Closing his eyes, he tried not to think of the night he’d watched Geras die by the hands of a Dark-Hunter. The pain-filled look on his son’s face when he’d been unable to reach him in time. That panic and fear an instant before he’d shattered into dust.
Or Nephele, who’d gone too long without a soul.
She’d been sitting right beside him when she’d just burst apart. To this day, Urian didn’t know if she’d simply been inattentive to the signs that she needed to replenish, or if it’d been a form of suicide. If it had, she wasn’t the only Daimon to do so. It was so common, they even had a name for it—suntribó.
That moment when they just became too tired to continue. When the voices wore them down and the deaths of those around them were more than they could contend with.
When they felt just like he did right now. Life was too harsh and they just gave up.
Lifting his knees, Urian cradled his head with his arms and wept. Not for himself, but for those he loved. Gods, it hurt so much. So deep.
And he was so tired of it.
How could he hope now? The last bit of his kindness and goodness was gone.
Without her, he had nothing. He was nothing.
His body shaking, he stared with blurry vision at thedakruonthat were tattooed along his hand and forearm in an intricate pattern. Black teardrops to mark the deaths of everyone he loved. There were so goddamn many.
Now there would be one more.
He drew a ragged breath as his gaze went to the phoenix on his shield. He bore that same mark on his biceps.
His totem animal.From this too, I will rise.Though he didn’t know how. He couldn’t imagine how. But he would. Xyn would be the first to kick his ass.
We are warriors.
And his dragon wouldn’t have given her heart to anything but the strongest of the strong. “You cannot break me,” he whispered. “I’m already shattered.”
October 3, AD 801
Spawn, Paris, and Davyn sat across from Urian as they watched the intriguing crowd around them. The Varangians in particular held their interest, as they were known to have some of the strongest souls of the bunch.
“I thought the Rus were supposed to rape and pillage,” Spawn muttered irritably as he watched them carouse and revel in friendly comradery.
Paris snorted. “You can always go Kassandrian. I won’t tell.” Kassandrians were the branch of Daimons who lacked all semblance of decency or ethics. They didn’t care who or what they preyed upon. Even children and pregnant women were fair game. And they were a pariah to all the rest of them.
Which meant Paris was joking.
No one could stand a Kassandrian. To prey on a pregnant woman or child was forbidden to them. They were exiled and turned out immediately. Much like a trelos. The only difference being that a trelos couldn’t control their behavior. A Kassandrian knew exactly what they were doing. They just didn’t care. Nothing mattered except their own petty selfishness.
Truly, they were disgusting creatures.
And because of the way they fed, they smelled bad, too.
Urian wore many hats in their world. As a warrior, he was considered a Spathi, and since he led groups into battle, he was a Rigas. Because they targeted primarily Dark-Hunters and the Squires who served them, that made him and his soldiers Dikisi Daimons.
But the two titles that would make anyone other than the three Daimons at the table with him scorn him if they knew were that of Anaimikos and Akelos. Akelos were Daimons who only preyed on human souls that were corrupt. The very kind that often led them into turning their species into trelos Daimons. And Anaimikos were those like Davyn who fed from Paris. Daimons who fed other Daimons. Those who didn’t kill at all. They split the souls with their partners.
It was actually very sweet what his brother had with Davyn. While Davyn couldn’t kill to eat, he would kill to protect Paris. Without hesitation and with extreme prejudice.
And speaking of which …
Urian didn’t mind killing to live. He felt his powers surge as the Apollites they were seeking came in.
The other line of Apollo. Two sons. One was already a Daimon, but the other was on their list.
He passed a knowing look to Spawn. “How are you?”
