I grab him by the throat and drive him backward through a column. Stone explodes. Dust fills the air.
“I don’t pretend.” I snarl, my voice vibrating, authority. “I am king here.”
He laughs, hoarse and delighted, and drives a blade into my side.
It burns.
Not silver. Not iron.
Something older. Something made by hands that knew how to hurt gods. It only takes me a second to realize that this blade was made by Hephaestus. It can hurt me, but not kill me.
I roar and rip it free, tossing it aside before slamming my forehead into his face. He staggers but recovers fast, too fast, swinging with a hammer-fist that catches my ribs and sends me skidding across the floor.
Pain blooms, sharp and real.
I haven’t felt this in centuries.
I push up slowly, blood dripping from my mouth, and smile. No fight has been as exhilarating.
“So,” I say. “Hephaestus finally fucked something he couldn’t fix. It’s been a while since I’ve faced another bastard.”
His grin turns feral. “Bastard doesn’t mean weak.”
“No,” I agree. “It means angry.”
We clash again, power against power, the air warping around us.
I stop holding back.
The room darkens as my power floods outward. The ground trembles. Shadows stretch and bend toward me like they recognize their master.
The dead listen when I speak.
Talos stumbles, surprise flashing across his face as gravity turns traitor beneath his feet.
“Oh,” he breathes, “there it is.”
I move faster than Talos, slamming him into the wall, then the ceiling, then the floor. Each impact sends cracks spiderwebbing through stone.
He gets his licks in. A blow to my shoulder that numbs my arm. A knee to my gut that steals breath. A blade of divine heat that scorches my chest and leaves a smoking wound.
It hurts.
It feels fucking incredible.
The fight is intense, and there are a few times Talos has me on the ropes, but he’s not fighting for what I’m fighting for. This fight is not for my life, it’s for Cassia. My mate. My love. The heart that beats inside me. The woman I refuse to lose. Finally, when I get the upper hand, I ready myself for the killing blow.
The hesitation is new. If this were any other time, I’d have dismembered him by now, but Cassia’s earlier words ring in my head.
“Mercy,” Talos croaks. He’s giving up, and I’m in the position to give him the mercy he asks for.
I grab him by the collar and lift him until his feet dangle.
“Stay away from her,” I growl. “Swear it.”
Talos coughs, blood spilling down his chin. His eyes flick past me.
Toward Cassia.
