Page 54 of Interion

The god of Life protected this world with all the care of a worried father. But despite his efforts, he arrived too late. Three creatures had already hidden themselves within society.

When the purge came to an end, only the gods' favorite world had been spared, and no one knew what to do—for they loved the children created there, and all the gods drew sustenance from that love and adoration. Then Seijhe found a way to solve the problem…

The words ended abruptly. I flipped through the rest of the pages, but they were blank.

Emerging from the translation, I felt my eyes aching and heavy from the exhausting reading. On the table, the clock showed 1 a.m. I'd been so engrossed that I hadn't noticed the time passing. I was curious to know the rest—more than half the book still remained unread, and I had never heard that story about Anabel. According to Yonser's religion, the Goddess of Death was considered the purest and most sacred divinity among the five, precisely because she was untouched.

Either the book was defaming Anabel, or Yonser was worshiping a lie.

I removed my pink gloves and closed the book. The image of the circle of wings was still engraved on the cover, but unfortunately, the mark hadn't been mentioned even once. I'd hoped to find something that could help Ambrose in his search for answers about the patient and was disappointed not to find anything useful. Still, that didn't mean there wouldn't be answers in there—after all, two-thirds of the book was still blank, and I just needed to find a way to unlock the rest.

Maybe it wasn't a good idea, but curiosity was killing me, so I tried again. I placed my hand on the cover, but the design only repelled me. It was like trying to push two magnets together from opposite ends.

I figured it was because I lacked energy—if the book extracted any more magic, I'd end up exhausted and bedridden for a week before returning to normal. So I grumbled irritably and left the book on the table. As soon as my magic returned, I would try again.

Chapter 15

“Here, loser.” Adele held out two small pieces of paper. I looked at her hand as if she were offering me something from the depths of hell.

“What’s this?” I asked, confused. It was Thursday and we’d just finished an obstacle course. I was out of breath and had come over to grab water from the pink bottle I kept on the losers’ table.

“Are you blind as well as dumb?” She tossed the papers onto the table beside me. “They’re the invitations from the bet.”

When the Yonserian started to turn away, I grabbed her wrist.

“Where are my things?” I asked, keeping my voice low so no one would pay attention. Not that it would help much—everyone could hear us from the other side of the room if they wanted to.

Adele flashed me a mocking smile and tried to pull free.

“Are you losing it, dear?”

She yanked her wrist again but couldn’t break free. Yonserians might be more graceful, but they didn’t stand a chance against the brute strength of Drutes genetics.

“You know what I’m talking about,” I growled, squeezing harder. “I want the whole bag on top of my locker today, Adele.”

She stared at me for a moment, then bit her lower lip and smiled with scorn.

“Beg,” Adele whispered softly, winking at me. “If you really want the bag, beg me to consider it. I hear Drutes are experts at humiliating themselves.”

“You’re disgusting,” I said, losing my temper.

“Me? Are you sure? I wasn’t the one naked on top of the general the other night. If I’d known that was going to happen, I would’ve hidden my own clothes and climbed on that stool myself.”

A feral, primitive growl escaped my throat. The students looked at us in alarm. I was shocked by my own involuntary reaction, but the savagery had such a grip on me that I couldn’t focus on anything except Adele making moves on my partner.

“You two,” Zion called out. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the blonde’s face—it was like a target I was desperate to slice open. She turned toward the sound of his voice, and only then could I do the same. “Why don’t we continue the fights with you two, since you’re so fired up?” He pointed to the mat. “Come on!”

Neither of us moved, so the trainer continued:

“Let’s go! Or do you only like fighting off the mat?” he demanded, his tone growing more serious. “Don’t make me drag you over here, because any other teacher would do exactly that. Or should we take this to the principal’s office?”

Adele seemed to shudder, and Zion glared at us furiously, stepping aside to let us into the ring. The students looked on, confused about what was happening. I was still furious with her, but I released her wrist. She stomped over and took her position in the ring. I had no choice but to walk over and face her.

“Begin!” he ordered.

I dropped into a fighting stance, fists raised to protect my face. This was different. This fight was different somehow. I didn’t feel like someone who wanted to be invisible—I didn’t want to go unnoticed. I wanted to cause pain. I wanted to make her swallow every single word. I wanted to make her pay. The look on Adele’s face said she understood and was satisfied. The blonde attacked first with a right hook, but I ducked, and while she was mid-swing, I landed a punch to her stomach. I’d learned that move from Aish: strike fast while your opponent is in the middle of a blow.

She staggered backward but stayed on her feet. Her satisfied expression had shifted to irritation. We circled each other, and this time I went after her. I feinted a punch; she dodged and went exactly where I wanted. I swept her right foot—her support leg—and Adele hit the ground with a heavy thud. I was on top of her in seconds.