Descendants Academy: Young Adult Urban Fantasy Belle Malory (highly recommended books .txt) 📖

as ten men, a graptor was like an agile rhinoceros but with five horns, two on their head and three on their snout. They moved swift, like leopards, and had a reputation for being one of the deadliest monsters known to mages and mankind. Once they attacked, their prey was as good as dead.

Xander was out of his freaking mind.

I turned to find Ione, catching her reaction just after someone else handed her a program. Unlike myself, she kept her cool. She calmly left her friends. Except for the heightened color in her cheeks, no one would know she was upset. I jumped up to follow after her.

Ione took the stairs down into the pits, two at a time, beating me by a few seconds to the gate. I heard her arguing with the same two guys who wouldn’t let me enter the field—Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum.

Ione didn’t even have to raise her voice to sound menacing. “Get out of my way, Marcus, or I swear to Zeus, I will turn your prickly dick to flaccid gelatin for the rest of your miserable life.”

Tweedle Dee’s brows shot up, and real fear flashed in his eyes. He immediately let Ione pass. I was quick to keep up. “I’m with her,” I mumbled, ducking into the pit. But Marcus wasn’t paying any attention. He was busy looking down at his crotch, his forehead crinkled with worry.

If I wasn’t so concerned with Xander, I would have busted out laughing. Guess Aphrodite students weren’t such weaklings after all.

All of the gladiators waited in the pit for their turn on the field. Xander wasn’t hard to find. He was practicing at sword play with the same friend I’d seen him with on the ferry on my first day in Mythos.

Ione walked straight into the middle of their fight, grabbed Xander’s arm, then steered him back out into the tunnel for some privacy. I followed along, of course, assuming that privacy didn’t include me. Not that it would have stopped me if it did.

“A graptor, Xander, really?”

Xander rubbed the back of his neck and let out a long sigh, no patience for this conversation. I blinked once, trying not to notice how handsome he looked in his armor. All of the shiny metal plates gleamed as if they were protecting an actual god.

As I stepped closer, Xander looked up and his jaw tightened. He suddenly went from impatient—to angry and impatient. He turned back to his sister. “It’s not your decision, Ione. Go back to your seat.”

“What if you die?” I said, my voice breaking in the middle.

He stared straight through me. “I guess that’s a risk I’ll have to take.”

I wasn’t surprised he threw my own words back at me. This whole thing, the contest, him choosing a graptor, felt like cruel and unusual punishment.

“You’re being a hypocrite,” I shot out, trying to hold back my tears. No way could I let him see me cry right now. “It’s not fair of you to worry about my safety, and then go out and risk your own.”

“You can’t hit me with double standards, damsel.” His face didn’t even crack as he spoke. “Fair or not, it is what it is.”

He turned to go, but Ione stopped him, her tone pleading. “Xan, please choose another monster…” She shrugged, looking lost for words. “You’re all I have left in the world.”

Xander let out another sigh, this one slightly more tolerant. “Ares is my chosen house, Ione,” he said, gently placing his hand on her shoulder. “Combat is something I enjoy doing, and I’m good at it. Have faith.”

With that said, he stepped around her and walked back into the pit. Over his shoulder, he told Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum if they allowed us to pass again, they would lose more than just their dicks. The bastard knew his sister too well.

Ione huffed, turned on her heel, and stormed back up the stairs.

I stood there, silently simmering. If Xander wanted to get back at me, he succeeded. Now I understood how helpless he felt when I refused to let him control my own safety. The tables were officially turned, and I didn’t like it one bit. There was nothing I could do but accept it. If he wanted to go off and do this stupid thing, just fine. Let him be the idiot who got himself killed. I refused to care.

I drummed my fingers against the arm of my chair while Ione fidgeted nervously beside me. “You should have let me go alone,” she muttered, twisting her rings. “He’s happy to do anything you dislike.”

“You think so?” I snapped, with a little too much attitude. “Maybe I should have told him to fight more monsters—hell, why not a dragon too, while he’s at it?”

“No one appreciates your sarcasm, Sheridan.” She sniffed and gave me the side eye. “Least of all me.”

I couldn’t help it though. My nerves were grating on me just as much as hers were. She was impatient, and I was sarcastic—this was just how we operated under stressful circumstances.

Peter Hallas made the mistake of asking Ione to toss the flowers during the opening ceremony. It began in a nice enough fashion; competitors flew around the arena on Pegasus descendants while their names were chanted across the stands. Ione was supposed to throw each of them a flower, with grace and beauty, of course. Peter handed her a bouquet of artfully arranged peonies. She, in turn, stomped to the balcony, chucked them over the edge, then stomped back to her seat again. The flowers landed in a pile of petals and leaves, like thrown out garbage.

I couldn’t help the chuckle from building up in my throat, but I was pretty sure I was the only one who found it funny. The rest of the box turned into a sea of disturbed faces. When Peter asked Ione what was wrong, she told him to get lost.

I silently mouthed, “Look at the program.”

He nodded in