Keras: Guardians of Hades Series Book 7

by Heaton, Felicity

  Had an ache forming behind his breast for some reason, a yearning for that comforting cool touch that had been with him.

  Enyo.

  He focused on that band, his entire body relaxing into the damp bedding as he felt the power in it, soothing the raging beast of his.

  Taming it.

  He sighed.

  His stomach cramped and he clutched it with his other hand, waiting for the need to vomit to hit him again, sure it was a result of the massive come down he was on. Only it growled again and when he drew a breath in the hope of calming it and stopping himself from retching, he smelled food. Not sickness then. Hunger.

  Keras gathered his strength again and grunted as he tried to push himself up, as his arm gave out beneath him and he sank back onto the bedding. He took stock of his condition and his surroundings as he waited for a wave of nausea to pass, as his rebellious body shook again and sweat beaded on his brow.

  Not good.

  He grimaced at the buckets that were set in a neat line to his left.

  Payback.

  Enyo had hated him seeing her in the throes of shaking her addiction to ambrosia. Now she had witnessed him going through the same, and he didn’t want to think about how many times he might have vomited in front of her, or the things he might have said in the grip of delirium.

  He was soul-deep aware he had said things though.

  He managed to lift his arm and draped it across his eyes, shutting the world out and praying that she didn’t think less of him. His stomach cramped again, heat shooting through his veins in response. Not hunger this time. He denied the rampant need that filled him, fighting the urge to reach for his trousers, to seek the box that would erase the feelings that were flooding him.

  His other hand dropped to his hip anyway.

  Revealing something.

  Not only was he lying on his bed in Tokyo, the sheets drenched with sweat and buckets waiting beside him.

  He was naked too.

  His face twisted as he screwed his eyes shut. Could his life get any worse?

  It wasn’t quite the way he had imagined Enyo seeing him naked for the first time, and gods he hoped that he had managed to keep the covers on his lower half at least, had spared them both the embarrassment of him flashing himself.

  He pulled down a deep breath.

  Stilled as he caught Enyo’s scent of lilac.

  It filled his lungs, spread through him like a balm to soothe the raging fire, cooling his blood. He could not only smell her in the room, but he could feel her too. She hadn’t been gone long.

  He let his arm fall from his eyes. It landed to rest above his head on the pillow, and he looked around the room again. Where had she gone? He burned for a different reason now, with a need to see her and see that she was all right.

  The fight was coming back to him in pieces he stitched together, memories that churned his stomach and strengthened that need to see her as he recalled how he had hurt her.

  How close he had come to killing her.

  Gods. If she hated him now, he would deserve it, would accept it as punishment for what he had done.

  She had goaded him into fighting, and he could see now that she had done it to help him, to force him to feel something even if it was something negative. She had provoked his emotions, and she had looked desperate for it to work.

  It had worked, but the cost had been high.

  The thought that he might have lost her was a driving force, gave him the strength to push the covers aside and struggle into an upright position, because he needed to see her. He had to see he hadn’t messed everything up just as it had looked as if things between them were going to work out the way he had always wanted.

  Keras grimaced as pain shot through his body, fumbled for the bucket as bile blazed up his throat and stilled, waiting to see what path his body was going to choose. Vomit, or not.

  When his body mercifully chose the second option, he released the bucket and carefully manoeuvred onto his front. He crawled for a few steps, not trusting his legs, but the progress was slow and infuriating, and he pushed onto his feet.

  Regretted it when he ended up stumbling forwards, hitting the wall by the chair near his dresser, and slid down it to land on his backside. He flinched at the roughness of the tatami mats against his bare flesh.

  Still, it could have been worse.

  When the mansion had been built, the walls between the bedrooms had been constructed of more traditional shoji screens like the ones they still used as the sliding panels for the doors of their rooms. In the last few decades, Esher had decided to upgrade the dividing walls to a more solid construction of immovable wooden panels that had been built in a way that mimicked the paper and wood screens, with white painted wood replacing the thick paper. His brother had done it after he had tired of Valen and Calistos accidentally breaking the more delicate traditional shoji screens.

  Something Keras would have done if Esher hadn’t upgraded the one that divided his bedroom from Ares’s. He would have gone straight through the screen to land in his brother’s room, stark naked.

  He gritted his teeth as he lifted his trembling arm. He slapped it down on the pile of clothes on the chair and his strength failed him, had his arm falling towards his lap, dragging all his clothes down with it.

  He picked his boxers from the pile and wrestled them on.

  Grabbed the seat of the chair and used it to haul himself onto his feet.

  He leaned against the wall beside it as he fumbled with his black robe, his breath sawing from him as his muscles protested, arms aching and shaking. When he had won his battle against it, he eyed the walkway beyond the open door of his room and the sunlit garden.

  Keras sucked down a breath, and then another.

  Pushed off.

  The first few steps went well, but then the confidence they gave him became his downfall. He tried to move too quickly, ended up almost tripping over his feet as he staggered forwards, fighting for balance and bracing himself for a fall. Rather than hitting the wooden planks of the walkway or falling into the courtyard garden, he hit the post that supported the roof.

  Sagged against it as he breathed hard.

