“Demetra is a descendant to Demeter, Goddess of Harvest and Fertility,” Theodore announced. “She’s one eighth goddess and also has a hint of siren heritage.”
Demetra raised her chin high. At an eighth goddess, she was what she’d said she was, even if she’d exaggerated the percentage of her godly blood.
Even so, the hall gasped. She was indeed close to a demigoddess.
Theodore looked down at her and nodded. “Congratulations, Demetra. You’ve passed the first trial. You may return to your rank.”
What? This was only the first trial?
Now I felt sorry for everyone.
Demetra glided back to our row as if she’d just been crowned. She shot me a haughty look. What had I done to her this time?
Then Jack was called and went through the same ritual. He proved to be a distant descendant of Zeus, but there was no shame of that. Most soldiers were a distant descendant, and Zeus was the current King of the Gods.
Then another clique boy was called. When the first rune hit his chest, he screamed and screamed, and then he dropped dead.
My blood went cold in my veins.
Two Dominion soldiers moved forward swiftly and removed the burned corpse.
Two other outsider initiates didn’t make it either. They screamed and died.
Then it was Nat’s turn. Yelena went all pale when his name was called. I grabbed her hand to support her, and she squeezed my hand back, hers shaking.
Nat made it. He was a distant descendant of Hephaestus, the God of Metal.
Then it was Yelena’s turn, and I prayed for her to live. She and Nat were the only ones who were friendly to me.
Yelena turned out to be a not too distant descendant of Poseidon. Yet the Demigod of the Sea wasn’t looking at the initiate who belonged to his house. He was looking at me.
Then my name was called.
I shot Axel a venomous look, and his dark eyebrow quirked, playing innocent. I could almost hear his silent question, “What was that for, darling?”
I was nowhere near as graceful as Demetra when I stepped onto the stool. Somehow my foot missed it, and I stumbled. But my hands caught the edge of the operating table.
A few snickers sounded from the clique.
Out of the twelve other initiates, five had perished, including a few members of their circle, and they didn’t even care?
No one seemed to give a fuck except me. I mourned and was angered at the meaningless waste.
Theodore moved toward me with the flaming dagger in his hand.
“You sure you really want to do this?” I whispered, pleading, hoping a slice of compassion would rise in him.
Theodore only glared as if he’d had enough of me.
“A deal is a deal, Marigold,” Axel said from his throne.
It was utterly pointless to argue with an asshole, especially a very powerful one.
I heard the sea demigod murmured something to Axel. “This girl tires me like no other. For centuries—since we started this ritual—we haven’t met anyone as annoying and disrespectful and mouthy as her. If it were up to me, I’d just get rid of her right here, right now. I don’t see why you’re so obsessed. But then you’re almost as young as she is.”
Ignoring Paxton’s snide comments, Axel rose from his throne and strode toward me, power trailing behind him like silver shadows.
Unlike the other two demigods, he wore a dress shirt, denim pants, and a fashionable trench coat. I tore my gaze from roving over his cut chest to his powerful legs. That might be the last sexy sight I’d see.