by Belle Malory
Only one problem—the Fates predicted my rage would consume me if I embraced my Ares blood.
They said I would never return home.
They said I would turn to dark magic.
They warned me to stay away.
On the other hand, they said love magic would help me find clarity and inner balance. They were right. Love magic soothed me in a way I never imagined. It gave me hope for humanity. It gave me peace.
But it wasn’t enough. No one house ever would. No one magic ever would. By joining Ares, I was risking my own fate. I simply didn’t care. I refused to conform to any box. At least this way, by studying within both houses, I was forging my own path.
Xander handed me my stack of books, and I slid them into my bag. Traces of his magic seeped through my fingers where his hand brushed against mine, instantly making me feel lighter.
“Thanks.”
He caught my chin, forcing me to look at him. “You sure you’re okay?” His vibrant blue eyes drowned me with their intensity. As hard as I tried to act unbothered, he always saw through me.
I took a deep breath and nodded. “I will be.”
“You’ll be safe in your next class,” he promised, adjusting the strap of my bag over my shoulder.
Right. Weaponry.
As house leader, it was one of Xander’s responsibilities to assist the Master of Arms. Students would get to train with real weapons, both an exciting and slightly terrifying idea. Watching Ares students spar was captivating. They exuded strength and confidence, and I wanted to fight like that too, violent bloodlust be damned.
We walked to the field together, Xander glued to my side. This thing between us was brand new, already off to a rocky start. I had little experience with relationships, but that couldn’t be a good predictor of longevity. Then again, my last boyfriend, Connor, gave me the perfect first everything—first conversation, first date, first kiss—and that ended in an abrupt, violent twist of events. He fell in love with my sister, the two of them used me, and I tried to kill Riley.
So, yeah.
Smooth sailing often led straight into hurricanes.
I glanced over at Xander and sighed. He was almost too perfect for words. Dark waves of hair. Chiseled face. His eyes—god save me from his eyes—were the deepest blue, framed with thick black lashes. A slightly crooked nose that had been punched one too many times but sort of endearing. And of course, all those lean, gladiator muscles. Best of all, underneath was a beautiful heart.
Xander had bailed me out of more awful situations than I could count. And not because he was bound to a magical promise like I first assumed. Nope, he had done all of those things of his own free will. The oath of protection he’d given was to my sister’s mother.
Technically, my half-sister.
My half-sister who was also my cousin.
Ours was bananas-shit crazy family tree, if there ever was one. If I hadn’t believed I was part of a mythical Greek lineage, I certainly did now.
Xander’s oath only added to the overall suckiness. There was nothing he could do to stop himself from protecting Riley. Even if it meant he had to protect her from me.
“We’re here,” Xander said.
Class was held outside, directly on the field. Everyone lounged in the grass, surrounding a shimmering glass firepit with a base of crystals. Labradorites, by the looks of them.
I swallowed, extracting details from my textbook. No ordinary firepit. That one drew its power from the Fire of Hephaestus.
“Come. Sit.” Master Redtree instructed everyone approaching. He stood tall, his metal-banded arms locked behind him. The Ares instructor was late-forties, his dark hair sprinkled with gray, in better shape than anyone I’d ever met. His biceps easily doubled most guys, and that was saying something because pretty much all Ares descendants looked like badass Roman gladiators.
I didn’t know Redtree personally, but he was friendly with my grandfather, and the two of them were very similar. Both carried an aura of power through an austere, stand-to-attention military presence.
Xander and I went our separate ways, him to the front with Redtree, and me to an empty patch of grass. As he walked away, a codependent, needy part of myself wished he could stay with me. My inner feminist quickly stamped that down. I sat by myself, trying not to notice the way the other students made a wide circle around me.
Riley was centered between Calypso and Anastasia, the same girls who pushed me and trampled my books. I went still when I saw her. They all sat with their legs crisscross, giggling and whispering, looking like they’d been friends their whole lives.