  He gave himself a moment to recover and then forced himself to move, shuffling from post to post, pausing at each one that brought him closer to the kitchen. The smell of food grew stronger, had his stomach gurgling non-stop. He hoped it was only Esher in the kitchen, or perhaps Cal.

  When he reached the wall of panels that blocked his view of the living area and crossed the short span of decking to the one that had been pushed back in front of him to form a doorway, he froze.

  Everyone was in the dining side of the long rectangular room.

  He grimaced.

  Megan rushed over to him despite being heavily pregnant, and his eyes widened to match hers.

  Marek stepped to him before Megan could reach him, placed his arm around Keras’s waist to support him and muttered, “You should have called for one of us.”

  Keras wasn’t sure what to say to his brother. He wasn’t sure what to say to any of them. The guilt was swift to come though, to close his throat and fill him with an urge to turn away, to leave them to eat in peace and not be a burden on them. He didn’t deserve the concern that showed on all their faces, not after the things he had done or the way he had acted.

  Another emotion rose to swamp him as he spotted Ares coming to take hold of Megan’s shoulders.

  Relief.

  It was good to see his brother on his feet again. So good that Keras’s eyes burned and warmth rushed through him, stirring up feelings that had him labouring for breath as they poured over him, as he struggled against the onslaught of them, fighting to breach the surface so he wouldn’t drown in them.

  “I can heal you if you need it,” Megan said.

  “No.” Keras choked the word out and cursed as those feelings grew stronger in response to her kindness, as they came dangerously close to pulling him under.


  He stared into her chocolate eyes and gritted his teeth as he remembered how he had treated her, how close he had come to hurting her. He couldn’t let her heal him, wasn’t even sure she could heal this for him. He wasn’t willing to risk finding out.

  Healing his kind drained her and he wouldn’t risk her unborn child.

  He reached a shaking hand out and laid it on her stomach, feeling the baby there.

  Life.

  So small and precious.

  And she would risk it to help him.

  He closed his eyes as emotions overcame him, a combination of guilt and a deep and humbling sense of gratitude. She honoured him. Tears lined his lashes and his nose burned as he lowered his head, as he battled to break the surface again so he could breathe. He knew he could never make up for the things he had done, or the person that he had been, but he was going to try.

  He was going to face whatever lay ahead of him.

  It wasn’t over yet.

  There was still a long way to go before he was in the clear and free of his addiction, before he learned how to handle life without his pills.

  “I’m sorry,” Megan whispered.

  He opened his eyes and fixed them on hers as she rubbed her belly on either side of his hand.

  “Why?” He frowned at her, confusion washing through him, sure he had missed something.

  “I don’t know.” She gave a little shrug and her face crumpled. “You just look so…”

  Keras managed a smile. “You did nothing wrong… It was I who did so much wrong.”

  Those last words leaked from him as he looked at all his brothers where they had gathered before him. Around him. Shame devoured him. A sense of honour humbled him.

  He didn’t deserve his family.

  He looked at each of his brothers in turn, at the women who stood beside them, and then settled his gaze on Ares. Ares’s dark eyes were warm, filled with concern that touched him and made him feel as if his brother was waiting for him to have a complete meltdown, was poised to catch him in case he fell on his face or did something equally as embarrassing.

  “Do not look at me like that,” Keras muttered, because he wasn’t an invalid. Not anymore anyway. “I will be fine… but if you can… send a message to your protector, I… would appreciate it.”

  Ares’s tawny eyebrows met in a quizzical look. “Why?”

  Keras glanced at the favour mark that peeked out from beneath the tight sleeve of Ares’s black T-shirt, the tribal shield design a few shades darker than his skin.

  “I know Enyo is with her brother.” And he worried that he wouldn’t see her again. “And I wish to thank her.”

  The room erupted and he grimaced as his ears ached, flinched away as his brothers argued with him and with each other, most of them against Enyo and only a few of them for her after what she had done.

  He lowered his head as it ached, the noise grating viciously in his ears, his heart drumming faster as a need to lash out at his brothers built inside him, coaxing the darkness towards the surface.

  Eva beat him to it, her Italian accent sharpening her words to a blade as she snapped, “Shut up! Stronzi!”

  Keras lifted his head.

  Found not only Eva in front of him, but Caterina and Megan too, and Cassandra, Aiko and Marinda looked ready to join their side in the fight, all of them glaring at their men.

  Megan turned to him.

  “I’ll give the message to Enyo. Ares will do what I want.” Megan didn’t miss a beat even when Ares arched an eyebrow at her and tried to interject. “Enyo did the right thing, even if these idiots don’t think so, and she stayed with you the whole time. She even brought your mother here for you. I doubt she wanted to leave, so… I will go and tell her brother Ares that you’re grateful… and you want her back.”

  Keras stared at her and fear got the better of him, was too powerful for him to master and silence. “I do not think she will come back.”

  Megan smiled. “Of course she will.”

  Keras would have killed to have her confidence.

  She peered over her shoulder at Ares. “Take me to wherever this Ares is.”

  Ares huffed. “Mount Olympus, and we’re not usually welcome there, and neither are mortals.”

