Daimon (Guardians of Hades #6) - Felicity Heaton Page 0,11

“What if he doesn’t?”

He stepped, darkness swirling around him for a heartbeat before he appeared right in front of her. Her breath hitched, her entire body tensing as if she anticipated a strike against her.

As if she believed he would hit her.

A low growl curled from him, birthed by the thought she believed him capable of such a thing.

He drew a steadying breath to calm the raging torrent of his feelings, lifted his right hand and hovered it over the front of her throat. He stared at it, at the smooth, pale column of it that was stark against the black of his gloves.

“You’re playing with ice, koldun’ya,” he whispered low, his gaze transfixed on her throat and the frost forming on his gloves, fascination rolling through him as he felt the warmth of her against his palm despite the gap of air between them. “If you’re not careful, one of these days, you’re going to find out what it’s like to be touched by me.”

She murmured sexily, “Is that a promise?”

His eyes leaped to meet hers, shock rolling through him as he saw in them that she wanted it to be, that she wanted him to touch her. Need flooded him, a fierce hunger that had him close to inching his hand forwards to make contact.

He shut it down.

Backed off.

Disappointment flickered in her eyes.

For some damned reason, it echoed inside him too.

He was disappointed with himself. That was all it was.

He had promised his heart to another, and Cass was just someone the Moirai had sent to test him. She was nothing to him. He didn’t want her. He didn’t need her.

He backed off another step, ignoring the cold abyss that opened inside him as he distanced himself from the sorceress.

This was what he wanted. This distance between them. This coldness.

This was what Penelope would want from him and what he owed the woman he had loved and lost. She deserved his faithfulness. He was devoted to her, and nothing would change that. He didn’t want another female.

He would always be loyal to her.

These needs growing inside him were inconsequential. All that mattered was remaining true to Penelope. He didn’t need a woman.

He didn’t want one.

A growl rose up his throat when an image flickered in his mind, his brother Ares softly touching Megan’s cheek, a wealth of love in his eyes as their skin made contact.

He shut it out.

He didn’t need that.

He didn’t want that.

It was a blessing that his touch was ice, liable to give pain rather than pleasure. It was a blessing.

It was.

His heart was constant. Forever Penelope’s. He was constant.

He was.

Marinda appeared behind Cass, her tropical blue eyes shimmering with tears. “Cal’s awake.”

Cass’s face warmed as she turned to Marinda, her soft rosy lips curling in a smile as her aquamarine eyes brightened with love and happiness.

Gods, she was beautiful.

That thought hit him like a gorgon, striking so hard and fast out of the blue that he actually took a step back to brace himself.

He stared at Cass, reeling, stunned by how she had made him feel with only a smile.

He watched her go inside, too shaken to follow as his mind whirled.

He wasn’t looking for a woman. Penelope was the only woman he would ever love.

But as he stared after Cass, drawn to following her, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was lying to himself.

That he had been lying to himself for years and that was why he constantly felt as if he was drowning.

Cassandra was forcing him to face the truth—that he was lonely and to protect himself from the pain of that loneliness, he had convinced himself that he was being noble, that he still loved Penelope and that being loyal to her was vital to him.

The real reason he was always on edge around Cass, always quick to anger and fast to lash out at her verbally to drive her away, hit him like a thunderbolt.

He wasn’t angry with her because he felt she was trying to destroy his loyalty to Penelope, attempting to steal him from her.

He was angry because he wanted Cass.

He looked down at his gloved hands, lifted them palm up before him and watched the frost flowers blooming across the black leather.

And he couldn’t have her.

Chapter 4

Daimon cringed as Valen hollered an obscenity across the main living room of the house, launching it like a missile at Cal as he flipped him off. He had been pleased when his brothers had regained consciousness, but now he