Chapter 2

After that night at the Observatory Tower, I became a walking target for every girl on campus.

Vicious rumors about me spread through the Academy like wildfire.

Some said I'd been secretly practicing forbidden enchantment magic, stringing along several upperclassmen while still throwing myself at Bradley behind closed doors.

Others whispered that I played the diligent scholarship student by day, but snuck down to Lower City taverns by night, selling myself to mercenaries and alchemists to cover tuition.

The most ridiculous version claimed I was the kept plaything of some bloated member of the Academy's Board of Trustees—which supposedly explained why I looked down on every young mage here.

In short, to the professors and my peers alike, I'd become something filthy. Something passed around. Tainted.

I knew exactly where it all started: my roommate Elara and her little clique.

They envied that Bradley cared about me. They hated that I'd effortlessly won the attention they desperately craved, only to throw it back in his face in front of everyone.

I stayed silent. Never defended myself once.

I'd thought of him as the sun, and I knew too well what I truly was. That's why I rejected him—I refused to drag him down into the suffocating darkness of Mistwood Canyon.

As for my ruined reputation—honestly, every man who'd died screaming in that canyon had seen our tribe's women at their most savage and bloodthirsty.

Medusas never gave a damn about human notions of virtue or propriety.

A few days after the rumors had wrapped themselves around every corner of the Academy, an enchanted paper crane tapped at my window.

A message from Bradley. He was worried about me, wanted to publicly clear my name, and asked me to meet him at Starlight Plaza in the capital.

He looked exactly as I remembered—radiant in that familiar white shirt with silver embroidery, clean and bright with that flawless face.

The moment I sat down, Bradley slid a glass of iced golden apple cider toward me, guilt flooding his expression. He said he shouldn't have been so reckless at that celebration, that he'd ignored my feelings and caused people to tear my name apart.

"Cecilia, I'm sorry. If you won't even drink this, it means you still haven't forgiven me." His tone was painfully sincere, almost self-deprecating.

The cold glass dampened my fingertips. As a Medusa, I should've been on high alert about anything I consumed.

But looking at that raw guilt in his eyes, and remembering I was going to drain him eventually anyway, some twisted sense of shame overpowered my caution.

I didn't hesitate. Lifted the glass and downed it in one go, then smiled at him. "It's fine. I don't blame you."

Truth was, from a certain perspective, if I couldn't find a substitute before the deadline, I'd have no choice but to return to the tribe and deal with my breeding-crazed kin.

When that time came, I'd be "passed around" too.

Seeing me drink, Bradley visibly relaxed. Then he pulled me into the plaza crowds.

Setting aside the curse hanging over me, it really was a day like something out of a dream.

He took me through the shimmering floating markets, fed glowing magic fish at the wishing fountain, and brought me to watch the grand griffin aerial show.

He was perfectly attentive—shielding me from the press of bodies, silently buying me enchanted trinkets I'd glanced at a second too long.

The atmosphere was so perfect it created an illusion. I briefly forgot all the dark magic and death saturating Mistwood Canyon, wanting only to lose myself in this sweet fantasy where I didn't have to carry my cursed fate.

During the nighttime griffin performance, standing in the crowd, he naturally took my hand and held it tight.

Feeling the burning heat of his palm, my heart raced beyond control. Out of pure selfishness, I couldn't bring myself to pull away.

But right after the show ended, violent dizziness slammed into me. Not just that—uncontrollable heat surged through my veins like magma, and my legs went so weak I could barely stand.

Bradley caught me as I swayed, anxiously bringing me to a nearby upscale inn to rest.

Once the door shut, he laid me on the bed and leaned down to wipe the sweat from my forehead.

That magma-like heat had completely incinerated my reason. Under normal circumstances, I would've been instantly on guard, but in that moment, looking into his worried eyes so close to mine, I reached up and hooked my arms around his neck.

I wasn't like the others in the canyon who treated men as prey. I'd always maintained perfect clarity, supposedly immune to human flesh. But that night, I was willing.

I knew something was deeply wrong with my body, but I just didn't want to push him away.

Between surges of passion, I stared at Bradley's handsome face with only one thought: If it has to be someone, let it be him.

Consider it one last indulgence before returning to that sunless canyon. Better to give my first time to this strong, healthy body radiating pure fire magic than to those death-reeking, half-dead males back home.

After the passion faded, crushing exhaustion dragged me into deep sleep.

Until sometime past midnight, when deliberately hushed voices pulled me awake.

Bradley. He stood on the inn balcony, gripping a faintly glowing communication crystal.

Barefoot, I crept over silently and hid in the shadows cast by the curtains.

The man who'd been warm as sunlight just hours ago now spoke in a nauseating, boastful tone to whoever was on the other end:

"Just closed the deal. That untouchable ice princess everyone talks about? Couple drops of distilled succubus extract and she was no different from some two-copper whore in the Lower City."

He glanced at his hand with a reminiscent smirk. "Gotta admit though, face and body are absolutely premium. Worth every second."

"...Relax, will you? Her reputation's already torched. Who else would touch damaged goods like that besides me? I'll keep her around till I get bored, then pass her your way. The boys in the club can all take their turn, nice and slow."

I didn't need to hear the rest.

All those idiotic romantic notions about crossing boundaries between species, about refusing to taint the sun—they scattered like ash on the wind in that instant.

I even felt the Medusa scales at the back of my neck heating up with excitement and murderous intent.

I walked calmly back to the bed, gathered a thread of shadow magic at my fingertips, and scrawled a brief message on the parchment I always carried close:

[Found the perfect offering. I'll bring him back for the Full Moon Ceremony.]