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Four out of the six girls voted for the death demigod as the sexiest and most mysterious hunk, but he was utterly unattainable, which made him even more sought-after.
Suddenly, their talk piqued my interest.
Paxton had said he and Héctor would unite against me. I needed to know more about my enemies, especially the one I hadn’t met.
“Why is he unattainable?” I asked.
“You don’t know anything about the demigods’ world, do you?” Neha, another first-year, asked. “Which rock have you been living under?”
“My own rock?” I said.
“Good thing you’ve finally crawled out from under it,” Neha snorted.
“I was forced out,” I said. “I was quite comfortable living under the rocks, you know.”
“You’re hopeless,” she said. “Why was I even talking to you?”
“You’re still talking,” I said.
“Yeah, just a warning: watch where you’re going,” she said.
It wasn’t news that the new students were often treated as punching bags.
Though most of the girls in this dormitory were also first-years, they were ahead of Yelena and me. They held to the military tradition that they had every right to treat the newbies however they saw fit. I’d already seen a new initiate get kicked in the head when an upperclassman was in a foul mood.
I vowed secretly that if anyone came at either Yelena or me, they’d learn that harassing us was more trouble than it was worth.
“No one can stand Demigod Héctor’s touch,” Yelena said, coming to my rescue again. It was evident that I was the only one who lived under a rock coated with so much ignorant moss. “Whomever he touches dies instantly.”
“I hope I can have the same ability,” I said longingly, thinking of all the enemies I had. “I want to be in his house.”
“Héctor is very lonely,” Neha said, as if she personally knew him. “I feel so bad for him. All his sexiness gets wasted like that.”
So the Demigod of Death ranked number one in the Academy libidos because of his lethal touch combined with his natural damn sex appeal and, of course, perfect male torso.
I wasn’t surprised that the girls voted Axel as number two, but I was astonished to find out he was actually a fourth year student in Half-Blood Academy.
He was a demigod, so he didn’t obey any of the rules. He skipped most of his classes and only popped in every now and then to poke fun of the professors or cause some trouble for everyone. Otherwise he was in the war zone with his father or, according to gossip, making time with his pick of the women on campus.
Goddamnit, the Demigod of War wasn’t much older than me, and I’d thought he was ancient, like the other demigods.
Next time he pissed me off, I’d tell him he ranked as the least hot demigod in the Academy because of his baby face. I bet it’d leave a big bruise on his oversized ego.
The number three crown went to Paxton, who was mostly feared.
“Getting on his bad side is like having a death mark branded on your forehead,” Jessica, another first-year, whispered with a shiver. “But he’s so hot. I could just watch his rippling muscles move all day long. Last time when he strode toward me with those powerful legs, I almost passed out at the sight of him.”
Poor Zak was listed as number four, probably because he kept the most distance from the recruits and was way too serious. He never smiled.
According to my bunkmates, he was eons old and the most powerful of the demigods. He was one of the first-born demigods and had just returned to Earth a century ago when the gods’ war with the demons summoned him here.
With a life that long, who wouldn’t grow apathetic? I kind of felt sorry for him. Immortality could be a curse.
Paxton had been born when the war between Lucifer and Ares had just started. He was basically the product of war. No wonder he was the nastiest of them all. There was probably nothing but violence surrounding him when he grew up, which definitely would shape his worldview and personality.
So,thiswas academy life?
During daytime, we attended classes and beat the shit out of each other; at night, the girls gossiped about hot boys—practically drooling over them, especially the demigods—without any filter.
