Keras
Keras is darkness. It sustains him. It strengthens him. It offers relief from the pain born of his feelings for a goddess of Olympus, a bewitching and beautiful female placed beyond his reach—one who stole his heart and broke it. Centuries of enduring that pain have left him tired, and the temptation to surrender control to that side of himself grows each day.
Even when he knows that darkness will destroy him.
Enyo has regrets. Hundreds of them. But the one that has plagued her for centuries, is the moment that shattered her friendship with the firstborn of Hades and her own heart with it—a moment that changed her and set her on a new path. With the battle between the sons of Hades and the daemons turning more dangerous for the man she loves, she can no longer stand on the side lines.
It’s time for this goddess of war to risk everything to fight for what she wants.
As the battle to save the Underworld and the mortal realm rages to dangerous new heights, will Keras be consumed by the darkness or will Enyo be the light that saves him?
THE GUARDIANS OF HADES SERIES
Book 1: Ares
Book 2: Valen
Book 3: Esher
Book 4: Marek
Book 5: Calistos
Book 6: Daimon
Book 7: Keras
Book 8: Thanatos - Coming in 2021
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Chapter 1
A fist ploughed into Keras’s jaw, smashing his lips against his teeth, flooding his mouth with the coppery taste of his own blood.
He leaned to one side and spat on the pale flagstones of the terrace, stared at the splotches of dark liquid that caught the lights that illuminated the white basilica of Sacré-Coeur, casting a golden glow over the façade and its three domes.
A slow grin stretched his lips as the darkness writhed in his veins, jittery with excitement.
Finally, a worthy opponent.
He had cut his way through sixteen daemons, using his shadows to eradicate the wretches, keeping them from the Paris gate that linked the mortal realm to the Underworld. Not one of them had put up a fight.
At least, not a fight he had enjoyed. It had been a massacre, too easy for him, lacking the thrill he was chasing tonight. The high he craved. The pain he needed.
The only thing he wanted to feel.
The only thing he was willing to let himself feel.
The sudden white-hot fire of a well landed blow. The burn that spread outwards from the point of impact. The dull ache of bruised bones. The sharp sting of split flesh. The dance with death. The sweet scent of blood spilling.
His blood. His pain. His pleasure.
Heat rippled through him at just the thought of it, had his head growing hazy as that need bloomed stronger inside him, goading him into clashing hard with the daemons.
Into letting them strike him.
But that pleasure never quite hit the mark. It was always lacking. Always a disappointment in the end when it had promised to be perfection.
This wretched beast that stood before him promised pleasure that would be everything he needed tonight though. Pain that would satisfy the darkness coursing through him.
Behind him, his younger brothers hollered orders at each other, battling the other thirty daemons to keep them from the gate. His senses fixed on them and he checked they were occupied and unlikely to interfere with his fight. He locked them on Ares first, and then Marek and finally Daimon.
It had been a month since Daimon had almost died, and three weeks since his brother had closed the New York gate, condensing the power that flowed between them down to only three—Hong Kong, Paris and Tokyo.
Keras had thought the enemy would make their move then, desperate to breach the gates and fulfil their mission.
Things had remained too quiet.
Until tonight.
Keras casually wiped the knuckles of his right hand across his lower lip, clearing the blood away, and straightened, coming to face the large dark-haired male who had managed to land a blow on him.
The daemon rolled broad shoulders, his heavy muscles rippling with strength as his bare torso flexed. Behind him, two smaller daemons waited, warily watching Keras, an opaque membrane flickering over their eyes. They were of the lizard-like breed, able to summon scales to protect them from damage in a fight.
His gaze edged back to the larger male.
This one was something else.
One of the more demonic breeds his father, Hades, god-king of the Underworld, had banished from his realm centuries ago?
Exiling them to the mortal realm, just as he had banished Keras and his brothers here when the Moirai had foreseen a great calamity involving the gates between the Underworld and the human one.
For two centuries, Keras had been forced to live in this world, waiting for the enemy who would bring about the calamity to finally make themselves known.
Two centuries of hell.
This daemon would pay for every year of his exile, every hour, every minute.
Every second.
Keras rolled the sleeves of his black dress shirt up his forearms as he stared the daemon down, assessing him.
Waiting.
Beyond the towering male who had at least five inches on Keras, had to stand around seven-foot tall, Ares hurled a ball of fire that cut across the night-time panorama of Paris that stretched below the hill of Sacré-Coeur.
It blasted two daemons, sending them flying. Their shrieks rose above the sounds of the battle raging around him.
The male before Keras kicked off and dropped his shoulder, slammed into Keras’s stomach and lifted him off the ground. Keras grinned and reached his right hand down, gripped the back of the fiend’s neck and sank short claws into his flesh. The wretch grunted, the same pained sound bursting from Keras’s lips as his back hit the flagstones and the daemon landed on top of him.
Keras didn’t release him, not even when the male reared back and smashed a fist into his face, hitting him hard enough that he actually felt it.
Instead, Keras called on his shadows.
They poured from beneath him, eager to feed, hungry to join the battle. They were never satisfied.
Neither was he.
The two lizard-like males ran at him, joining the fray as they nimbly dodged his shadows, twirling to evade each sharp slash of them as they lashed at the daemons, keeping them away from the one they had decided to protect.
That male bore down on him, grinning to reveal razor-sharp fangs.
The light of victory in his dark eyes.
Foolish male.
Keras dragged the daemon towards him. The male resisted, straining to maintain his position atop Keras, but it turned out he wasn’t strong enough after all. Keras gritted his teeth, his muscles clamping down on his bones as he yanked the male down to him, so they were nose to nose.
“Who sent you?” he whispered, malice lacing his deep voice as the darker side of his blood writhed faster, eager now, anticipating what was to come.
The daemon managed to shake his head.
Keras sank his claws in deeper, ripping a grimace from the male.