Savitar glanced around to the rest of the Omegrion members. “For the sake of brevity, I’m assuming the rest of you concur. Is there anyone who objects?”
Dante Pontis, the Katagaria panther Regis, held his hand up. With long dark hair he wore in a ponytail, he was the epitome of a disgruntled predator. “I’m not protesting, but I have a question.” He turned toward Maxis. “Why were you marked originally?”
Max shrugged with a nonchalance he really didn’t feel. “I’m an asshole.”
Dante grinned. “While, as a fellow asshole myself, I can respect that, care to elaborate?”
“The council mood back then was a lot different. They were still raw and pissed off from being held in a cage and experimented on. They’d just been told about the curse the Fates had handed down, that we couldn’t choose our mates. They’d be assigned to us, whether we wanted them or not, and that the Fates had decreed eternal war between our species.”
And human rationale was new to the animals, Illarion inserted. They were angry and lashing out at everyone, especially my brother and I.
Max nodded. “When they started to attack me, I reacted as any drakomas would. I told them to fuck themselves and attacked back.”
Savitar snorted disdainfully. “Talk about putting lipstick on a pig.… You are allowed to say that you reacted badly.”
“All right, I reacted badly.”
“Yeah, that’s an exaggeration,” Savitar said under his breath.
Max feigned indignation. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. It’s been a million years since I last exaggerated about anything.”
Savitar rolled his eyes.
“Anyway,” Max continued. “I lost my temper over their accusations and…” He pointed up at the ceiling. “You can still see some of the marks where the fighting broke out and we almost burned down the building.”
“That’s where I reacted badly.” Savitar flashed a fake smile. “As a result, Max was condemned and I was in no mood to refute or acquit their unanimous decision. We all had a very bad day.”
“And I’ve had a few more,” Max whispered loudly.
“Yeah. Sorry about that.” Savitar crossed his arms over his chest.
“Wow,” Dante said in a sarcastic tone. “Sounds like the mood I was in when I mounted my brother’s hide to the wall of my club.”
Savitar nodded. “Basically … So, we are all in accord?”
“Yes.” Fury flashed a devilish grin. “Dare is an asshole and nobody likes him, at all.”
Dare started for him.
Fury bared his teeth. “Bring it, you little punk bastard! Let’s go! C’mon, you and me. Here and now! I’m ready to pick your fur out of my teeth! C’mon!”
Vane caught Fury and pushed him back toward Max. “Did you by chance bring a leash? Or a muzzle?”
“No, but I’m thinking I should have.”
Just as Dare broke loose to run at Fury, who was still taunting him and questioning his parentage, a bright flash lit the room, causing him to pull up short. All movement stopped as Cadegan and Thorn appeared near Savitar. Both bleeding and in bad physical shape. Barely alive they lay in a tangled heap at Savitar’s feet.
Thorn had his arms around Cadegan as if he’d barely gotten them out of a nasty situation right before they’d been torn apart. The paleness of his bruised features added further testimony to that assumption.
Stunned, Max didn’t move. As the sons of a powerful demon, they were both seasoned warriors and had once been medieval knights. Thorn was actually even older than that and had been born an ancient warlord, and had thousands of years of heavy combat experience against the damned and cruel.
One thing those two knew how to do …
Fight. Especially anything fanged, clawed, winged, and preternatural.
His breathing ragged, Thorn cupped Cadegan’s face in a strangely tender gesture. “You still with me, little brother?”
“Ach, aye, boyo, but only because me Jo would kick me arse if I came home dead to her.”
Analise Romano, who was the Arcadian Regis for the snow leopards and a doctor, rushed from her seat to Cadegan to check on him.
Thorn carefully ceded his brother’s care over to her before he stood and wiped the blood from his lips. He looked first to Fang, then Savitar. “Remember that situation I mentioned?”
“Blew up a bit?” Savitar asked sarcastically.
“Like your temper on Olympus during a full moon party. Needless to say, we have a massive problem. And our names are engraved all over that apple of fun.” Thorn moved to drape one arm over Styxx’s shoulder and the other over Acheron’s. “Checked on Mom lately?”
