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Chapter 1

  The old saying—The things you run from are inside you—had never felt more fitting for Medea Ulthar’s situation.

  Well, almost.

  The ghastly crunch of bone and the wet rip of tearing flesh echoed through the narrow New York City alleyway. Medea swallowed another mouthful of rich, savory meat, then paused at the monster’s corpse to drink in the sight of her handiwork. Bloodless, pallid flesh stretched across its lifeless form. A single dilated black eye stared up at her in frozen terror.

  The cyclops had considered itself superior. It had been humbled.

  Such clashes between monsters were not uncommon—expected, even. Medea had learned to keep her aura hidden to avoid drawing attention. Unfortunately, this had the side effect of making her appear like easy prey to the ignorant and unworthy.

  She unscrewed a water bottle, splashed her face clean of gore, and turned her eyes skyward with a smile full of teeth like sharpened stakes. Her tail swished with visible glee.

  “Another day in this glorious world.” She stretched until her shoulders gave a satisfying pop.

  Brushing her deep pink hair from her eyes, Medea considered where to go next. Life as a demi-god had never been particularly difficult for her—unlike for her siblings. From the moment they awakened to their divine origins, monsters had hunted them. Often, she’d learned to her horror, this awakening came in childhood.

  So what made her different?

  She was strong—too strong. Her first battle had been against a drakon: a hulking, serpentine beast with two muscular arms and a lower body like a coiling python. It had seen itself as the apex predator—until it wasn’t.

  It had also tasted delicious.

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  Today marked twenty years since she’d first awakened in this strange world, reborn from the one she left behind. That other world had been similar in many ways—except it lacked magic, monsters, and gods. Confusion had ruled those early days. One moment she was dying; the next, she had a cat’s tail and fuzzy ears sprouting from her head.

  But she adapted.

  The Mist cloaked the truth from mortal eyes. Only the clear-sighted could glimpse the magic beneath the mundane. Monsters roamed in daylight, and the inexplicable was blamed on gas leaks or hallucinations. A child eaten by a chimera? Feral dogs. A lamia snapped someone in half? Must’ve been drugs.

  Creatures hunted humans whenever hunger struck. Gods killed or bred on whims. Spirits, witches, and wandering fae might ruin a mortal’s life over something as trivial as a glance.

  In simpler terms, this new world was a grimdark mess.

  Humans were food.

  Lost in these grim reflections, Medea boarded the train to Long Island. A kind gentleman shifted aside and offered her his seat. She gave a gracious smile in return, then sat, resting her hand against the comforting weight of the sword at her hip.

  After her detour in Vegas, she’d caught wind of a rumored safe haven for half-bloods in New York State. At first, the idea held no appeal. A sanctuary? For her? Monsters with two brain cells usually fled the moment they caught sight of her vivid pink hair. Among their kind, it was well known—her blade delivered true death, just as divine weapons were meant to do. There was a reason undying monsters feared the gods, even if she wasn’t one of them.

  When the train reached the station, she caught her reflection in the screen of the sliding doors. A heart-shaped face, long pink hair, and fuchsia eyes stared back at her. Her hoodie hung loose down to her waist, revealing a strip of thigh where her purple shorts met her white stockings.

  With a hiss, the doors opened. Her white sneakers squeaked against the clean tile as she stepped off.

  She moved through the bustling crowd with feline grace. One fool, entranced by her celestial beauty, reached for the sun, and her tail lashed out like a whip—his wrist snapped with an audible crack.

  “Shit!” he shouted, crumpling to his knees in agony.

  She didn’t spare him a second glance.

  Outside, the salty tang of ocean breeze greeted her. She breathed deep and smiled.

  “Stand ready for my arrival, worms!” she laughed.

  It was time the mythical world learned her name.

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