Page 38 of Hateful Prince
Dahlia’s head snapped in his direction. “You can see her?”
“Dahlia, ah damn it,” Cain growled as the spirit surged forward, claws outstretched and aimed right at my mate’s throat.
Fear unlike anything I’d known slammed into me. I could protect my woman from damn near anything, but a vengeful spirit? What good were claws and brawn against an intangible foe?
“Those aren’t yer only weapons. Let me free.”
I hesitated, my dragon’s voice burning through me. “Release me!”
In the time I spent considering the roared plea, Cain took matters into his own hands. Blue flames burst to life, the unearthly fire licking halfway up his arms. And they didn’t stop there. This time the same flames danced in his hair, not burning so much as enveloping and sending strands flying out in every direction.
“Get back,” he shouted, sparing us a brief glance that lasted only long enough for me to note his eyes burned with the same blue fire.
The spirit screamed, the sound so loud my ears rang, but compared to Dahlia’s banshee wail, it was but a whimper. In the blink of an eye, she was gone, leaving nothing more than a cold spot in her wake. The resulting silence was so loud it was damn near painful.
Dahlia slumped forward, her skin covered in goosebumps as she shivered violently.
With the threat neutralized for now, the only thing left to do was comfort my mate.
Caspian was of a similar mind, and I couldn’t help but smirk when I was faster, my arms snaking around Dahlia’s hips and pulling her back into my heat. I hated knowing she was in discomfort. If there was anything I could do to ease her, I’d do it. Fuck, I’d give her the very heart from my chest if she required it of me.
“Are you okay, gem?” I murmured into her hair.
“I... don’t even know what just happened. I’m pretty sure I fucked up. Again.”
If anyone else was listening to our conversation, they didn’t give any indication of it. Instead, Tor’s low, rumbled question had all of us turning to look at him.
“How did you break free?”
Dahlia stiffened in my arms. “Wh-what?”
“Not you, Kærasta. Him.” He pointed a bloodstained finger at Cain. “When did you escape the underworld, Hades?”
There was no change in his expression as Cain’s eyes met each of ours. “Well, guess the cat’s out of the bag.”
Chapter
Twelve
TOR
The god of the underworld, well-known mischief maker and soul stealer, Hades, had been here all along, plotting. Was he responsible for the spirits tormenting my mate? Was he going to steal her soul next?
Hades held my stare for several heartbeats, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out he was stalling.
“The truth, Hades.”
Hades rolled his eyes. “You really think you did something there, don’t you?”
I crossed my arms, not about to let him off the hook. “Was it all a lie? Have you been pulling the wool over our eyes all this time?”
The cocky bastard laughed. “I’m not that good an actor.”
“You’re a god. Of course you’re a skilled liar. It’s basically the number one requirement when gods play in the mortal world.”
He spread his hands out on either side of his body. “What do you want me to say, boy?”
There was no hiding the fury that ripped through me at his disrespect. I may only be a demigod, but I was still a Berserker. “I am no boy, and you will not address me that way again, or you will never say another word at all.”