She caught my gaze, a gleam in her eye. I frowned, recognizing the animosity in it. I looked away, trying not to let her see how much it bothered me. Being this close to her wasn’t good for either of us. It inspired the rage I worked hard to release, ripping my inner balance to shreds. I hated to admit it, but the curse was working, brewing up a storm of emotions. If I felt it this strongly, I couldn’t imagine the effect it was having on her. She should have stayed in Davidson like she was supposed to, dammit. Here, she risked both of our lives.
Once all of the students arrived, Redtree spoke in a deep, bellowing voice.
“As you all know, today we have a Blood Moon. Arcadia always holds summonings on these auspicious occasions. The air is thick with energy, ripe for engaging with fire magic.” Keeping his hands locked behind his back, he circled around the firepit. “Much like the Mirror Realm, the Fire of Hephaestus determines your worthiness. Personally, I don’t think we should allow first years to put their hands in, but school rules dictate each student receives one chance per year. Here’s how it works: You place your hand inside. If you feel nothing, you’re not ready. This will be the majority outcome.
“If your palm burns as if you touched fire, your soul weapon is being forged. But again, don’t get your hopes up. Most students don’t forge their weapons until their senior or mastery years. Even second years rarely achieve it.”
I glanced at Xander. He was one of those rare students, having received his soul sword during his second year.
“Let’s say by some miracle, the fire determines you’re worthy,” Redtree continued, his hawk-eyed gaze darting around the crowd. “Make sure you hold your hand steady. You must outlast the pain to complete the summoning. Once it’s done, you are bound to your soul weapon for life.”
Well, this was just perfect. He was expecting each of us to go up there, in front of everyone. I wasn’t afraid of the pain, but I didn’t want to put my hand in while others were staring. I could already hear their boos and cackles coming for me. Thankfully, Redtree went in alphabetical order, which meant I would be one of the last called.
Student after student got up, put their hand in, and came out with nothing. Most of them lost their tempers, kicked the ground, and shouted expletives. These were hotheaded Ares descendants, after all. None of us handled patience very well.
Leo Valentine started convulsing on his turn. His body jerked chaotically, then he laughed when the crowd gasped in anticipation. He withdrew his arm and shrugged, running off when the other students started throwing random items at him: an apple, two pencils, and someone’s tattered sandal.
Before long, Riley was called.
I held my breath, watching her march across the field to the firepit, her bright red locks ablaze in the sunlight. She stood there for several seconds before jutting her arm into the blue fire. It immediately pushed her hand out.
I swallowed.
She grinned and tried to act as if it were no big deal, but I knew her better than that. An obvious twinge of disappointment filled her eyes.
“Sheridan Thorne,” Master Redtree called, and I flinched. Several groans made their way across the field.
Lovely.
“I hope the fire shoots her back to Aphrodite,” one student said, and I winced.
“I hope it burns her alive,” said another.
Their words lashed against me like a whip. I shou
ldn’t care what they thought, but I did. To make matters worse, Xander heard them too. “Shut your mouths, or I’ll do it for you,” he said, glaring.
Let’s get this over with.
I hurried toward the fire, stopping at the glass cage. The blue flames hissed and swished as if they were alive. Slightly hypnotized, I stuck my arm inside, ready to pull it out and return to my seat as quickly as possible.
But when I jerked back, the fire grabbed hold of me. Its flames wrapped around my wrist, cuffing me there in the spotlight. The burning sensation engulfed my entire arm, like hot grease. I ground my teeth together, feeling my skin sizzle and spark. My instincts told me to yank it out and run, because it felt as if my arm was literally being seared off. But I refused to cower. Not in front of them.
I stood as still as possible, digging my heels into the grass, trying not to let the class see how much it hurt. My eyes burned with unshed tears, but I held strong.
“No freaking way,” someone whispered.
“This has to be a joke,” said someone else.
