Keras: Guardians of Hades Series Book 7

by Heaton, Felicity

  She had never been so happy either.

  But now she had ruined it.

  Or at least she feared she had.

  What if Marek was right, and Keras would recover best with her help, needed her as deeply as his brother suggested?

  She recalled how he had looked in the garden, when she had announced she wasn’t married.

  Recalled how she had felt sure he was going to kiss her.

  Marek looked her over, his gaze assessing, and then held his hand out to her again. “Need a lift?”

  She swallowed her pride and nodded, slipped her hand into his and let him teleport her. She landed in the courtyard of the Tokyo mansion with him, on a steppingstone close to the broad grey step that led up onto the wooden walkway.

  Megan paused as she exited the main room of the house in front of Enyo, her chocolate eyes wide. “Look at the state of you.”

  The Carrier female bustled over to her, her loose autumnal jumper swaying in front of her baby bump with each step. Concern warmed her eyes as they took Enyo in. Before she could say anything, Megan had taken hold of her arm and was leading her somewhere.

  “Let’s get you cleaned up.” Megan waddled ahead of her, one hand on Enyo’s arm and the other resting on top of her belly.

  When they neared the turning in the walkway that ran around the courtyard, the path she had taken with Keras, Enyo’s gaze strayed in that direction.

  She could feel him there.

  Ached to go to him.

  Megan’s grip on her arm tightened, her tone firm but light as she said, “Not until you’re cleaned up. Besides, his brothers are with him right now.”

  That was enough to have Enyo yielding to her, letting her lead her away from Keras. She wanted to see Keras, but she didn’t want to face his brothers again, not just yet. Not when she felt so weak.

  She followed Megan left at the junction, along a hallway between the kitchen and one of the bedrooms in that wing, into a more open area. Thick wooden pillars supported the roof, but the sides to her left and right were open, revealing trees to her left, and a steaming pool to her right. Beyond that pool was a beautiful, secluded corner of the garden where white gravel had been raked in mesmerising swirls around rocks.

  “You look like you were run over by a snowplough.” Megan stopped as she reached a broad paved area and turned back to face her. “Maybe I should get Cass. She could do a spell to heal you.”

  Enyo was quick to shake her head. “No. I will heal soon enough.”

  Megan looked as if she wanted to argue, and then she sighed. “Fine, but I’m taking care of those wounds.”

  Panic lanced Enyo and she snatched her arm away from Megan before she could even attempt to heal her, endangering her unborn daughter. Megan’s eyebrows rose high on her forehead, confusion flickering in her dark eyes.

  It quickly turned to realisation and amusement.

  “I wasn’t going to heal you.” She rubbed her belly as she went to a cabinet near the stalls to Enyo’s right and returned with a box. “I was going to do things the old-fashioned way.”

  Enyo felt like a fool when Megan opened the box to reveal white bandages and other mortal medicine. She tensed when Esher stormed past her, filled a large bowl at a basin near the stalls, and swept back out of the room without saying anything.

  His glare spoke volumes enough.

  “I think they’ll be some time cleaning him up.” Megan closed the box and took hold of Enyo’s arm again. “Come on. You’re safe with me.”

  Enyo followed her, a strange feeling stirring inside her as Megan forced her to sit on a low stool between the shower stalls and the huge rectangular stone bath. It only grew as Megan went about gathering water and cloths, and began cleaning the blood from Enyo’s skin and inspecting her wounds.

  She wasn’t used to this sort of companionship, wasn’t used to others showing concern about her. Normally when she returned from a battle, she took care of her own wounds and washed the grime of battle from herself. Her brother never even asked if she was all right, and none of his servants tried to aid her.

  She felt a little lost as Megan fussed over her, couldn’t form responses to any of what Megan said as she prattled on about her wounds and tended to them, wrapping cream crepe bandages around her left biceps and forearm. She wasn’t sure how to react when Megan made her stand, when she noticed the blood on her side and began to unbuckle her breastplate.

  She stood there, mute and unsure what she had done to deserve such kindness.

  Sure she didn’t deserve it.

  Megan placed a large white dressing on Enyo’s left side and carefully smoothed the edges down. “There. That should help stop the bleeding at least.”

  When the Carrier stepped back to appraise her work, Enyo fidgeted with her breastplate, focusing on fastening the buckles again. She wasn’t sure what to say as she finished and glanced at the woman who stood a good four inches shorter than her.

  A deep sense of gratitude, one born not only of the fact Megan had tended to her but of the fact she was being kind to her despite what she had done, pushed a thank you to the tip of her tongue.

  Esher strode past the end of the corridor beyond Megan.

  Glared at Enyo.

  Megan scowled back at him and he turned away, and Marek appeared in view with Daimon following on his heels.

  “Guess they’re done.” Megan waved her hand towards the corridor. “I’ll show you the way.”

  She smiled softly, one that chased the chill from Enyo as she felt the weight of Daimon and Esher’s gazes on her.

  Enyo nodded and followed the Carrier, thankful that she had intercepted her before the two gods could raise an objection to her being in their home after what she had done.