Acheron visibly cringed. “Ah God, what’s she done now?”
“Well,” Thorn tightened his arm around both their necks, “I’ve just got to know … whose bright idea was it to surrender Apollo’s custody to her?”
Styxx made the same grimace Acheron had worn a moment ago. “That idiot would be me. Why? What did I do?”
Thorn released Acheron to playfully slap Styxx on the face and squish his cheeks together. “Mama Apollymi found him a new playmate,” he said in the same falsetto people used when talking to small children. “She fed his ass to Kessar, and aren’t we happy he has a new friend, boys and girls?”
“Oh dear gods.” Zakar repeated Acheron’s words and stumbled back. “Please tell me she didn’t.”
With a sarcastic, hysterical laugh, Thorn released Styxx, stepped back, and clapped his hands together. “No, wait! It gets so much better! You haven’t even heard the good part yet. No! Yeah … she decided it would be a great idea to turn Apollo into a blood-bitch like you were, Z. Yes … yes, she did.”
Groaning, Zakar covered his face.
Thorn nodded and clapped the Sumerian god on the back. “At least you see the train wreck coming.”
Acheron glared at him. “Enlighten those of us who don’t.”
Thorn stepped away to continue. “Long story short, Kessar fed from the god, and they made a pact to combine their fun-loving natures and kind spirits. As a result, Apollo attacked Olympus.”
“No.” Acheron shook his head. “I was there. That was Kessar who attacked Olympus.”
“No, punkin.’ That was Apollo leading those demons. It’s how they got in. Three guesses what he wanted. And world peace is definitely not one of them.”
“Revenge.”
Thorn shook his head at Dante and made a sarcastic buzzer sound. “Too easy, and a given. Guess again.”
Sick to his stomach, Max exchanged a panicked stare with Illarion.
Thorn applauded. “Oh look, I think the dragons got it. And why shouldn’t they? Illarion, being the son of Ares, ought to know exactly what he wants.”
He’s after the Spartoi.
“Yes. Yes, he is.”
Fury scowled. “What’s the Spartoi? Is that like a plastic model of the 300 characters? Gods, someone, please tell me that it’s an action figure and not what I fear it might be.…”
Seraphina grimaced. “No. It’s your fear, I’m sure. They’re a rather nasty and invincible branch of Ares’s army. It’s said that when a Drakone of Ares sows them into the earth, they sprout full-grown, ready to battle and destroy at the command of whoever planted them.”
“And guess who has custody of those little darlings right now?” Thorn pointed to Illarion. “How do I know this? Your father squealed like a thirteen-year-old girl at a Shawn Mendes sighting.”
“Aye, he did indeed,” Cadegan agreed as he rose on shaky legs, holding his ribs. “For a god of war, Ares is a bit of a wanker. He ain’t no Aeron, that’s for sure.”
“And speaking of our favorite Celtic war god, he’s still fighting them and I need to get back and help before they make a gallu of him and we all go down in a ball of sarcastic Aeron fire. They convert him and I’m out. I don’t want no part of that fight. Ever.” Thorn glanced at Savitar. “Yes, I am that big a coward, for I have fought the evil that is Aeron, had my ass handed to me on a p
latter with applesauce and garnishings, and yeah … no, thank you. Nothing is worth an ass-kicking that severe.”
Max stepped forward. “We’ll settle this with you.”
“We?”
“The drakomai.”
Sera nodded. “And the Drakos.”
Wide-eyed and furious, Max gaped. She passed a chiding smile at him. “Don’t give me that look, Lord Dragon. I don’t want you fighting, either.”
Edena and Hadyn moved forward to join them.
“Oh hell no!” Max snapped. “I might not have a say in what Sera does, but you two I do!”
When they started to protest, Seraphina shook her head. “Your father’s right. Neither of you is ready for this. And if you roll those eyes at me, young lady, I’ll ground you till the sun explodes, and your brother, too, just because he taught you to do it when you were little.”
Edena huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. “I liked it better when they didn’t talk or get along.”
Hadyn nodded his agreement, but wisely remained silent.
As Thorn moved back to leave, four Were-Hunters fell to the floor for no reason.
