Reckless Souls (Saints Academy, #1)(86)
the noise is coming from the side door to my right that must lead into another office. Low mutterings
filter through, the topic of conversation seemingly intense as two people shuffle around.
We don’t move another inch, planted in place so we don’t get caught for being in here, but my
pulse begins to ring in my ears when their words finally become loud enough for us to hear.
“Can you believe the vision she just foretold?” a woman asks, shock and surprise etched into her
voice, and Zen’s fingers flex around my wrist as he steps back toward me, almost trying to shield me
as we both listen.
“I didn’t think it was possible,” someone else responds with a sigh, and I twist my lips to the
side, intrigued to know what has the administration staff so worked up.
“How are we supposed to go through all that again? I can’t handle the mere thought of it,
nevermind the actual first-hand experience,” the first lady cries out, tension radiating through the wall
as the other seems to try and comfort her.
“What has me most concerned is the fact it will be at the hands of a student at this very Academy.
You and I both know Zellus will not allow it. Never again.”
Allow what? I frown, glancing to Zen to see if he can piece together more than I can from what
they’re saying, but he offers me a subtle shake of his head in response.
The gossiping women don’t leave us in suspense for long though, the fear that’s sparked within
them falling from their tongue so freely.
“The darkness is coming. Again.”
Chapter 25
Rhea
I step into the huge hall for my Skills class with Professor Fury, catching the side profile of his
constant scowl as I drop my satchel down beside Harmonia’s, who offers me an apologetic smile
before bouncing over to the group of angels in the far right corner of the room.
Shaking my head at her sympathy, I feel Zen’s gaze from where he stands near Harmonia, under
the same umbrella of magic skills since they're both descendants of angels. I refuse to meet his eyes,
instead, observing the room before me.
After what I overheard yesterday with Zen, I can’t help but cast my gaze over every single person
in here, wondering if they’re the one from the vision the women were talking about. The one who will
bring back the darkness. But it all confuses the hell out of me.
The plain cream walls behind me separate the room from the rest of the main building, but
otherwise the entire space is surrounded by stained glass, like an atrium. Yellows, blues, greens, and
reds splatter the glass, some in random marks, others in intricate details of Gods that have passed.
Hecate, Apollo, and even Zeus is there, but he’s still among us.
I’m surprised the rest of the members of the Hex aren’t up there with him, but who am I to
question the decorative choices of the Academy?
Flooded with natural light, the room practically glows. It’s a pity it’s my worst class with such a
beautiful setting. Since everything in here is skills based, I’m practically useless until we know which
species I descend from. The angels take the far right, demons beside them straight ahead, leaving the
Gods to take the far left. This then puts the vampires directly to my left and the shifters to my right.
And me… floating somewhere in between.
After all of the conversations with the Elites, they seem certain I’m not a wolf or a vampire with
the little bursts of power we’ve seen, so I’m ultimately wasting my time when I have to watch their
areas. It’s not like I can mention our findings to Professor Fury though. That's completely pointless
and I don’t really think he’d give a shit about our theories.
As everyone else separates off, I step toward the man in question, watching as he taps away on
his laptop for a moment, propped on the only piece of furniture in the room; his desk.
He doesn’t meet my gaze, not right away, completely inconvenienced by the sight of me, but I
don’t care if he likes me or not, and I don’t care if he doesn’t appreciate me floating between groups.
It’s not like it was my choice, but the way he glares at me tells me he feels different.
Asshole.
His brown hair stops just below his ear, brushed back off his face like he constantly has a reason
to run his fingers through it. With his chiseled jawline and piercing mint green eyes, you could almost
say he’s attractive, but his permanent scowl ruins the entire thing.
With my sports shorts and tee on, I fold my arms over my chest, my hair swept back in a loose
ponytail, I glance around once more while waiting for him to call the class to order.
Who had a vision that could predict the future?
Who would bring the darkness back? And why?
It was a part of the war no one talks about, fear rendering them mute, so I have no idea what it
was actually about, but the uncertainty easily slips through your bones as you hear a tremble in the
voices of those who experienced it. Once Nyx died, so did the darkness.
What had me more intrigued was whether this knowledge would go public. My gut said no, but it