Goddess Academy: The Complete Reverse Harem Collection

by Clara Hartley

  Love?

  What was that?

  A pathetic excuse for weakness.

  I summoned all the hate I had inside me and directed it to the troops below. I saw my darkness travel across them like a tidal wave, sweeping them up in a sea of madness. The flies beneath me were blinded by their bloodlust. They fought harder than they did when sane, cutting off limbs and severing heads. They didn’t care whether they slaughtered comrade or foe, slicing and burning and stabbing everything with wild abandon. I smiled so violently that my cheeks hurt. I gnashed my teeth together so hard that my gums bled and I tasted my own blood. The iron was both bitter and sweet.

  Thunder roared from above. The clouds coalesced and rain poured down, bathing the dead, screaming, and bleeding bodies. The downpour failed to extinguish my black fire. It was fueled by rage. The pain I’d had to suffer growing up. I’d lost faith in all kinds of beings, watching them fail over and over again in my many years both as Cara and the chiasma. It would be nice to see all things destroyed and have everything be given a second chance to grow.

  But first, all things had to suffer.

  What was death without some pain? That would be too boring.

  The sights beneath me continued to entertain, lighting the madness inside me. For the first time, the angry little girl was allowed to truly sing. She’d known she had this power inside her all along, but the weaker, stupid side of Cara suppressed her. Kept her silenced.

  For the first time, she wasn’t just feeling angry.

  She had fun.

  This was how she was meant to live life.

  “Stop this!” Clotho shouted from amidst her weak, pathetic barrier. That was all she could do to prevent herself from getting swallowed by the darkness. I eyed her with hunger. If I made her want to kill too… with the amount of potential she held?

  Nothing could stand against Clotho.

  Still, the angry little girl’s fun had to come to an end. The chiasma’s energy in me was not endless, though a force to reckon with, and it drained as soon as it exploded. She needed rest. Time to gather her strength again before coming out to play.

  She grew tired annoyingly quickly.

  Grudgingly, she faded back into the deeper recesses of my mind. That was where she’d always stayed. It was where she was comfortable, even though she hated those tight, confined corners.

  She had patience.

  She could wait.

  And she knew that she’d be back soon. She couldn’t let go of this fun. Not after she’d enjoyed the taste of it.

  Twelve

  I blinked, staring at the destruction my alter ego had wrought. How could this be real? This was worse than what I’d seen at the morgue. More devastating than the aftermath at Ashmeda. Worse than what my own imagination could create.

  At least in the morgue, I knew that the girls left their bodies peacefully.

  The fighters here had died painful deaths. Many victims weren’t even corpses, but were twitching from pain, struggling to stay alive. It looked like a fate that was worse than death itself.

  When faced with a terrible situation, I often tried to laugh it off. Finding something funny to mask the pain made it easier to ignore.

  It was impossible in this case.

  What had I done?

  Slowly, I flapped my wings and lowered myself to the remains of the battlefield. They weighed as heavily as my heart.

  “S-stop,” a woman croaked. “P-please.” Half her body had been smashed. Fire had charred her skin so much that its shade blended with the broken rocks. I saw the bone of her skull underneath the reddish mask of scars that covered her face. “P-please…” Her plea soften into a weak moan. I knew she was suffering, but she had lost so much energy that she didn’t even have it in her to continue begging.

  I knew what she’d asked for—the end of her life.

  I decided to be merciful. I searched the area, and it wasn’t long before I came across a weapon. They were littered all over the place, accompanying the fallen bodies. I picked up a long dagger and brushed away the ash that covered it. In its blade, I saw my reflection.

  I nearly couldn’t recognize myself. Black veins decorated the sides of my eyes. My hair had deepened into a crimson shade of red. Instead of my usual smile, my expression was one of grim bleakness.

  The woman in my reflection was not the Cara I was proud of.

  I dragged my feet toward the dying woman. Her body convulsed, like a broken windup doll struggling to use the remnants of its energy. I saw no hope for her, and so, in a merciful gesture, I plunged the dagger through her temple, ending her swiftly.

