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Chapter

Thirty-Six

Ravencrux

Too Late

W e flew at breakneck speed until we reached Forsaken Academy. The school stood nearly deserted. The tower was empty when we arrived, so we tracked Morrigan to the three-story Victorian she shared with Dante and Orren, just blocks from Ravencrux Tower. There, we found her sprawled on the floor.

Dante slapped her cheek hard, jolting her awake. Her eyes fluttered open, dazed and unfocused.

“Shit,” she slurred. “Someone must have drugged my tea.”

“How?” Orren snapped. He had shifted into his humanoid form, one he despised, but the academy demanded it. For my mate, though, he would endure anything.

“I ordered it from the Coven’s Brew Café,” she muttered, pushing herself up on unsteady arms. “What’s going on? Weren’t you supposed to be back days ago?”

“We were delayed,” I said, my jaw clenched. “Where’s Bloom?”

Morrigan’s face twisted with guilt. “I—I don’t know. I’m so sorry!”

“You had one job!” Dante snarled.

I didn’t waste time on anger. “Find her. Now!”

I forced myself to breathe, to think past the thunderous fear roaring in my skull. A blade of dread stabbed deep into my chest. Orren met my gaze, his eyes shadowed with guilt and terror. He had been her guardian; he adored her more fiercely than anyone, even me.

This was staged. Zeus had lured me away from the academy, and then some fuckers—Poseidon’s lackeys, Apollo, or one of the others—had struck.

They might not have killed her themselves, but their hands were all over this.

In my eyes, they were murderers. Though I hadn’t managed to kill them yet, that would change.

We soon learned that the students had taken a field trip to Patchogue. I sent Dante to scour the academy grounds, just in case.

Orren, Morrigan, and I raced toward the town.

The festival was still going on when we arrived. Orren tracked Bloom’s scent straight to the heart of the market before stopping abruptly. He dropped low, a guttural howl tearing from his throat. My glamour made him look like a German shepherd, not the three-headed hell beast he truly was.

Then I saw it, a dark smear of blood on the cobblestones. Bloom’s blood.

My heart plunged into frozen terror. I was a god of death. There was no one left for me to beg.

Don’t let me be too late. The plea looped in my mind, useless but desperate. Cold panic churned in my gut like acid. Please. Not again.