  Megan planted her hands against her hips and huffed right back at him. “Well, heck. I’m going and they can try to kick me out. I’m not just any mortal. I’m the mother of Hades’s granddaughter!”

  She was so feisty that Keras couldn’t hold back a genuine smile. He had never realised how strong and brave she was.

  A few of his brothers looked close to tearing up as their gazes locked on him.

  He scowled at them all, daring them to mention anything about his smile, or how he was emotionally all over the place. They all just smiled right back at him.

  Except Ares.

  He sighed and muttered, “I’ll get into trouble for this.”

  He took hold of Megan’s hand and pulled her to him, wrapped her in his arms and held her close as he gazed down at her, his dark eyes warming with love and his voice dropping to a soft whisper.

  “I’ll try to be more gentle this time.”

  He disappeared in a swirl of black smoke.

  Keras stood there.

  Aware of his brothers as they stared at him, as a tense silence fell. He tried to think of something to say as he slowly pulled himself together, as he conquered the emotions that had him feeling he was on a rollercoaster, up one moment and down the next, never knowing what was going to happen next.

  Esher stared hardest at him.

  Keras cleared his throat. “Something smells good.”

  Seconds stretched until each felt like a minute.

  Finally, Daimon grumbled, “Figured you’d be hungry when you woke.”

  Cal came to Keras and took hold of his other arm, and guided him to the long low wooden dining table with Marek’s help. Valen was kind enough to gather so many cushions that Keras’s seat looked like a padded cell, but he didn’t pick his brother up on the fact he clearly felt Keras was in danger of breaking himself.

  Marek helped him down into his padded cell. There was just enough room for him to sit wedged between the cushions. If he had wanted to move, he wouldn’t have been able to.

  Valen looked pleased about that as he sank into his own seat opposite Keras, and Eva joined him, still looking irritated with him and Keras’s brothers.

  Cal set a glass of water in front of him, and placed a pitcher nearby. “You look like you might need this.”

  He did. He clutched the glass in both hands, not trusting his strength, and did his best not to reveal how much they were shaking as he carefully lifted it to his lips. The water was bliss as it washed over his tongue and down his throat, cooling it and his stomach, and quenching some of his thirst.

  He felt like hell still, but a little better at least.

  Keras fought for something else to say, something that would get the conversation flowing or stop his brothers from watching him like hawks.

  Nothing came to him.

  His mind was occupied, tied up in thoughts of Enyo.

  He wanted to see her again.

  Would she come back?

  Megan thought so.

  Keras?

  He feared she wouldn’t.

  Felt sure he would never see her again.

  Chapter 13

  Every second that passed had the ache to see Enyo growing, had Keras waiting feverishly for Megan’s reappearance so he could hear whether she had managed to speak with Enyo and could hear what the goddess had had to say.

  He toyed with the bracelet, running his fingers around it.

  “That’s new,” Marek said as he eased into the seat on the other side of Valen across the long rectangular table to Keras.

  Keras smiled again, and it felt alien to do it so often. “Enyo’s method of controlling my power was better than mine.”

  He leaned forwards as softer and lighter emotions gave way to fatigue. He plan
ted his elbow on the table beside his empty plate and bowl, and propped his head up on his chin. Closed his eyes.

  “Is it stronger than a limiter?” Cal took the seat beside him.

  Keras nodded. Stifled a yawn. The conversation finally began to flow around him.

  “It looks good on you.” Marek this time. “I wonder how she put it together. Maybe she used wards in it.”

  “Looks like metal of Olympus to me.” Daimon’s gaze landed on Keras.

  Keras cracked an eye open and looked at the bracelet as his brothers speculated where she had gotten the materials. He knew. He recognised the threads from the braids she had worn for centuries, ones she must have untied for the first time in hundreds of years so she could make this for him. She had told him once that the metal her braids contained were blessed, offered her protection and strength.

  She had sacrificed those blessings to pass them on to him.

  The conversation rolled on without him, slowly irking him by degrees.

  Because it was too civil.

  His brothers were treading on eggshells around him. He wearily looked at them all as Aiko and Esher began bringing out dishes, setting them on the table. His family feared they would break him. He was stronger than that.

  Valen stood and grabbed the rice, brought it around to Keras’s side of the table. Keras leaned back, giving him room to fill his bowl. Rather than serving him rice, Valen served him a hefty punch on his right arm.

  “It’s a bitch, isn’t it?” Valen said.

  Keras lifted his gaze to his brother’s face.

  Valen smiled knowingly, his golden eyes glittering with it. “Waking up realising what you’ve been doing these past few hundred years was wrong. Hindsight… it’s a bitch.”

  Another smile tugged at Keras’s lips, relief that at least one of his brothers was no longer going to treat him as if he was fragile bringing it out. Valen had experienced his share of pain, together with an addiction to his power that he still fought to this day. Keras nodded, grateful that Valen understood him at least.

  “Mother did come.” Daimon slid the white panels open to reveal the garden, allowing fresh air to roll into the room.

  Keras breathed deep of it as he stared at the garden, at the flowers that had bloomed and faded, a sign that she really had been there with him. For him. That touched him deeply.