Chapter 22
Chapter
Twenty-Two
Bloom
Whispers and Wolves
I’d returned to classes. Surprisingly, no one gave me trouble.
Headmistress Stardust never summoned me to explain my disappearance. Kingsley hadn’t launched another attack, though I felt his gaze constantly—a vulture circling something not quite dead.
And I hadn’t seen Sebastian since my return. I didn’t seek him out. I’d called this a temporary truce with Apollo’s alter ego.
No students came after me, either, not after witnessing Nero’s flogging. But everyone stared when I appeared. Whispers trailed me down every hallway, through every classroom.
As Bloom, that attention would have choked me. As Persephone, I brushed it off like a stray spiderweb—irritating, then forgotten.
I took lunch with Sindy in the Midnight Banquet Hall.
The cathedral grandeur—vaulted ceilings, stone walls, enchanted chandeliers—no longer impressed me.
The hierarchy here hadn’t changed: elite from Kingsley Tower commandeered the prime positions near the massive hearths.
Sindy and I claimed a corner table far from everyone, but our attempt at privacy soon failed. Students from all three Houses gravitated toward me as if I were a lodestone, soon filling every table near ours.
I tried to ignore it.
Sindy sat across from me, giving them the evil eye. She’d ordered roasted pheasant with herb stuffing; I had the venison stew, crusty bread, and greens drizzled in honey vinegar.
The food was, as always, excellent. The academy was a death trap, but it fed us like royalty.
“I’ve missed you,” Sindy said, spearing a piece of pheasant. “You’re in Nero’s penthouse every night now. I only see you in class.” She tried to sound light, but I heard the loneliness beneath. “At least I still have the hellhound for company. He’s grown on me.”
I smiled at her. She didn’t know I’d ordered Cerberus to guard her at night. I wouldn’t risk my best friend. Our enemies might try to hurt her to get to me.
“He’s the sweetest thing, and he’ll keep you safe,” I said, breaking off a piece of bread and dipping it in the soup.
My thought drifted back to Nero, who would be waiting for me in Obsidian Wilds. He and Dante had been training me in every spare moment.
The training was brutal.
They’d cleared an arena deep in the forest, far from any path.
Nero always attacked first, sword in hand. He never used his full strength—that would kill me instantly—but held nothing else back. His blade moved faster than mortal eyes could follow. I had to rely on instinct, on muscle memory from lifetimes.
“Block!” he’d shout. “Don’t just react—anticipate. Read my body, not my blade.”
I’d dodge, roll, come up swinging with the practice sword. He’d deflect, then counter. I’d barely parry in time.
“Better,” he’d say. “Not good enough. They won’t hold back in the trial. Neither can you.”
Then Dante would take over. His style was different—aggressive, chaotic. He wielded his axe like part of his body, striking from angles that shouldn’t exist.
“Vicious!” he’d roar. “You need to be vicious! This isn’t a friendly duel—it’s survival!”
He’d demonstrate, nearly taking my head off. I’d drop flat, feeling the axe’s wind overhead.
“Good instinct,” he’d admit grudgingly. “But you’re thinking too much. Let your body move. Trust your gut feelings.”
Orren watched from the sidelines in his hellhound form, three heads tracking my every move while Dante listed my shortcomings.
“Left side weak!”
“Footwork sloppy! You’ll trip on uneven ground!”
“Watch your breathing! You’re gasping after three minutes!”
They drilled me on strategy. Positioning. How to use the arena’s layout to my advantage.
“The center is within the academy’s wards,” Nero explained, sketching a map in the dirt with his shadow blade. “But half the spectator seats lie outside, where the gods sit and watch. The decree demands they not enter the academy grounds.”
“But will they follow the rules?” I’d asked.
His expression darkened. “They’ll break any rule for their own ends. That’s what you must watch for.”
They prepared me from every angle. They taught me to fight multiple opponents at once, to listen for attacks I couldn’t see. They drilled me until my muscles screamed and sweat stung my eyes.
“Watch out only for yourself,” Nero repeated like a mantra. “Your survival is all that matters. Don’t try to save anyone else.”
“You need to be merciless!” Dante would echo.
I remembered this training from before. Long ago, when I was Persephone.
Hades had trained me then. He taught me to fight because his realm was deadly, because his enemies were elite gods, because he couldn’t always be there to shield me.
I didn’t exactly need their training anymore. My power had returned. My memories were nearly whole. I could weave fate itself if I chose. But I humored them. Let Nero and Dante believe they were preparing me.