Dead.
Silence echoed as everyone knew exactly what it meant. Those were bonded mates whose spouses had been killed somewhere else. Three council members and one of the Arcadian wolves who’d come in with Star and Dare. For that to happen simultaneously, there was only one cause.
War.
“What the fuck?” Dante breathed.
Thorn and Savitar went pale.
As did Acheron. “They’re dividing and attacking our families to thin our defenses and hit our morale.”
“It’s working,” Fury said in a panicked tone.
Savitar motioned for Zakar, Sin, and Styxx. “We’ll see to Apollymi in Kalosis and make sure she’s secure.”
Thorn jerked his chin at the Peltiers and the Kattalakis brothers. “We’ll take Sanctuary. Sera, you better join us. Nala’s with them. I can feel it.”
Cadegan and Blaise exchanged a determined look. “We’ll stay here to guard your young. No fears there for you.”
Acheron looked to the drakomai. “We’ll return to Olympus, and finish it. Once and for all.”
Illarion and Max nodded.
Seraphina hesitated. Strange, she’d never minded riding into battle alone.
Now she did. The last thing she wanted was to be without Max by her side. But this they had to do for each other and for their people.
“Remember, Maxis,” Sera reminded him. “There is no I in team.”
He winked at her. “True, but there is in ‘win,’ ‘fight,’ and ‘die.’”
She growled at him, tempted to beat him into submission. “And you’d best not do the latter.”
“Or you. Don’t make me go to Hades and beat that bastard down to get you back.” Kissing her, he took a moment to savor her scent and the sensation of her body pressing against his. “I love you, Seramia. Don’t break my heart.”
She sank her hand deep in his long hair and clenched her fist. “For you alone, I breathe.”
Max ground his teeth at those words. For her people, they were the deepest avowal of love, and it made it almost impossible to leave her.
But he had no choice. With one last kiss, he glanced past her to their children. “Don’t forget your sword, my lady dragon.”
She winked at him. “Never.”
Inclining his head, he turned and joined Acheron and his brothers. It’d been centuries since he’d gone to real war with Falcyn and Illarion. Yet it seemed like no time at all as they changed forms and fell into formation.
As eldest, Falcyn took lead. The Katagaria Drakos came to fight with them on Olympus while the Arcadians went with Sera and the others to protect Sanctuary.
By the time they arrived, it was much different than earlier. Apollo and Kessar had virtually torched every building, and most of the gods had withdrawn from the conflict. Only a brave handful remained to try and salvage what they could. Demon and his twin, Phobos. Most of the Dream-Hunters, including Arik and Delphine, as well as Lydia, Solin, and Xypher, who must have been summoned by the others when the fighting started.
Only Apollo’s temple remained standing perfectly intact. But that wasn’t their target or destination.
Ares’s temple was what drew their attention. The iron structure had the front doors ripped open. And the perches that were usually manned by Insidia and Nefas stood empty. Bodies of demons smoldered on the steps.
It was easy to find where the Malachai was still embroiled in a bitter fight against the demons and Apollo.
Max smiled at the sight. Nick had always been stubborn in a brawl. That boy never knew when to give up or surrender. It was one of the things he liked best about the kid, and it was what had kept Nick from turning evil.
So far.
Even though Nick had been born cursed and destined to be one of the creatures who ultimately destroyed the earth, he battled an inner war every day to keep himself from crossing over and becoming what his father had been.
Cherise Gautier would be proud of her son. Especially to see him getting his Cajun ass kicked in defense of a pantheon that didn’t care about him. But the ones Nick cared about were bound to Olympus, and to save them, he fought on against overwhelming odds.
Yeah, he was still a good kid.
As they circled, Max caught sight of Illarion and saw the grief in his brother’s eyes. Unlike him and Falcyn, Illarion had been born and trained to fight as a team. Every time his brother went into war without his Edilyn, he felt her loss with every part of his being.
And the fact that Illarion would ride for Sera’s defense meant everything to Max. It was his brother’s unselfishness that he treasured most.
In every garden grows one single rose so perfect that once the frost takes it, no other can ever grow there again. My rose is and will ever be my Edilyn. And I shall never stop mourning her.