  “Bless you,” I said.

  I sensed that she’d been a goddess too. Perhaps she’d lived a long, immortal life, only to die meaninglessly—a victim of the angry little girl’s tantrum. Was it possible to bless a goddess? Or were they beings only capable of bestowing blessings rather than receiving them?

  I was met with silence after finishing the deed. My fingers went limp, and the dagger fell from my grasp.

  It took me a long moment before my senses returned. The shock the sights gave me numbed me into a stupor. Lingering emotions from the rage that had consumed me continued to pound through my chest.

  Had I really been that thirsty and sadistic?

  Remorse.

  Sorrow.

  Fear.

  One by one, negative feelings emerged. Each time they came, they hit me like a brick, slamming into my face with the reality of what I’d done.

  I quivered. “You guys…”

  Were my vassals still alive? I wasn’t sure if anybody could’ve survived this. My fears had become reality. I was always worried I might kill them, and now it seemed like I had.

  Tears dripped down my cheeks. My stomach tightened with nausea. I should be immune to most illnesses, but a sickness took me over anyway.

  “Hansel! Liam! Anybody?”

  I dragged my feet over the charred ground. I came across more shaking, almost-dead bodies, all of them begging to be ended. I drove my dagger through multiple skulls, until the act seemed like an endless chore and I gave up, feeling the futility of it.

  I could still hear her—the evil side of me continued to hide, biding for her next emergence.

  This was going to happen again? I felt so alone in my battle against her. Nobody could help me with it. I knew that to fight her, I had to summon every ounce of mental strength, and even then, I didn’t think I could win.

  Was this my fate?

  To be a destructor of worlds?

  Someone hugged me from behind. I jolted in response, feeling jittery enough to want to fight back. I was about to push him away when I sensed a tender caress across my cheek. My assailant gently pulled my hair from my face.

  “Hush,” a man said. “It’s me. It’s just me, Cara. You don’t have to be afraid.”

  I recognized this body and voice. They belonged to Theo. He embraced me, keeping me close to him. For an instant, I felt safe, but the calming sensation didn’t last long.

  I whispered his name. He was alive. Quickly, I spun around to inspect him for injuries. His shirt was torn and he looked bruised in some places. The dirt in his hair had turned blond shades into brown. Despite the nicks and cuts, he seemed well, for the most part.

  “You’re okay,” I said, more to reassure myself than Theo. “Oh goddesses, you’re okay.” I hugged him as tightly as I could. I breathed in his scent. He smelled like the aftermath of battle, bloody and ashen, but that didn’t matter, because he was alive. “Where are the others? Are they—”

  “Devon and Hansel are all right,” Theo said. He forced a false smile. “They’re out looking for you, but I guess I found you first because I’m so good at what I do.” He chuckled. I saw through his useless facade like glass. He might have laughed, but he could not keep up the friendly pretense for long.

  “What about Liam?” I squeezed Theo’s forearm. Should I prod him for more news? Would I be able to handle it? My nausea increased.


  “The bastard? He’s…” Theo’s eyes darted to the left. The friendly giant avoided my gaze.

  “Theo. What happened to Liam?”

  “He’ll be fine. We think.”

  “Think?” My chest tightened. “Do you know where he is?”

  “Clotho’s looking him over.”

  “Why?”

  “She’s… she’s trying to keep him alive.”

  “Alive…” I attempted to process what Theo was telling me. “Which means that he’s at risk of dying.”

  “Just a slight risk. I wouldn’t worry about it if I were you. There’s no point worrying when—”

  “Take me to him.”

  “You need to get some rest, Cara. You look beautiful, as always, but what you just did sure took a toll on your—”

  “Please.”

  I leveled a hard gaze on him. With that, he no longer had room for argument. He sighed. “Clotho promised that he’ll heal. There’s no need to overreact.”

  “I won’t,” I said with as much conviction as I could muster. Already, I sensed my emotions threatening to combust. I’d hurt Liam with my powers, even though, after Devon, I swore I wouldn’t harm any of my vassals again. Why was I cursed to be like this? “I’ll do my best not to.”

