it had nothing to do with Poseidon.
Axel picked me up again. Before I could lodge a protest, he’d carried me to his throne and put me down on it. Shock stilled my tongue. Even though no one was attending the demigods’ court now to see it, it felt like Axel was sharing his power with me—or at least regarded me as his equal, which, as far as I knew, a demigod had never done before.
Or maybe it was just Axel’s way of apologizing to me.
I blinked in confusion, bracing for the other demigods to object to me being on one of the thrones, but none of them seemed the least concerned.
Oh, Theodore looked a bit taken aback at where I was, but he didn’t issue an opinion. He probably wouldn’t want to draw fire from the Demigod of War.
“Cookie,” Axel said, his tone cajoling.
I frowned at him for giving me the nickname Cookie, even if I liked cookies a bit too much. Who wouldn’t? Especially macaroons, which were an absolutely sinful indulgence.
Zak arched an eyebrow at the name. Paxton snorted through his snooty nose as if to say he regarded me as anything but a sweet, delicious Cookie.
Axel smiled at me disarmingly, but I didn’t buy it.
“We need to see the symbols on you to know which house you belong to,” Axel said.
I didn’t want any of them to see, but it was inevitable. They had to know my bloodline.
I shrugged off his trench coat. My robe was in tatters.
I gazed down at the space between my left shoulder blade and left breast, but I didn’t spot any symbols.
“There’s nothing,” I said in shock.
“There’s nothing on her skin,” Theodore echoed his surprise.
“But we saw all twelve runes imprint when the flame burned her,” Zak said. “Maybe the symbols settled somewhere else on her person.”
On a place where the sun didn’t shine? I nearly snickered.
Of course, they would demand to examine my body to search for a symbol, any symbol, and I couldn’t fend off all of them if they were really determined. Besides, I wanted to know if there was any foreign mark on my body, too.
I pulled the scraps of the robe down to my waist, and all three demigods stared at my breasts point blank instead of looking for the symbol they were supposed to find.
They hadn’t even glanced at other female initiates’ breasts when they showed theirs—okay, except Demetra’s perfect ones.
I glared at them. “Not like I have three tits, guys.”
A hand moved toward my breast, and to my surprise, it belonged to Saint Theodore.
“Fuck off, Theodore,” Axel snarled, shoving the saint away. “Who gave you permission to touch Marigold?”
Both Zak and Paxton growled at the priest threateningly as well.
Theodore stumbled back and raised his hands in a gesture of yielding.
“I don’t share the same interest that you have in Marigold,” he protested. “There isn’t a burn mark on her skin. Not even a blister, despite how hard the flame ravaged her. I just want to touch her skin to make sure what I see is real.”
“You’re lucky we even let you look,” Axel grated.
I quickly glanced down at my skin. It was golden, tanned, and as smooth as silk.
“Like the view, gentlemen?” I snickered as I noticed that their eyes still glued to my breasts. “Are you going to keep staring at my breasts or start helping me look for any hidden symbols?”
Axel chuckled. “My Cookie.”
The demigods tore their eyes from my breasts and started examining the rest of my body with grumpy attitudes.
“This kitten doesn’t know when to keep her mouth shut,” Paxton said as he moved behind me to check my back. “We’ll have to tame her first if we want to make her ours.”
What? Tame me? Theirs?
Had he meant that they would share me and make me their plaything? That would happen when Hell froze.
“I’m not yours,” I said.
“Not yet,” Zak said positively.
“You’re certainly welcome to try,” I said. “Your fantasy will come true when the sun truly shines out of your asses.”
Axel laughed like he didn’t believe I was serious.
Would I want to be funny after I’d just been burned? The demigods could be really apathetic and self-centered, even the young Demigod of War. I bet those qualities were their gods’ family traits.
If I were ever up to the job, I might just be the woman who could teach all of them a lesson.
Zak shook his head, but didn’t say anything more.
Paxton, however, wasn’t even slightly amused at my rude analogy. “Is