Their whispers and comments buzzed in my ears. I blocked them out, too absorbed by the pain and confusion of what was going on. A tornado of energy swirled around me, dulling everything outside of it. Powerful magic whooshed through my body, sending little sparks of heat in every direction. The magic was searching for something. Whatever it was, I hoped it found it quick.
My arm exploded in an array of white flames. They were so bright it blinded me for a few dizzying seconds. Amazingly, I continued to stand my ground. Eventually the flames dulled, ending with one last burst of blue. My arm fell slack, but my whole body trembled.
Over. Finally.
The entire field was silent. So silent, all I heard was my own shaky breath. I looked at the crowd, a little dazed. All of their wide eyes were on me, but not on my face. Glancing down at my arm, I saw the reason for their stunned gazes.
My fingers were curled around a sleek, golden bow. A quiver of arrows was strapped to my shoulder, encrusted in glittering gems. Diamonds, sapphires, and emeralds—what was I seeing? Both pieces gleamed in the sunlight, as if the gods had personally crafted them.
Master Redtree slowly clapped his hands together. “Well, well.” He released a shaky breath. “Miss Thorne, you are the youngest student I’ve ever witnessed summon a soul weapon.” He continued to clap, the only one to do so. “Class, this is the student to watch out for. If summoning came that easily, fighting will too.”
Everyone was silent.
I ambled back to my spot on the grass, my new weapon in tow.
“Give it a name.” Redtree nodded to my bow and quiver. “Then it will disappear. Whenever you need your weapon, you can call it to you by name.”
I dimly nodded, still in shock.
Another student was called. Eventually, everyone refocused their attention. I continued staring at the bow in my lap, the cool metal pressed tightly against my palm, in awe. For a weapon made of gold, it felt light in my hands. I slid the strap off my arm and pulled the quiver around to inspect it, running my fingers over the encrusted jewels. Beautiful wasn’t a strong enough word. Inspired. Artful. Godlike, seemed more accurate. I wasn’t sure I was worthy of such a prized piece of weaponry. I almost didn’t want to name it, just so I could hold onto it as long as possible.
Nothing about this made any sense.
Did the Fire of Hephaestus ever make mistakes? Why me, a first year with no experience? I’d never fought or used any weapon, much less a bow and arrow. I didn’t know anything about archery either.
I felt Riley staring before I looked up. When I did, she looked away, but not before I caught the unmistakable fury in her gaze. She didn’t have to say a word for me to guess what she was thinking. This wasn’t over. I may have made her task more difficult by summoning my soul weapon, but she still had every intention of ending my life.
2
At lunch, a pair of Aphrodite students waved to me. It was weird because they were the same students who ignored me after I enrolled in Ares classes. I dumbly waved back, just one small rise of my hand as I looked around to see if they were waving to someone else. Hazel, who was normally under Birch’s rapt attention, noticed and grinned. “Hey, they like you again.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” I said, thinking it was probably a mistake. Or worse—a prank. Appearances could be deceiving.
The two of us used to eat lunch with Jett. But when Jett traded me for Hades magic, she split our little friendship trio apart. Now, I spent my lunchtime with Birch and Hazel’s overtly cutesy coupledom. To be honest, I didn’t mind. I was grateful I still had friends in this school.
Hazel reached for my hand and squeezed it. I caught the pity behind her neon purple frames, and I hated seeing it there. Birch, ever the optimistic faun that he was, offered a cheery wink. “If it makes you feel any better, creatures don’t care about descendant houses. We all bleed red.”
“I wish everyone felt like that.”
Life would be much simpler if magic didn’t separate us.
The day grew stranger as it wore on. In my Flight Equestrianism class, a kid from Zeus talked my ear off about his family’s collection of winged horses. I listened quietly, assuming he didn’t know who I was.
On my way back to my dorm room that evening, Phoebe Brightly, a junior in House Ares, known for her skill in combat, approached me on the sidewalk. Her strawberry blonde hair and freckles reminded me of my sister, before Riley became the fiery-haired stranger she was today.
