Daimon (Guardians of Hades #6) - Felicity Heaton Page 0,129

it for Nemesis so she could pass into this world and destroy it and his own one?

Melody yanked his head back and poised the blade at his throat.

Ready to cut him the second the gate had fully formed and spill enough blood that it would remain open, causing catastrophic damage to both realms.

Bringing about the calamity the Moirai had foreseen.

He couldn’t let that happen.

He couldn’t fail.

He summoned the last of his strength, focusing on his power as the final ring of the gate expanded, desperately clawing it together for one more attempt to break free of Melody’s hold.

Daimon tried to lift his hand to grab Melody’s, intending to freeze her and force her to release him.

His hand refused to move.

He edged his eyes downwards, stared at his hands where they rested on his lap, drenched in his own blood as it pumped from the wound in his side.

The central purple disc of the gate flashed.

Melody pressed the blade into his throat.

It was over.

Chapter 36

Cassandra’s first instinct was to use her magic to blast Hades and his guards away from her. Probably not a great idea. Her second instinct was to use that same magic to cast a spell that would transport her to Tokyo.

Only when she tried it, nothing happened.

She stared wide-eyed up at the dark god towering over her, despair swift to flood her as she realised there was no escaping him.

It was right there in his cold smile.

In those murderous red eyes.

The bastard knew her magic was useless, which meant he had done something to disable it, or there was something about his realm that stopped it from working.

Hades pressed his bident closer to her throat. She leaned back, tilting her head up further as she swallowed hard, and stared into his eyes as she cast a few prayers to various gods out into the ether just in case one of them was listening.

His lips compressed and twisted into a vicious sneer, his black eyebrows knitting hard above eyes that glowed the colour of blood.

She had thought Keras dark.

Keras looked like a puppy compared to this man.

“A life for a life,” he growled again.

Her life, but for whose?

“You… murdered… my… son,” he gritted, snarling each word, every pause a punctuation that drove them home.

Made her realise whose life he was talking about.

Daimon’s.

“He’s alive.” She went to jerk forwards as those desperate words burst from her lips and froze in time to stop herself from slitting her own throat on the sharp tips of his weapon.

“He died.” Hades pressed forwards and so did his guards.

More than one of their spears nicked her, but she refused to flinch as she faced Hades, refused to show any weakness he could use against her.

“He’s alive,” she bit out, her eyebrows furrowing as she looked up at him. “I swear it.”

“You speak lies, witch.” He loomed over her, the very air around him seeming to darken as his eyes brightened further, blazing with the fires of the Underworld.

With pain.

He truly thought his son was dead.

She wanted to shake her head but couldn’t without cutting herself. “He’s not dead. I brought him back.”

“You killed him.” He lowered the bident and she glanced down, her eyes widening again as she mentally cursed.

Daimon’s blood was on her hands.

“No.” She shook her head now that his weapon was away from her throat, leaned forwards and clasped her hands in front of her, opened them again and held them out to him. “I was bringing him back. Blood magic. I would never hurt Daimon. It killed me when I thought I had lost him.”

His jaw flexed.

He didn’t look as if he believed her.

A delicate pale hand slid over his left shoulder and he stiffened, his scarlet gaze edging towards it. Fingers brushed over the ornate clasps that fixed his red cloak to his shoulders and then drifted lower, skating down his arm.

“The witch speaks true, my love.” The softest female voice Cass had ever heard danced in the air, full of light and warmth, and seriously out of place in the dark realm.

A slender female clad in layers of black that formed a flowing dress over her curves stepped around the god, the smile that curled her lips far from fitting given the dire situation. Her green eyes softened as she lifted her right hand and cupped Hades’s cheek. Around her bare feet, poppies bloomed, the same colour as her scarlet hair.

Hades began to lean into her touch and then pulled away, drawing a frown from the goddess.

“No,”

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