Reckless Souls (Saints Academy, #1)(37)

“Adonis. You can’t let him speak to me like that,” Selene whines, squeezing his biceps, and I roll

my eyes. The sound of her voice is like that of a petulant child and if they want to listen to her, then all

the power to them.

Fuck this shit. I’m out of here.

Taking quieter steps, I edge around them, but before I fully escape the group, my eyes lock with

Xander’s. It’s like he can see right through to my bones with the way he eyes me, but what surprises

me most of all, is the soft smile he offers me a glimpse of before he turns back to Adonis and the

supreme bitch, trying to diffuse the situation.

Going in search of Harmonia, I keep tight lipped on what just happened.

I don’t think she’d believe me if I told her anyway.





Chapter 11

Rhea

I spent the rest of the weekend hiding out in my room. A mixture of studying the material that had

already been covered before I arrived, the assignments currently set, and finding ecstasy at my

own hands as I thought about green eyes and vampire blood. More than once.

Fucking hell.

Khaos fucking Black is going to be the death of me.

I heard Adonis singing in the shower this morning, almost like he was luring me in like a siren,

tempting me to step inside and catch him in the act just like last time, but I refrained. Barely.

Friday night was… crazy, and the way he interrupted Khaos and me still leaves me confused, but I

refuse to give in and seek him out to understand what he meant when he said Khaos gave in first.

Now, I’m standing across from Hector in Combat class, with Professor Riva giving out orders of

moves we should be making with the long sticks he handed out to each of us.

Two lines of students face each other, which is why I have such an unfortunate view of Hector

before me, as Riva explains the weight balance and how that can impact the use of the weapon.

Admittedly, it’s heavier than it first looked, my arms are taut with tension and I’m sure using it in the

right way would cause some damage, but I can’t seem to figure out a situation where I would reach

for one.

Like where am I going to keep it? My back pocket?

I obviously don’t mention a word as I spin it in front of me, before slamming the end into the grass

at my feet, just as he’s demonstrating. Everyone repeats the movement over and over again until he

finally claps, signaling us to stop, and I almost feel like I have a handle on it.

“Excellent, next lesson we may amp it up a little and use them to practice one on one with another

student,” he explains, and a drop of excitement buzzes through me at the thought of inflicting pain.

“Dismissed.”

Please, dear Gods, put Hector or Selene across from me. I would take far too much fucking

pleasure in rearranging their faces with this pole. A small grin graces my lips, and I shake my head

quickly to clear the expression before anyone misinterprets my happiness. Someone would know

something is up if they were to see me wearing a big ass cheesy smile with teeth and all.

Brushing my hair back off my face, I instantly find Harmonia in the scattered crowd as everyone

moves toward the stand to place their poles away. Thank God it’s lunch next, I’m starving.

I meet her at the racks, both placing our poles in the holders. “Do you want to head straight for

lunch and get changed for the last class afterward? I'm so hungry, I don’t think I can wait,” Harmonia

says, pleading, pink eyes meeting mine, and my shoulders sag in relief just as my stomach growls.

“Hell yeah, I was just thinking the same,” I reply, moving toward where we placed our satchels

earlier when the feel of ice water disorientates me for a moment, gushing over my head and trickling

down my spine.

I stand frozen in shock, arms out to the side as my shorts and t-shirt stick to me. Mouth wide, I

glance around me, the sound of laughter echoing around the space as a smug-faced Selene grins at me

from a few feet away.

That bitch.

That motherfucking bitch practically poured a bucket of water over my fucking head.

I can hear Harmonia audibly gasp at the sight, and time pauses momentarily as I try to gauge my

reactions to the ridiculous prank.

“What’s going on?” I hear the professor call out, before appearing in front of me, the center of

everyone’s attention as they stand and stare at me dripping wet. I pinch my t-shirt, pulling it away

from my skin because the water is fucking cold. Riva takes one look at me and disappointment colors

his eyes. I must look like a drowned rat. “Who did this?” he barks, turning to glance at every student,

but I shake my head quickly, and drop my hands to my side. I get he might have a responsibility as a

professor to handle the situation, but causing a scene isn’t necessary.

“It’s fine, it’s just water,” I say, swiping a hand down my face. I clear the droplets of water that

continue to trickle down from my forehead as he turns to look at me again, with concern written all

over his face. I don’t need his misplaced sympathy.