  Theo tilted his head, clearly not trusting my words. I didn’t blame him. I didn’t believe them. He obliged, regardless, and together, we trekked through the burning carnage. I blocked out the pleas and the crackling flames and focused on Theo, using his presence to ground me.

  “Don’t blame yourself for all this,” Theo said. “It’s not your fault.”

  “How can you know that?’

  “You weren’t yourself when you were up there. You had the same body, but that was… Whatever had been up there was too terrifying to be you.”

  “But she came from me.”

  “She?”

  “The angry little girl,” I murmured.

  We walked in silence for a tense moment.

  “She’s not you,” Theo said. “Don’t let her get to you.”

  I was trying not to.

  It was too difficult.

  “Are you all right?” I hadn’t noticed earlier, but Theo seemed off. His usual smile was there, but he moved with far more caution than usual.

  Theo stiffened. “I’m recovering, just as the others are. What happened earlier was a huge mess. No amount of training could have prepared us for it. The rage I sensed wasn’t normal. I… I killed so many.”

  I inhaled sharply. My vassals were trained warriors, but I guessed this much killing affected them, too.

  We stopped in front of a white dome. Inside, I saw Clotho working over Liam. Her fingers danced, thin lines of light trailing from them.

  Theo knocked on the dome as if it were a door. Clotho dipped her head, acknowledging his presence, and, with a short wave of her hand, opened the dome to let us in.

  I took small, nervous steps toward Liam. Clotho had laid him out on a makeshift rug, created from loose fabric that had been roughly gathered together. Liam lay completely still. I was hoping that he was fine. Once I inched closer, all that hope drained out of me. I grew cold.

  That was not Liam.

  Couldn’t be.

  His skin tissue was gone. A large chunk of his beautiful raven hair had been ripped from his scalp and he was missing a limb. The stark white of his femur bone peeked out from where his thigh had been severed. Before me was a ragged being, tiptoeing around the precipice of death. He looked nothing like the strong, stubborn vassal I’d grown to love and adore. Reality lingered around the edges of my mind, knocking against the wall that I’d erected in front of the truth. I bathed myself in denial.

  This was not Liam.

  “What… what happened to him?” A choked cry lodged in my throat. My fingernails dug into my palms. The sting I sensed told me I’d drawn my own blood. I embraced the pain, thinking I deserved it.

  Fenrir sat next to Clotho, ears flattened on its skull. The wolf-dog turned to me after I spoke. It bared its teeth. I took a step back, readying myself for Fenrir to pounce and attack. But it remained where it was, eying me with all the distrust Haven had to offer.

  “I’m sorry,” I said both to Fenrir and Liam. No amount of apologies would make me deserving of forgiveness.

  Caring hurt too much.

  I wanted to go back to being the old Cara. During those days, my biggest worry had been packing on too many pounds after eating loads of red velvet cake. Things were easier and simpler back then. In retrospect, I’d overreacted to all my problems.

  I blamed love.

  Loving people this much drove the stakes too high. It gave me something to lose.

  I wished to wash it all away—heartache proved too overwhelming.

  The pain and guilt drove through my heart like a stake. I lost control of my breathing, my tears, my emotions. “Liam,” I said, my voice shaking pathetically.

  And in sorrow, I heard her again. The angry little girl reveled in my pain, enjoying it far too much. She wished for me to embrace it.

  This is you, she said, her words echoing from the darkest corners of my mind.

  “This is not what I want,” I said. I pulled my hands close to my chest and clasped one over the other.

  I dropped to the ground. My hair fell over my face, hiding me from the world. I didn’t want to face it.

  “He’ll be all right,” Clotho said. “I’ll make that a certainty. I know he looks terrible now, but it’s nothing my powers can’t fix. This is child’s play to me. But we have to talk about what you did just now. What was that?”

  Clotho’s reassurance had come too late. In that short timespan, I’d blocked out all reason. I just wanted to shut everything down.

