His father nodded. “Thánatago.” Deathbringer.
And after this, he would forge his own Thánati. A team of Spathi to hunt and prey on their predators. If the gods and Dark-Hunters wanted a war, Urian was willing to bring it to them.
July 18, 2945 BC
Urian was getting ready to leave with a strike team when a bright light flashed in the main hall of Kalosis. Grimacing, he stepped back, expecting another Apollite or Daimon. That was what normally came through their bolt-hole.
Although over the last few thousand years, they’d had the occasional Dark-Hunter or demon be stupid enough to try, and that had been highly entertaining.
But this … this was something else.
Everyone in the room froze.
His father came off his throne. Tall and muscular, the man held the aura and smell of an Apollite or Daimon, yet his dark hair said he was definitely not one of them.
Not that a Daimon couldn’t have dark hair. Their father and Archie dyed theirs. But this man’s skin tone suggested that his hair might actually be naturally that shade. That, and the fact that he smelled of an animal scent.
Like Xyn.
As if he were a hybrid being of some sort.
“Who are you?” his father demanded.
Screw that. Urian wanted to knowwhathe was.
“Nicander, son of Simonides.” He glanced around at them with a scowl as they circled him, trying to determine if they should welcome him, restrain him, or kill him. “What is this place?”
His father didn’t miss a beat. “It depends on your intent and species. What exactly are you?”
“I’m a Katagari Tsakali.”
Urian was the first to snort. “You say that as if we should have a clue as to what it means.”
He cast a disdainful smirk toward him. “Means I’m a shapeshifter. You don’t get out much, do you?”
“Enough to kill what annoys me.” Urian raked him with a sneer. “And to skin enough animals to make a new pair of boots whenever I need them.”
When Nicander started for him, the Daimons between them grabbed him and held him back.
“I wouldn’t do that,” Trates warned him. “He might look young, but Urian’s one of our strongest warriors. Trust me, you don’t want to tangle with him.”
Curling his lip, Nicander backed down, then turned toward his father. “King Lycaon—”
“Who?”
“Lycantes of Arcadia. He was crowned Lycaon VI of Arcadia. Stupid bastard had the unfortunate luck of falling in love and marrying an Apollite bride without knowing it. Somehow, she kept it a secret from her husband until her twenty-seventh birthday. When Queen Mysene died, Lycaon realized that their sons would fall prey to the same fate.”
Crossing his arms over his chest, Urian cringed at the sad reality of their mixed marriages. The gods had given them no reprieve even with that.
“Lucky him, his sister was the goddess Shala.”
Urian let out a low whistle. As the daughter of Erebus and Nyx, Shala was literally born of Night and Darkness. But more than that, her husband was the god Dagon, and his mother, Hekate, was the daughter of the Titan sun god, Helios.Thatwas quite a family tree. No wonder Mysene had wanted to marry into it. As an Apollite, that was a wise decision if one wanted to save her children.
“I take it the king decided to invoke some family intercession?” Urian asked.
Nicander nodded. “Dagon came to their aid and used his magick to splice animal DNA to Apollite biology.”
Now he had Urian’s full attention. “How’d that work out for you?”