When there was no training, Nero guarded me himself. He fucked me every chance he could get, and I gave him every ounce of my passion. I gave him everything except my secrets. I locked them away.
Every minute, I felt his hope—a tangible thing, waiting for some sign of remembrance, praying I’d rediscover who I was and what he was to me.
It pained me. But I never caved.
And soon, I’d have to crush not only his hope but his heart.
Again.
I turned my attention back to Sindy. Around us, the dining hall’s noise swelled; giggles, chats, the clatter of silverware.
Beneath the din, gossip about me spread through every table. With my returned power, I didn’t need to strain to hear it. Enhanced senses were just one of the many changes I concealed.
I kept my secrets from Sindy, too. She hadn’t demanded to know where I’d gone, but she showed her concern in the careful way she watched me. It made me respect her more.
“I heard Ravencrux is fucking her every night…”
“She spread her legs for a professor. Shameless…”
“Enjoy it while she can. The trial is coming, and we’ll leave her corpse in the arena for him to fuck…”
I turned out the malicious gossip from those jealous little shits.
“So,” Sindy said, leaning in and lowering her voice, as everyone was eavesdropping. “Any news from your… boyfriend about the trial?”
Her hazel eyes were hopeful. She thought I had insider information now. After all, I was with Nero, a founder. She still had a hard time wrapping her mind around the fact that her new bestie had landed Ravencrux and caused such an uproar in Reaper Academy.
“Not much more than what’s common knowledge.”
Her face fell a little.
“But I’ll tell you what I do know,” I added. “The trial is demanded by Zeus.”
She widened her eyes. “The Zeus, the King of the Gods?”
I struggled not to pull my lips into a snarl. “That one. It’s an excuse for a culling. The gods call it tradition, but it’s about eliminating threats.”
“Like you,” she said quietly.
My friend was incredibly smart, but I didn’t confirm it.
“Olympians will come to watch. It’ll be an open trial in the arena, gladiator style.”
“Shit.” She shuddered.
I nodded my agreement.
“Have you seen the arena on the northeast side, past Kingsley Tower?” she asked. “They built it in a day!”
“Yes.” Dante had taken me to scout it. We’d ridden on the hellhound’s back, circling above while the archdemon pointed out sightlines and weak points. “The entire arena is within the academy’s wards, but half of the spectator seats reserved for the Olympians are beyond the wards.”
“Gods are tricky business.”
“They are,” I said.
“I’ve studied the history of Reaper Academy extensively, and no gods have ever showed up before. We thought they’d long since left or were dead. And now they’ve all come back.”
“It seems that way,” I said, and I couldn’t tell her more.
Nero had been sick with worry. Every night he clung to me so tightly he could barely sleep, only to jerk awake from nightmares, gasping, and pull me closer still.
“Shh, I’m here,” I’d whisper, stroking his hair to calm him down.
But I knew the worst was yet to come.
Kingsley hadn’t made his move precisely because of the trial. Everyone knew it was a culling. My enemies would use it to finish me—to strike Hades through his mate.
But I held an advantage they couldn’t see. I’d dealt with the Fates. Bound their tongues. Not a soul knew what I’d done.
Around us, the hall hummed with speculation—chatting, chewing, glasses clinking. No one had the real facts.
Sebastian should have known. But he was nowhere to be found. I didn’t plan to seek him out. I didn’t want to owe him more than I already did.
I hold my fate in my own hands, I whispered under my breath. No one else would decide my path again.
I forced another spoonful of stew into my mouth. The air was so thick with anxiety it turned the food to ash. But I finished every drop. I’d need the fuel.
“When the trial starts,” I told Sindy, setting down my spoon, “you run. Find the safest place you can.”
“No.” Her hazel eyes flashed. “I’m staying with you.”
“You know I’ll be the target.”
“All the more reason you’ll need someone watching your six,” she said firmly.
I opened my mouth to argue, then stopped. On second thought, it might be better. No one could overpower me now, not with my power awake and hidden. If she stayed close, I could make sure she walked out alive.
“All right,” I said. “But you stay behind me. If I tell you to run, you run. No arguments.”
“Deal.” She reached across the table, bumping her fist against mine. “Together.”
“Together,” I echoed.
But even as I said it, I knew the trial would be unlike anything this academy had witnessed. Gods would descend. Blood would spill. And I’d have to reveal at least some of what I could do.
The secret couldn’t stay hidden much longer.