  Megan led her along the covered walkway that ran parallel to the main living area and then banked right, heading along the length of that wing of the house. She stopped at the opened white wood-framed panels of the final room.

  Enyo stared into it, at Keras where he lay on the bedding in the middle of the room, still out cold. He looked peaceful at least, and someone had removed his soiled clothes and washed the blood from him. A thick dark blanket covered him from the waist down, leaving his bare chest exposed.

  “I’m just next door if you need anything,” Megan said, her soft voice warm.

  Enyo glanced at her and nodded, waited for her to disappear into the room next door where she could see Ares sleeping, and then drew down a deep breath.

  She stepped into Keras’s room, crossed the golden straw mats to him and sank to her knees beside him.

  She carefully stroked her fingers over a bruise on the left side of his chest, skimmed her fingers down his arm and lingered with them on the silver band that encircled his thumb.

  Sorrow swept through her, all the wasted years crowding her mind as she sat with him, as a need to speak to him filled her even though he wouldn’t hear the words she wanted to say to him.

  She lifted his hand as tears burned her eyes, brought it to her lips and pressed a kiss to the ring he wore.

  She had wanted to tell him that she loved him that day, had mustered her courage for hours before going to see him, only for it to falter and abandon her when she had finally been in his presence. She had cried when she had returned home, tears of anger rather than pain, had been furious with herself for lacking the strength to tell him the feelings in her heart, for giving him the ring under the pretence of it being a token of friendship.

  He had a terrible way of making her weak.

  Making her words fail her and fears fill her.

  He was the only man in existence who could truly bring her to her knees.

  Her brother tried, but no matter what he did to her, no matter how many times he trampled her feelings or shut her in his home, attempting to control her and keep her under his thumb, she never let him break her. She always held on, always found the strength to keep her chin up.

  Keras could strip all her strength from her with only
a look. He could break her without saying a word.

  She lingered with her lips against the ring, her eyes on his face. She couldn’t believe that all this time, he had been taking the pills because he couldn’t bear the pain of being apart from her.

  She was touched by that in a way, and part of her could sympathise with him.

  After all, the cold abyss that filled her, the pain of their parting and the hurt of missing him was the reason she had turned to ambrosia again. She had wanted to erase the agony. Ambrosia had only dulled it.

  She stroked Keras’s arm. He had found a way to conquer it, and gods, if she had been in his position, had those pills available to her, she probably would have done the same thing.

  “I am sorry,” she murmured, caressing his arm, keeping her eyes locked on his face. “I should have come to see you sooner. I should have told you all those years ago that you are the only one I could ever love.”

  She frowned as sweat dotted his brow, swept her fingers across it to clear it away. It was cold, his skin clammy beneath her touch. She looked around at the sparsely furnished room and spotted a bowl on the mats on the other side of him, together with a cloth. She reluctantly released his hand and went to it, wetted the cloth and wrung it out. She folded it neatly and placed it on his brow, smoothed it down and watched over him as his face crumpled, a soft groan escaping him.

  She took the bowl with her and went back to his other side, gripped his hand again and held it.

  He shivered and twitched, and she drew the blanket up to cover his bare chest, tucked him in and sidled closer.

  Her heart growing heavier in her chest.

  She stroked his cheek, her brow furrowing, and whispered, “I am sorry I kept you waiting so long.”

  His face slackened, his lips parting as his trembling subsided, as if her words had comforted him and stolen his pain away.

  She tightened her grip on his hand as silence rang around her, as she stared down at him and willed him to fight, to make it through the drain on his power and the tide of his emotions and come back to her.

  Because she couldn’t lose him.

  Chapter 10

  Enyo lost track of time as she sat beside Keras, holding his hand, pressing a cold compress to his brow whenever the feverish sweats wracked him. She was only aware of him, of how those episodes that left him shaking and pale were coming closer and closer together.

  Because he needed his pills?

  At first, she had thought the episodes were the result of the drain on his strength caused by their fight and his going all out on her, manipulating shadows in a way she had never seen him do before.

  Now, she felt they were in part that but only to a small degree.

  He was coming down off his pills.

  How many had he taken each day?

  Anger blazed through her blood, but she tamped it down, focused on taking care of him as his hand tightened against hers and his lips parted on a strained groan. He twisted towards her, the black slashes of his eyebrows meeting hard as his face crumpled.

  Enyo gently guided him onto his back again, held him there as he writhed, his legs coming up towards his stomach. She stroked his chest, hoping it would soothe him, hoping he would know that she was with him and she would get him through this.

  When she had gone through her own withdrawal from ambrosia, it hadn’t been pretty. There had been a lot of vomiting. A lot of cursing. A lot of thrashing and moaning, and wanting to die.

  A lot of blaming others.

  Keras had been with her through it all, tending to her, giving her the strength she had desperately needed.

  And he was kind enough that he had never uttered a word about how terrible she had been, how awful she had looked.

  Shame ate at her and she caressed the smooth expanse of his chest, using it as a distraction for herself now. She didn’t want to think about those days, about how in the aftermath she had feared Keras would think less of her because he had seen her stripped bare, vulnerable and weak.

  If he did, he had never let it show.

