LOGINAt the end of the corridor, a thick cloud of blood mist and fluttering bats announces the arrival of the vampire.
Ilius steps out of the shadows.
"Werewolf," he orders, his voice full of disgust. "Come with me." He holds up a thick, heavy metal collar. It's the exact same type he used to chain the beast earlier, but that one broke when Fenris escaped.
"My patience is totally gone," Ilius warns softly. "I suggest you put this on yourself."
The moment Fenris sees the
The lecture is actually interesting today, which doesn't happen often enough to be a pattern yet.Gaia. Five hundred years old, the reason the entire Twelve Thrones structure stays neutral at all. When she steps down, the first seat goes to whoever can hold the balance, and right now everyone is circling. Dean Lilith Nox is apparently in the running, but a Night Goddess with dark leanings doesn't exactly inspire the coalition crowd.I trace the power distribution map in my textbook with one finger, thinking.The bell rings.Hilbert doesn't leave.He always leaves. Every class, without exception, notes closed and gone before the echo settles.So when he stays, I notice. I notice the way he sets his things down without any rush, the way he moves through the rows like he has somewhere to be and has simply decided that somewhere is here.He stops at my desk. Bends down to my level, and his collar opens just slightly with the angle.I see it immediately.The mark I left. Still red at the e
"What do you think?"Arlo slides the laptop toward me, and I lean in.Dark gold bleeds across the card's surface. A hooded Grim Reaper, scythe in hand, face deliberately hidden, anchors the center.Clean. Dangerous. Expensive-looking without trying too hard.He rotates the 3D preview a full three-sixty, and the gold seems to breathe, fracturing into liquid light with every angle.I slap my palm on the desk. "That one."His mouth curves. "Thought so.""Have them ship a sample batch first. A hundred cards.""Done." He clicks away from the design tab—and that's when I see it. The browser history, sitting wide open like he has absolutely nothing to hide.How to survive a lightning strike.Will holding a lightning rod attract lightning.Which day will it rain.I pull up his weather app. Seven days of unbroken sunshine smile back at me."Sweetheart." I turn the screen toward him. "Not a single cloud."He looks at it. Presses his lips together. "I know. I'm looking into artificial induction.
Arlo looks like he wants to bury his face in his hands, but I don’t give him the chance.I grab his wrist, dragging him toward the exit before any other clients can try to flirt with me.I don't make it two steps past the cafeteria doors before I press my back against the cold stone wall, signaling Arlo to stay silent.Through the heavy, slightly ajar doors, Medusa's voice rips through the air like a jagged blade."Damn it all!" she snarls. "Why is she so powerful? Why does every Professor treat her like she's made of glass and gold? And most importantly...why does she smell so distinctly of Professor Hilbert?"I feel Arlo stiffen beside me at the mention of the Professor's name.I just smirk, leaning my head back against the wall. Guilty as charged."Professor Hilbert...The pristine, untouchable God of Abundance. How could he be claimed by a brat like Rea? What does she have that I don't?""Liviel," she hisses. "Y
As the God of Abundance, Professor Hilbert exercises absolute dominion over the sowing of seeds, the harvest of crops, the herding of beasts, and the prosperity of the earth.But as I sit practically pinned to his lap in his private office, my brain suddenly remembers the final, most potent aspect of his divine portfolio.Reproduction.And right now, his absolute, flawless restraint is visibly slipping.The raw, unrestrained aura of his divinity is leaking into the room, accelerating the growth of every living thing in its path.In my peripheral vision, the potted ivy goes absolutely feral, scaling the walls in seconds to weave a thick, impenetrable canopy across the ceiling.Clusters of lilies violently burst into bloom all around us. Their heavy, intoxicating scent floods the room, instantly mixing with the hot pine radiating from Hilbert's skin.It is a sudden, suffocating spring flood of raw vitality—the reckless, u
Professor Nyla hands me a customized training regimen.One glance at the unhinged weight requirements and combat sets tells me everything. It isn't designed for a student,it's perfectly calibrated to push a seasoned assassin to her absolute limits."You underwent highly lethal training before enrolling," the Giantess rumbles, leaning against the weapon rack. "Stick to your habits. We are just increasing the intensity."I don't hold back.For the next hour, every strike and evasion I make on the mat is stripped down to raw, military-grade efficiency."It makes perfect sense you Awakened to the Reaper bloodline," Nyla notes approvingly as I step off the mat.She gestures to my thigh holster. "Custom firearm? Let me see."I hand over my matte-black pistol."I'm running dangerously low on ammo, Professor. Can the Academy supply free bullets?" I ask, my brain never missing a chance to exploit the school's budget.Nyla e
"Are you absolutely certain now, Professor?" I whisper, my hand still securely trapped in his broad, warm palm."I am certain of nothing," Hilbert murmurs, his emerald eyes impossibly dark in the dim, humid lighting of my dorm room."But I am acutely aware of one thing, Rea. If I delay this any longer...whether your intentions are true or false, you will slip right through my fingers. And I refuse to let that happen."I raise an eyebrow, a wicked thrill shooting down my spine. "So, what exactly is the Professor thinking?""If you are willing," he says, his voice dropping into a velvety, intoxicating purr, "I want us to have time. Real time. To understand each other, beneath the surface."Without breaking eye contact, Hilbert slowly lifts my trapped hand.He doesn't bring it to his lips.Instead, he guides my palm down, slipping it inside the deep V-neck of his robe, and presses my bare hand directly against his naked chest, right over







