Daimon (Guardians of Hades #6) - Felicity Heaton Page 0,70

a hundred moments at him when he had seen in her that she would never abandon her duty.

He wanted her, more than anything, but the thought he might come to know her taste, that he might find the courage to unleash his hunger and this desperate need for her only to lose her in the end, was unbearable. It would be torture far worse than having to endure centuries of loneliness because of his power.

Daimon stared down at the lacerations that covered his legs and chest, that littered his arms. What was she doing to him?

She was the wave. Washing over him to pull him under, letting him break for air only to suck him under again. She was killing him.

Another image of her with a faceless man flashed across his mind.

The darkness within him roared in response, flooding him with a need for violence, to lash out and strike at everything around him. The daemons were dead. There was no one to give him the pain and destruction he craved.

He shoved his hands through his hair and clutched the sides of his head, squeezed it hard as he gritted his teeth.

Tried to purge the darkness he had foolishly allowed to take hold of him.

“Daimon?” Valen’s soft voice reminded him he wasn’t alone.

The darkness turned its sights on his brother.

“Give me a minute,” Daimon growled, hoping Valen would get the hint and leave him, because he didn’t want to hurt his brother.

“Sure.” Valen disappeared with Marek.

Daimon exhaled hard and sucked down another breath, wrestling with the black rage, the hunger and the hurt. He shut out its insidious whispers, refused to obey it and hunt the daemons who lived in Rome, seeking another fix.

Seeking more pain.

He squeezed his eyes shut as the fight at the Rome gate replayed, trying to stop it from happening even when he knew it wasn’t possible. Everything fast-forwarded, rushing past his eyes in a bloody blur, culminating in the dreadful moment he had let the darkness overcome him.

In that moment, he hadn’t cared what the daemons did to him.

He had welcomed it.

He clawed and tugged his white hair back, his scalp stinging as he gritted his teeth and growled through emerging fangs.

This wasn’t him.

He just needed to rest, to recover from his injuries, to find some peace for a moment, and then he could pull himself back together and continue, without surrendering to the need burning inside him.

The need to take hold of Cass and never let her go.

He stepped and didn’t bother to remove his boots, because he was going to leave an unholy mess in the mansion no matter what he did.

Rather than appearing inside, he landed on the walkway that ran around the courtyard.

A mistake.

Cass stood before him by the arched wooden bridge, facing Keras.

The darker side of his blood that had been slowly fading roared back to life at the sight of his brother so close to her.

Keras moved before the need to rip his brother away from her could manifest, distancing himself from the sorceress. His brother glanced at him as he reached the walkway. Daimon glared at him.

And then at Cass.

What had they been doing alone in the garden?

Why did Cass look flushed, her pale blue eyes bright?

Those eyes gained a horrified edge as they landed on him, swiftly followed by concern.

That concern wounded him more deeply than any blade could, cleaving him open, tearing at him. He didn’t want to see such soft emotions in her eyes. Not directed towards him. It hurt too much.

Cass hurried over to him.

Daimon stalked past her, his head turning, vision blurring for a second before the dizziness passed. He held his side, stemming the flow of blood, unsure what to do as gravel crunched beneath his boots. He couldn’t go to his room, even when he craved sleep. The covers of his bed would act as a wick, drawing more blood out of him. He needed to fix his wounds before he could rest, but he was so godsdamned tired.

His thoughts blurred together as he mindlessly walked forwards.

Going somewhere.

He just didn’t know where.

Anywhere was better than here, near Cass.

Only he couldn’t escape her.

She followed hot on his heels, her presence a pain he couldn’t endure, rousing the softer emotions he had tried to banish tonight.

Tried to kill.

“Let me take care of you.” Her voice was soft, sweet, a balm to his aching heart.

Gods, he wanted to give in to her.

He wanted to place himself in her hands and trust it would all