The weight of the entire arena fixed on me as well. If I hadn’t remembered who I truly was, I could never have borne it—their outrage, their judgment, their condemnation.
Every Olympian had come for the spectacle. To witness my final fall. All except my mother, whose eyes held a flicker of concern beneath the ice.
But she had betrayed me too. She arranged my fate. Decided what was best for me without asking, without caring what I wanted.
A tangle of emotions seared through me—too intense, too messy to name. Rage, grief, bitter disappointment, all twisted together.
I couldn’t go there. Not now.
I was about to fight, and I wasn’t just fighting for myself or my mate. I had a house to protect. Students who’d pledged loyalty, who deserved more than to be slaughtered as pawns.
I shoved everything down and kept my face stone cold.
A salpinx, a long, piercing war trumpet, cut through the arena, followed by the students’ battle cries. They thought this was their chance to shine. To earn favor from the gods.
They didn’t see that they were just meat for the grinder.
Just as I’d expected, the students from the House of Kingsley charged toward me, their spears and swords raised high.
My house moved as one, forming a protective ring around me. Brave. Loyal. Probably about to die.
“Diamond formation!” I roared. “I lead!”
A longsword materialized in my grip, summoned from mist and memory. Pure Persephone magic—calling a weapon from nothing. Something no mortal could do.
The first Kingsley student reached me, a boy of maybe seventeen, spear aimed at my heart, his face twisted with eager violence. Promised a reward for my death, no doubt.
I sidestepped easily and drove my sword through his throat.
His eyes flared wide with surprise—shock at my speed, at the brutal precision of the strike.
I wrenched the blade free, spun, and sliced the second attacker across the stomach. The female student fell, screaming.
I’d excelled at swordplay eons before these children were born.
“Forward!” I shouted, cutting a path through the ranks of the House of Kingsley. None of them could hold me back. No foe stood a chance. “Stay in formation!”
Our small group moved as one machine. I led them north, fighting toward the main cluster of our house.
Sindy stayed close behind me, casting spells with precision, expelling any foes who tried to flank us.
“On your left, Bloom!” she shouted a warning.
I dropped just as a blade whistled over my head and drove my sword into the offender’s chest.
Blood sprayed hot across my face. The metallic scent filled the air.
Around us, the battle raged; screams, the clash of steel, the thud of falling bodies.
The witches and mages of Stardust House shifted east toward their own kind. They weren’t engaging Kingsley or Ravencrux, just staying clear of the melee. Their strategy was obvious: let us kill each other, then sweep in and claim victory over whoever was left standing.
Neutral. Just like their headmistress. Playing all sides.
“To me!” My voice bellowed through the chaos. “Ravencrux House, to me!”
Our scattered members fought their way toward me; a boy with a mace, blood streaking his forehead; a girl with twin daggers. More converged from every direction. I drew them toward me like moths to a flame; they were mine to protect.
We had to fight as one. Kingsley outnumbered us nearly two to one, especially their third-years.
