Daimon: Guardians of Hades Series Book 6

family.
He didn’t want to feel anything. Not anymore. His heart was ice now. No trace of feeling left in it.
It was ice now.
He told himself that as Cass appeared on the porch, drawing his gaze to her. She wiped her hands on a cloth, looking like a bizarre combination of housewife and glamourous jetsetter. Her long black dress that hugged her curves like a second-skin, her polished onyx nails and perfectly preened tumbling waves of her jet hair, were all at odds with the dirty rag she held.
Her aquamarine eyes settled on him. Not piercing, nor probing. Not anything.
But her presence still rankled him.
“What’s your problem?” he snapped, unable to keep the bite out of his voice or stop himself from reacting to her.
She arched a fine black eyebrow at him and tipped her chin up in that haughty way that made him want to snarl at her.
“Good morning to you too,” she said, her tone whisper-soft, her words lashing at him.
He hated it when she did that, responding to him in a civilised manner when he couldn’t bring himself to be the same towards her. He couldn’t help it. He was constantly on his guard around her and it was her fault. She had made it clear more than enough times that she was determined to strip down his walls.
And he had made it clear he was determined she wouldn’t.
So now they were at war, locked in a battle he was going to win.
She lowered the cloth to her side and smoothed her glossy black hair, luring his gaze back to her face. He cursed her.
And then cursed her again when she spoke.
“Aiko made some food for those of us who sleep eludes, and I just wanted to tell you.” She looked down at the rag she held. For a moment, he thought she would leave it at that and leave him alone, but then she lifted her head and locked gazes with him. “You need to eat.”
Those words were stern. Commanding.
Irritating.
“I don’t need to eat.” His stomach grumbled, calling him a liar.
Fine, he did need to eat but he had no appetite.
He stood there, a thousand thoughts and feelings colliding inside him, and the weight on his shoulders felt too heavy to bear.
He was drowning again.
He tried to hold back the tide, looked away from her thinking that was a good place to start, but he ended up staring at the mansion.
The weight on his shoulders dropped right through him, tore a gaping hole inside him as he remembered all the good times, before everything had gone to hell.
He absently lifted his hand and rubbed the aching spot above his heart.
“If you need to talk—”
He cut Cass off with a vicious snarl, baring emerging fangs at her. “If I need to talk, it won’t be you that I’m talking to. I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine.” She took a hard step towards the edge of the porch, her eyes glittering like ice as she narrowed them on him. “I haven’t known you long, but it’s obvious you share a bond with Esher, and with Esher—”
“Esher is coming back,” he cut her off again, that hole inside him filling with acid that scoured his insides, with darkness and pain—and despair. His voice dropped to a whisper, losing all strength as it all crashed over him. “He’ll come back. He has to come back.”
Cass was mercifully silent for a moment.
But then she softly murmured, “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