“No one is allowed to enter this dome except my father and me,” Loki said. “Anyone tries, kill them on sight.”
“What if that god comes?” the dark mage asked.
“Stall him and summon me right away,” Loki said.
“Yes, prince,” all three voices answered.
I stared at the coffin’s black lid, feeling every ounce of the venom infused with the devil’s and god’s dark spells coursing in my blood as if it owned me.
I’d endure.
And I’d slaughter everything that moved in Hell.
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CHAPTER 3
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My enemies were lettingme rot here.
Numerous seconds trickled into infinity.
I didn’t know how long I lay there awake, suffering icy cold beneath me and hunger burning inside me.
My three jailors were still there.
I felt their foul energy pulsing, greedy for more power but unable to absorb more.
They didn’t converse. They didn’t bother to be sociable with one another. They stayed outside the dome, not too close and not too far from it.
The last time Loki had visited, he’d informed me that two months had passed down here, which was two weeks in Earth’s time.
How much time had lapsed on Earth this time around?
Did the demigods still remember me? Had they purged the last traces of my existence from their memories after they learned that I wasn’t the Marigold they’d once lusted and cherished but an embarrassment, a black dot they needed to scrape clean? Had the Academy erased my name from its records? I had never been a good example anyway.
What about my friends, Nat, Yelena, Circe, Jasper, and their pack friends? Were they ashamed of me? Did they wish they’d never befriended a black sheep like me?
Inside this dark, cold coffin, I even missed my long-time nemesis—One-eighth.
She might be throwing a grand party to celebrate my disgrace, my death, and her victory over me. Had she already made a move on my demigods? Winning one of them was her ultimate goal. With me out of the picture, would she finally get to the demigods while they were emotionally vulnerable and probably in need of a distraction?