  I didn’t want to feel.

  I just wanted to hide.

  “Cara?” Clotho turned toward me.

  I shunned reality.

  With that decision, I felt nothing at all.

  And that felt good.

  Chapter 13

  Hansel

  Hansel, Theo, and Devon returned to the goddess council with Cara. It hadn’t been long since they’d left the place, yet it seemed like years had passed. The architecture had not changed. The pillars here still reached high above, adding to the larger-than-life splendor that bathed the council, and the windows shone with the same multicolored stained glass.

  Hansel’s mental state couldn’t adjust to the opulent sight. The scents and visuals of what he’d just experienced at the chiasma were lodged inside his mind. It would take him years to forget that trauma, if he ever would.

  During the battle, Hansel thought he’d gone through hell and back. Hell was a mythical place. Even the goddesses had no knowledge of its existence. But if it were a real location, he had an inkling it might look like what he’d just seen.

  The enemies he’d faced weren’t themselves. They’d lost control, just like he had. He’d hacked away at his opponents. Now that his memory was coming back, he recalled having killed teenagers—village boys far younger than him who’d decided to join Aphrodite’s cause. They had no idea what they’d gotten themselves into.

  Hansel had cuts and bruises everywhere. They’d take a long time to heal. At least they’d recover, unlike the hole losing Cara would leave in his heart.

  Devon cradled Cara in his arms as they walked her to her room. Hansel’s mouth went dry when he looked upon his precious goddess.

  Had they lost her?

  Her eyes were completely devoid of life. They’d done all they could to get her attention. They’d tried talking to her, feeding her. Back at the battlefield, Devon had suggested hitting Cara. He’d almost lost it during their attempts to get her to come back to them.

  They’d failed.

  Cara couldn’t take the mental strain her actions had caused. She’d given up.

  It was heartbreaking to see a fire as bright as hers be extinguished like that. Watching her, Hansel wanted to cry. It took everything in him
to not burst into tears.

  He loved her so much, and now that her wonderful self was missing, he thought he might have lost a part of his soul.

  Please come back to us, he thought. He must have chanted those words in his mind at least a hundred times now. Each waking moment with her gone chipped away at his resolve. His feet dragged across the marbled ground, just like Theo’s and Devon’s did. Liam could not be with them during this tumultuous time. Clotho promised to heal him, but he would need a day before he fully recovered.

  Together, the three of them arrived at Cara’s room. Hansel flipped the switch, and at once, the candles around the room lit up.

  The bed was made. The servants in the council had straightened the sheets out. A fresh scent of flowery perfume permeated the room. It all seemed too neat, too organized. The difference in environment was too stark for Hansel.

  “She’s still not reacting,” Devon said. “It could only be temporary. Maybe she’ll wake tomorrow.” With a solemn expression, Devon set Cara down on her bed. She sank into the mattress like a dead body might. Her hands fell limply onto the duvet.

  She still looked alive. The small rise and fall of her chest indicated that she breathed.

  But the things that made Cara who she was—her liveliness, her smile—had disappeared.

  Hansel and Theo shared a grave look. Devon’s words sounded like wishing thinking. At the chiasma, when Hansel returned from his search for Cara, he hadn’t expected to see her back with Clotho, her eyes dead and cold.

  Her soul had left.

  He considered her current state his failure. He should have been more careful. Cara did appear reluctant to be turned into a goddess. Maybe he should have fought harder for her wishes. She was less powerful, but happier as a half-blood.

  Maybe…

  Just maybe…

  But there was no time for hindsight.

  The consequences of his failures lay before him, evidenced by the empty shell of Cara.

  He needed a way to fix her. Save her from this broken state.

  He recalled the first time he saw her at the convenience store. She might not have remembered it, but the memory had burned in his mind. As a vassal, he’d been afraid that his half-blood might be monstrous. But when he laid eyes on her, relief swelled through him. He recognized the fire in her immediately. He thought to fan it and watch her grow. He wanted her to burn for all of eternity, lighting all of Haven and Earth with her brightness.