Dead of Night

Prologue

12 days.

11 hours.

42 minutes.

36 seconds.

I'd counted each tick of the clock since Thanatos left. Every time I close my eyes, I can see her exactly as she'd looked that night. The wind had whipped her midnight curls around her delicate face. Her white gown roiled around her legs like a ghost in the wind. Her haunting blue eyes had held so much pain from the loss she'd suffered. Her lips had trembled as she spoke, although she'd been speaking of love . . . at first.

I'd tried to protect her; to do the one thing I'd been put on this earth to do but she'd refused to let me. My goddess had turned from me with hard words and something inside of me had shattered.

I've been shot.

And, as it turns out, emotional bullet wounds are even more damnably uncomfortable than I ever could have imagined.

It takes a herculean effort not to end this pain by finding her and dragging her back to the Underworld kicking and screaming. She can hate me as much as she wants, as long as she's safe.

I stand in the garden I'd sworn my Warrior's Oath to Thanatos in, devoid of emotion -or, at least, attempting to be. I rake my hands through my unruly hair as the feelings of pain and anger scream inside of me, fighting ravenously against the cage I'd imprisoned them in. The chaos is unbearable.

My goddess has left me broken and bleeding, blocking the pain is all I can do to keep my sanity.

The Underworld is a desert once again, aching from the loss of its beautifully dark queen. Sweat drips down my brow, a result of the hellish heat. Without Thanatos, this place is truly Hell.

I tug at my hair, nearly ripping clumps of it out of my scalp. The pain is nothing compared to the anguish I feel inside.

Anger at myself rages inside of me, threatening to tear me apart from the inside out. I'd driven her away with my need to protect her, but how could I not try to protect her? I'd sworn on my immortal soul to do just that.

She can't defeat Bel by herself, no matter how much she thinks she can. She may be the goddess of death but she only just got her memories back. Bel has had centuries to plan his war. He's driven by madness and a crazed, unrequited love that threatens to overwhelm his very being. He has nothing left to lose and will stop at nothing until he has her. Why can't she see that?

With a roar of rage, I grab a fistful of forget me nots and trip and tear and shred until I'm standing in a circle of my own destruction. I fall to my knees in delirium, running my fingers over the mess that I've made.

Is this my punishment for all the sinful things I've done in my immortal existence? I'm already in Hell. I'm the damn king! So they take away the one glimmer of hope I have instead? Oh, fate, thou art a heartless bitch.

I drop my head into my hands, hope dying within my tortured soul.

"Arawn," a familiar voice rumbles from behind me.

I don't bother to turn around.

"Leave me, brother. I'm in no mood for company," I say, attempting to regain my composure. It will do me no good to break and drive away the only family I have left.

Hades doesn't move. My frown deepens. Can't he tell when his presence is not wanted? My annoyance grows as we sit in silence for a handful of heartbeats. Finally, Hades sighs.

"Destroy as many flowers as you want, brother, but pull yourself together. The war is not over yet."

My shoulders droop as I relent, feeling foolish. My time for pity has ended. Bel is still out there and I will not rest until his bleeding heart is in my hand.

I stand, surveying the aftermath with a disinterested frown.

"No," I murmur darkly, "it has only just begun."