  She lifted her hand and swept her fingers across the sculpted curve of his cheekbone, brushing the pointed tip of his sideburn, and feathered them down to his jaw. Her chest warmed as he stilled, relaxing into the bedding again, his breath leaving him on a sigh.

  Voices in the distance tried to steal her focus but she shut them out, narrowed the world down to only Keras again, not wanting to think about his brothers or how angry they were with her. Marek might have forgiven her easily, and some of them thought she had done the right thing, but she felt sure her actions would have consequences.

  She wasn’t sure she’d had their trust before she had confronted Keras.

  Now she felt sure that she didn’t have it.

  She picked her name out of the conversation, was tempted to listen but denied that need. No good would come of listening in on what the brothers were discussing. She was sure of that too. Most of them probably wanted her gone, as far away from Keras as she had been these last two centuries.

  Softer female voices joined the deeper masculine ones, stirring jealousy in her heart, rousing a voice that hissed things at her that had her focus slipping to the women and the brothers.

  To the mansion that surrounded her.

  This place felt like a home.

  She had never been anywhere like it.

  Her home with her brother in Olympus was nothing like this place. Her family was nothing like these people.

  Her brother Ares had made it clear that the place where she lived was his home, and that he expected her to follow his orders to the letter, making her feel as if he viewed her as his property. He gave her little freedom, other than allowing her to go to war in the mortal world whenever it was necessary, either with him or without him if he felt the war was more of a skirmish and beneath him.

  It was always good enough for her though.

  Because he truly believed that she was beneath him?

  She shut down that line of thought, didn’t want to think about her brother or their relationship right now. Her mood was too low, placing her in danger of traversing routes that would only lead to pain, to revelations that she wasn’t equipped to handle in her current state.

  Not without needing a hit of ambrosia.

  She eased Keras through another attack, mopping his brow with one hand and holding him down with her other.

  “Shh, Keras,” she murmured, low enough that she was sure no one would hear her. “I am here. Rest easy.”

  She wished she could do more for him than tend to him physically and speak to him. She wished she could steal the vile poison from his blood. The embers in her own veins ignited again, blazing fiercely in her heart, goading her into giving in to her anger.

  To confronting the one she held responsible for Keras’s addiction.

  When Keras settled again, she realised she wasn’t alone.

  She glanced over her shoulder at Megan. Another woman stood beside her. The young furie, Marinda.

  “We thought you might need some clean things.” Megan waddled over to her, one hand on her pregnancy bump and the other holding a thick wad of cream material and a towel.

  Marinda followed her into the room, carrying a bowl of water. Strands of spun gold that had fallen loose from the plait that arched over the front of her hair fell down and brushed her forehead and cheeks as she set the bowl down on the mats and picked up the one Enyo had been using. She swept them back as she straightened.

  Her tropical blue eyes lingered on Keras, her French accented voice grave as she asked, “How is he doing?”

  “I do not know.” Enyo’s gaze fell to his face again. “Better… I hope… but I am not sure.”

  Marinda took the towels and cloths from Megan, and Megan placed a hand on Enyo’s shoulder.

  “He’ll pull through. They all have a stubborn streak.” Megan’s soft words offered comfort, had Enyo nodding.

  “Like their father. Hades can be… immovable.” Enyo
had witnessed it many times for herself during her visits to the Underworld. She looked up at Megan. “How is your Ares?”

  “My Ares?” She blinked and then her eyes widened, her mouth opening in an O. “Because your brother is Ares. Well, my Ares is doing good apparently. He’s stable. Which is a relief for both of us, I think.”

  Megan rubbed her stomach through her orange sweater.

  “She calmed down around the time his power settled.”

  A female child.

  Keras had looked so worried when he had announced that.

  Enyo vowed that she would ensure that nothing happened to Megan or the baby, not while he was sleeping and not in all their days. She would be there to protect them with the brothers.

  “It’s dinner time. Well… it should be breakfast really but we’re all kinda nocturnal now.” Megan squeezed Enyo’s shoulder. “Do you want to eat something?”

  Enyo shook her head and looked beyond the women to the courtyard garden.

  It was growing light out.

  “I would like to stay here,” she said, her voice distant and quiet, the strength stolen from it by the thought of having to face the brothers. They wouldn’t want her there. She didn’t want to ruin their meal.

  “I’ll bring you a snack.” Megan’s hand slipped from her shoulder and Enyo looked up at the Carrier, into her warm brown eyes.

  The look Megan gave her would have made Enyo feel her Carrier talent was reading minds if she hadn’t known she had the power to heal.

  The mortal knew that Enyo was avoiding the brothers.

  “That would be nice, thank you.” Enyo dipped her head, and both women smiled and did the same. She was quick to add, “And thank you for earlier too.”

  “No problem.” Megan’s smile widened and warmed.

  She waited for them to go, gazed into the garden once they were gone and held Keras’s hand as the sun rose. The light slowly eased down the garden, casting shadows of the elegant pine topiary across the pale gravel. She watched them for a while, drifting in her thoughts, leaving them only whenever Keras needed her.

  He snarled low and she tensed as his power pressed against her for the first time since the rooftop.