Reckless Souls (Saints Academy, #1)(41)

other mess that was on my face, leaving me with clear cuts and bruises. My right eye is slightly

discolored and tender with a bit of puffiness. There’s a cut on the bridge of my nose, with another

small slice on my left cheekbone, but the fact that I don’t have two black eyes or a crooked nose tells

me it’s not broken.

Overall, I look red and blotchy with the mixture of blue and purple bruising on my face. Like an

overripe peach left to wilt on a hot summer's day. People will notice, and I’m sure they’ll have much

to say, but I won’t wear makeup to hide it. The limited pieces I have will likely only enhance the

damage and make it look worse.

I’m still in my Combat uniform, my t-shirt no longer wet from my run-in with Selene yesterday,

but red splodges mark the material. I am grateful that no one tried to undress me while I was in a deep

sleep. That would have been a whole different situation to worry about.

But I need to shower. And eat. In that order.

Stepping over to the glass shower stall, I twist the dial to turn the water on, before moving back

and stripping slowly as I wait for the temperature to heat. I spot the marble of purples and blues on

my waist, and cringe.

I take the fluffy cream towel from the rack and place it at the entry to the shower, before stepping

under the spray. I stand, as frozen as I was yesterday, only this time by choice, letting the warm water

cascade down my back in a gentle caress. The water doesn’t pound against my battered skin causing

discomfort, so I consider that a win.

After a few minutes, I reach for the shower gel, lathering the soap in my hands before I rid my

body of the grime and blood painting the remainder of my skin.

My fluid movements almost lull me into a sense of calmness, my tense shoulders slowly relaxing

as I shampoo and condition my hair. A heavy sigh falls from my lips as I turn the shower off, happy

with the new state of myself, before I reach for the towel and wrap it snugly around my body.

Steam billows around me as I move back to the vanity to brush my teeth, impressed with the anti—

fog mirror, when my movements freeze at the sound of a voice coming from my right, completely

catching me off guard.

“How are you feeling?”

I whirl around in a panic and come face to face with Adonis. He’s shirtless, his blond hair swept

back off his face like he’s run his hands through it a time or two, with a pair of circular glasses on the

bridge of his nose. His piercing eyes sear into mine, likely observing my reaction to his intrusion.

Adonis’ expression is blank, not reacting to my battered face as he expectantly waits for an answer

and casually slips his hands into his sweatpants pockets.

Clutching the towel tighter around me, I swallow past the lump in my throat before taking a deep

breath. “I could have sworn I locked that door,” I state with a frown, completely avoiding his

question, and he instantly shrugs.

“You only closed it. I was awake,” he replies, like it all makes perfect sense, but it doesn’t really

explain what he’s doing in here when he knows I was in the shower.

“Well, I didn’t slip in the shower and fall to my impending death, so you can leave now,” I

grumble, pulling my gaze from his as I reach for my toothbrush and busy myself, effectively

dismissing him.

Minutes tick by as I run through the process of getting ready for the day, but the motherfucker

doesn’t leave. He just stands there, watching me.

“Are you going to explain what happened yesterday?” he asks when I finish, crossing his arms. I

immediately shake my head but regret it as soon as the pounding resumes.



“I don’t need you to help me,” I say with a sigh, running my hand over my wet hair as I grip the

ends of my towel with the other.

“I didn’t say I was, and that was not what I asked you,” he retorts quickly, leaning against the door

frame with a raised eyebrow, and I roll my eyes.

“Then get the fuck out.” I give him a scathing look, before spinning on my heels and taking the

decision out of his hands, heading for my own door.

“Rhea, I think—”

“I don’t really care what you think. I have enough shit to deal with,” I grouch, shaking a hand in

front of my face, hinting at the beating I took yesterday. “I don’t need you suddenly wanting to swoop

in like a fucking hero,” I hiss, wrapping my hand around the door handle, and just as I’m ready to

slam the door shut behind me, he tilts his head back and barks out a laugh.

“I’m the son of Hades, earthling, hero isn’t even a word in my vocabulary.”

I close my bedroom door behind me, running my fingers down my blazer as Harmonia smiles over at

me, and I offer a small one in response.

“Do I need to apologize for knocking you out yesterday?” she asks, a hint of guilt mixed with

determination swirling in her eyes, and I shake my head with a sigh.

“No, I clearly needed it, and as much as I was probably resisting at the time, I’m sure my body