“Hey, Sheridan.” Her toga swished as she fell into place beside me. She hadn’t called me Two, the name I was used to hearing. I blinked several times, stunned by her normal, everyday greeting. “Congrats on your soul weapon!”
My mind turned to mush. I didn’t say hello or thank you, the polite thing to do. Instead, I went with, “Do you know who I am?”
“Everyone knows who you are.”
“Then why are you talking to me?” I looked around. “Aren’t you afraid of someone seeing you?”
“Why should I?”
“Because I’m a traitor.” Duh.
She waved that off. “No one can fault a geniox for their heritage.”
“My heritage?”
She nodded. “Your ability to practice any magic—incredibly special. I have to admit, I’m jealous.”
What the—what? I had never heard of such a thing, but then again, I hadn’t been in Mythos that long.
“And where did you hear about my unique, ahem, bloodline?”
“Ione told everyone.” She offered a wide, gap-toothed smile. “You really should have said so right away. The other Ares descendants wouldn’t have been so hard on you.”
I should’ve known.
Ione, the reigning Queen of House Aphrodite. Of course she started a rumor. She was never one to stand by while anyone she cared about was drug through the mud. And I’d become someone she cared about.
Phoebe and I spoke about Weaponry class for a while, and she asked to see my bow. Still nameless, I handed it to her and she marveled in appreciation. Then she gave it back and we went our separate ways.
After she left, I practically flew up the stairs of House Aphrodite. Ione was inside our dorm room, sitting at her vanity. Hair wrapped in a towel, her delicate face covered in a thick paste the color of seaweed, she raised a brow at my rushed entrance.
“Did you really tell everyone I’m a geniox?” I tossed my bag down on the ground.
She swiveled around, crossing one leg over the other. Her eyes widened at the sight of my bow. “You summoned a soul weapon?”
“Nope—me first.” I laid it carefully on my bed. “Why did you start that rumor?”
She shrugged, not even an ounce of shame in her face. “You’re not the only one with secrets bad enough to ruin you. I’ve gotten good at lying.”
I should’ve known.
Both of our closets were packed full of baggage we wished would disappear and relatives we wished we didn�
�t have. Her dad was a hollow who cursed her because she and the rest of her family refused to pledge. And my mom traded her life away to the hollows. In a way, our sucktastic histories bonded us. We kept each other’s secrets. Still, this might be taking things too far.
“But Ione,” I let out a breath. “I’m not a geniox. People are going to figure that out.”
Her mask cracked.
She waved her hand in the air, turning back around. “For all you know, you could be. Just because you haven’t tried practicing other magic doesn’t mean you can’t.” She untwisted her towel and brushed out her wet, platinum-blonde locks.
“What happens when a Zeus descendant asks me to manipulate electricity? Or a Poseidon descendant wants me to do water-magic? What the hell am I supposed to do then?”
She shrugged. “Look, it’s not perfect, but it stops other mages from labeling you a traitor. Genioxes are rare, but everyone accepts their ability to practice all magic. Thanks to me, you’re no longer two-faced. You’re talented.”
I ground my teeth together. “Riley will tell everyone I’m not—”
“Maybe. Maybe not. And if she does, who cares? You’ll just be a liar on top of everything else, stuck in the same situation you were in before. But I don’t think she will, because I don’t think she knows the truth.”
“What makes you think that?”
“Just a hunch.”
I tilted my head, knowing her well enough to know there was more to this than a hunch.
She caught my glare and groaned. “I have friends inside of Ares, okay? Riley is aware of your dad’s history, but she doesn’t know a lot about her mother or yours. For all she knows, genioxes exist in your family tree.”
“And these friends are reliable sources?”
She nodded. “I’m trying to get as much info as I can on your sister. Find out what she knows, and more importantly, what she doesn’t. If she ever discovers that Xander is tied to her, she could easily manipulate him.”
The thought made me shudder. “She suspects something.”
