Chapter
One
Bloom
Golden Net & Crimson Threads
Everything happened too fast.
One moment I was lost in Nero’s arms. The next, the ceiling above us shattered with a deafening crack. Wood and stone rained down, only to be caught by a shadow barrier that snapped into place an instant before impact. The roof peeled back like rotten parchment, revealing a night sky churned into a violent storm.
Icy rain poured through the gaping wound, slashing against my fevered skin. Mixed within the downpour came glinting meteor dust, falling like cursed poisoned. Where each golden particle touched my skin, it burned, leaving searing trails in its wake.
I gasped as the air in the bedroom plummeted to freezing. The soft light that glowed from the walls flickered and died, replaced by the pallid, eerie light of the chaos above. Dark marble floors, streaked with veins of red and orange like frozen hellfire, grew slick with rainwater.
The Persian rug with its pomegranates and dark blooms was already soaked through.
Then the net fell.
It dropped through the torn ceiling in a cascade of golden mesh, expanding as it descended. Its metal sang a high-pitched keening that set my teeth on edge. It settled over us, its weight pressing down, the edges sealing against the floor with a hiss of magic that crackled in the air.
“The fucking net,” Nero cursed, the words thick with fury.
I had believed Hephaestus’s net was only a myth. When Helios revealed Aphrodite’s infidelity to Hephaestus, the god of the forge crafted a golden net no being could break. He trapped his wife and Ares in it, then summoned the pantheon to witness their shame.
And now it held Nero and me.
I stared at him in horror, my pulse a frantic drum against my ribs. The reality crashed over me like ice water—we were caught, exposed. Every dread I’d harbored since the day Nero first buried his face between my thighs and feasted on me until I screamed was now unfolding.
Nero turned me swiftly, his body covering mine to shield me even as he remained hard inside me. His dark gaze met mine for a fractured second—protective, possessive, furious—before power erupted from him in waves.
Living shadows clawed, his hellfire snapped, but neither could erode the golden strands holding us. The golden mesh absorbed every strike, neutralizing his power and containingit. Each time his shadows and hellfire touched the metal, they fizzled out.
Nero’s bellow of pure rage shook the remaining walls.
Then they came.
Professor Carl Kingsley dropped through the open roof, his rune-etched armor gleaming in the rain. Behind him descended a dozen more beings. They landed one by one, surrounding the bed where Nero and I lay trapped.
The newcomers were giants, each standing at least eight feet tall. A few bore a roughly humanoid shape, while the others possessed human torsos topped with the fierce heads of eagles, lions, and bulls. Aside from Kingsley, none belonged to this academy.
From beneath Nero, I studied his opponent. Kingsley’s silver eyes seemed to devour the light, his power a violent tremor in the air. Water streamed down his face, plastering glowing silver hair to his skull. He looked like the God of the Sea himself.
Enraged, Nero rammed his power through the net. Death magic joined the shadows, a darkness that sought to consume the golden threads. He strained to tear his enemies apart, to shield what was his. But every burst of power dissolved into nothing upon impact.
Kingsley laughed, cruel and mocking, his minions joining him.
“Ravencrux,” Kingsleytsked. "You might as well surrender. Perhaps an eon ago you could have shattered the net. But now? You're barely a step above a mongrel. And really, you have only yourself to blame for that."
“Pathetic,” screeched the eagle-headed being.
I swallowed hard. I didn’t know what Nero’s power had been like before whatever had diminished him, but even now, it felt immense. If this was only a pale shadow of his former strength,then he must have been something beyond comprehension. A god. One of the great ones.
Even as Kingsley and his followers taunted him, they were careful not to say too much. They didn’t speak his true name, didn’t reveal who Ravencrux really was.
Nero commanded shadows and death.
Could he be Hades himself?