Those were the words Illarion had tattooed on his arm with a rose for his fallen wife.
Whenever he was alone, Illarion would idly caress the words as if he touched his wife. She had left a part of him shattered that Max wasn’t sure would ever be whole again.
If I could have one wish, it would be to take away your pain, brother.
But the Fates had never been kind to dragons.
“Incoming!”
Max moved to engage the winged demons first, in an effort to protect his brothers. Illarion and Falcyn stayed at his back, covering his flank.
Sin had been right. The gallu were vicious in their skills.
“Don’t let them scratch you!” Acheron warned, unaware of the fact that they were immune.
Max spewed fire and swept the ground, razing as much of it as he could. He and his brothers fell in beside Zarek and Jericho while they tried to route a group of demons out of the Hall of the Gods. It took a while, but they eventually had them on the run, headed up the hill toward Apollo’s temple.
Winged himself, Jericho shot up between the dragons. “Thanks for the assist.”
Falcyn inclined his head to him. “What are they after?”
“Apollo showed up, telling Zeus to abdicate. You know how that went. Even though he’s just a figurehead these days, Zeus tossed a few lightning bolts at him and it was on.”
Zarek grabbed a demon that tried to bite him and slung it so hard, it flew up and almost hit Max.
“Hey!”
“Duck,” Zarek said, a little late.
Max flipped the surly god off.
For once, Zarek ignored the insult as he headed off after another group. At least someone enjoyed the fighting.
A weird flash distracted Max as he started to turn. He glanced over his shoulder to see Illarion losing altitude. Afraid something was wrong or that Illarion had been wounded, he went after his brother.
Without a word, Illarion tucked his wings and landed near his father’s temple.
“Is something wrong?”
Do you hear
that?
“Hear what?” Only the sounds of the battle filled his ears. That and the fierce beating of his racing heart.
Illarion cocked his head. It’s Cercamon.
“Who?”
A twelfth-century troubadour. Edilyn was forever making me take her to see him play.
Max heard it then. Light and subtle. Barely audible and yet distinct.
Bel m’es quant ilh m’enfolhetis
E∙m fai badar e∙n vau muzan!
De leis m’es bel si m’escarnis
O∙m gaba dereir’o denan,
Qu’apres lo mal me venra bes
Be leu, s’a lieys ven a plazer.
What the hell? Why would that be playing in the background? It seemed a strange choice for a Greek god of war.
Metallica, Pantera … that would make sense. Death metal, definitely. But medieval love poetry?
Nah, it just didn’t fit.
Illarion turned human so that he could sneak inside for a peek. Max followed suit only to find that it wasn’t Ares who was playing and singing in the middle of battle.
It was Apollo. Which kind of made sense, he supposed, since Apollo was the god of music and poetry, and rather passive. Sure, why not? Him and Nero. Fiddling while Rome, or in this case, Olympus burned.
The god probably needed the light from the fires to read with his old eyes.
As if sensing their presence, Apollo stopped playing and narrowed his gaze angrily on the shadows that concealed them. “Little dragons, all in a row. Tell the big Greek god, how deep is your sorrow flow?”
A chill went down Max’s spine. He grabbed Illarion’s arm and tried to pull him back, but his brother wouldn’t obey. It was as if he was being drawn forward by some unseen, mystical force. Like the music lured him against his will.
Apollo rose to his feet, while he continued to pluck at his lyre. “I know you’re there, son of Ares. I can feel you. Come and give your uncle a hug … sing with me.”
Illarion actually took a step forward.
Max sank his claws into his brother’s arm, hoping the pain might get through to him since nothing else was working, and shook his head no. It’s a trick!
Pressing his lips together, Illarion finally hesitated.
“Ahh,” Apollo said in a petulant tone. He plucked a sour note. “Don’t you trust me? You do know that’s why Dagon chose you for his experiments all those centuries ago, don’t you? Because you were my nephew, he thought to use you to spare the Apollites my curse. He knew my love for you, as your uncle, would sway my mercy. It’s why I begged Zeus and the Fates to spare you from the slaughter.”
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