaged. Immortal.
Each step away from him tore at something inside my chest. I wanted to fight, to run back, to take my own punishment. But Morrigan’s hold was unyielding, Dante blocked my path, and Orren’s quiet presence offered no escape.
“Go, love.” Nero’s voice threaded towards me like dark silk in the downpour. “Everything will be fine.”
The tender lie lodged in my ribs, but I knew with cold dread that it wouldn’t be fine.