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 work out exactly the way he wanted it to.
But he wasn’t a fool.
“Go away,” he grunted.
She huffed and stepped around him, blocking his path, her eyes glittering with silver stars as they narrowed on him. “I’ve seen you fight and you’re stronger than any daemon. None of them should have been able to deal this much damage to you… unless you let them.”
The last four words leaked from her lips as desperation filled her eyes. They danced between his, seeking an answer, one she wasn’t going to like.
Her brow furrowed and she whispered, “Why would you do that?”
The softness, the concern and the hurt gave way to something far darker when he didn’t answer, just stepped around her and kept trudging forwards.
She appeared in his path again, her face a mask of darkness, accusation in her eyes and anger in her tone.
“Why, Daimon?” She cupped his cheeks with both hands, her touch too warm and soft for him to bear.
It destroyed him.
He took one last look at her and stepped.
Cold wind whipped around him, cutting him to the bone, driving ice into his marrow.
He let it buffet and chill him as he stared at the endless, frigid white that surrounded him.
Let it numb him.
He wanted to laugh at that.
He had been numb for centuries.
Now, he wanted to feel, and he was too afraid to do it.
He was too afraid of where it might lead.
He was too afraid that if he dared to love again, he might lose Cass too.
Chapter 20
Darkness surrounded him, black lands as far as the eye could see. A valley rimmed with mountains stretched below him, spotted with clusters of golden lights that shone like dull stars in the night.
Esher grinned, felt the thick mixture of daemon blood and dirt of the Underworld on the left side of his face crack.
It was old now, dried and flaking.
Blood from the wretch he was hunting.
Taken the first time Esher had caught up with him shortly after he had dared to enter the Underworld.
He absently lifted his hand and touched the war paint, pleasure humming in his veins as his fingers traversed the rough spine of it that streaked over his left eye, covering that side of his face from his hair to his jaw.
The odour of foul daemon blood filled his nostrils, rousing the hunger, keeping it as sharp as a blade.
Fresh blood.
The darkness bayed for more.
And he howled with that need too.
He shuddered as he stared down into the
