My thoughts fixed on the woman I wanted in every lifetime. Maiden. Goddess. Mortal. The form didn’t matter. I’d always find her. Claim her. Keep her.
It wasn’t obsession—it was a primal need. She was my air. But I wouldn’t waste my breath explaining that to Poseidon, who played professor at Reaper Academy.
I sneered. Another lash fell, its barbs stripping away flesh. My back was ruined. I didn’t give a fuck.
“Every one of her mortal shells is worthless. This one is the weakest,” Kingsley continued, voice still muted. “It doesn’t matter that you take the lashing for her. She won’t survive this. I’m giving you a way out. You’re still my brother.”
“Do you know what your problem is?” I asked. “What it’s always been?”
“What?” he demanded.
“No one wants to be near you because you’re a tedious fuck,” I snorted. “Do us both a favor. Shut up.”
The next lash bit deep. Scraped bone. I swallowed the groan. Denied him the satisfaction.
This wasn’t just an iron whip. It was Hera’s curse. Zeus’s jealous bitch-queen made sure each strike didn’t just flay. It drained. Siphoned my power drop by drop. Meant to break me.
“Every time she dies, you diminish,” Kingsley pressed, savoring the sound of his own voice. He never knew when to stop. Probably why he had to force women. No one came to him willingly. “She makes you less. And you still keep the vow. She doesn’t remember. She’ll never remember. You’re pathetic. Unworthy of the title ‘god.’”
“As if I give a fuck about your opinion,” I sneered. “I am a professor here.”
“I’ll strip you of that title,” he promised.
“You dare? You have no fucking right. No authority?—”
The whip cracked. His voice boomed, unmuted now, for all to hear. “By my word, I strip Nero Ravencrux of his professorship at Reaper Academy!”
The pronouncement fell. A binding force snapped into place, and a sheen of dark red light washed over both Kingsley and me before it dissipated.
It was done. Binding.
I was no longer a professor.
But no one, not even Stardust, could expel me from these grounds. I was a Founder. That right was unbreakable.
He’d taken the bait. The fool had no idea he’d just carved an opening for Bloom and me. I’d turned his hatred against him—his rage, his jealousy.
The loopholes were now clear. I could stay. A vicious, victorious laugh surged through me. I could be with my mate whenever I wished. Nothing stood between us now. The rule forbidding professors and students no longer applied. I wasn’t her professor.
I could protect her day and night.
Another lash split my back anew. One might think agony had a limit. It didn’t. Each strike layered upon the last, pain building into a symphony of suffering. But torture could never break me. Pain was an old companion.
A few feet away, Bloom sobbed, tears jeweling her lashes. Her face was pale, lips trembling, but her gaze held fire, defiance and fury etching into every line of anguish. Her red hair caught the thin light bleeding through the clouds. Even in distress, even heartbroken, she was devastating.
The most beautiful thing in any world. Across any lifetime.
My chest tightened. I hated her tears. Hated that they’d forced her to watch. I would make them pay over and over.
“Do not cry, love,” I said in the old tongue, not the forbidden god-speech, but the dead language that predated the gods themselves. A loophole they’d never thought to close either. “It honors me to endure for you. Even this.”
Her eyes widened. She understood. She shouldn’t—but she did.
Then, firestorm ignited in her gaze. Rage. Power. Awakening.
She raised her bloodied fingers. I saw what she’d done while I’d held Kingsley’s attention.
Four intricate threads of crimson light soared toward me. They blazed through the damp air, humming with purpose.
