Page 25 of Blood and Ruin: The Complete Series

Kane shakes his head at me, a small tilt to his lips. “He’s a direct descendant of Cerberus.”

I gape at him, the shock hitting me like a physical force. “The original hound of hell?”

“Exactly.”

How did I not know about this? Why didn’t he tell me?

I guess it made sense in a way. He was always able to make the others listen to him, even though they were all alphas too.

A descendant of the guardians of the gates of hell.

That was… a mindfuck. I’d heard of myths about a few of his descendants. They were dangerous, dark and something you never wanted to cross.

But this was Kai we were talking about. The same Kai who used to sneak into my room and stand guard at my door for wandering spirits.

Another thing that now makes sense.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine.” No matter how many years had passed between us, I knew without a shadow of a doubt that he, nor the others, would ever hurt me. Not like that.

Kane releases a harsh breath. “Just… Keep your guard up.”

“I will.” I promise him but not for the reason he thinks. I needed to keep away from them; I needed to protect my heart.

“Go on. You don’t want to be late for your appointment.” Kane gives me a no nonsense look, tilting his head in the opposite direction the vamps went.

Kane doesn’t know about King’s little sessions or the setup with Alana, he thinks what King wants everyone to think. Only King’s oldest and closest guards know what really goes on in that room and I’d prefer it that way. I see too much pity from the kind-hearted demon to ever want him to know the truth.

I nod a thanks to Kane, turning to go when he calls out.

“Jaz wants to see you later at the club. I’ll be working tonight.”

I give him a small smile before hurrying down the hall, an excited pep in my step. Jazmyn must have found the contact we needed for the last piece of the spell. It was finally all coming together.

My good mood plummets when I come around the corner and spot Marcus on the door today. My least favourite of all King’s guard dogs. He’s a jaguar shifter who enjoys joining in on King’s sessions the most. The glint of sick satisfaction each time I reluctantly cry out or moan when the pain gets to be too much has shown me just how depraved of a creature he really is.

“There’s that fiery temptress I adore to play with.”

He takes a step to the side, waving me forward. I hesitate before straightening my back, not letting him get the better of me, and walk to the door.

Just as I reach for the handle, I feel his stale breath reach the back of my neck, “Soon, my little temptress.”

Before thinking about it, I grip my fist, forcing my elbow upward with as much strength as possible. His foul breath leaves me as he drops to the floor behind me.

Grabbing the handle, I yank it open and rush inside the small room, his raspy chuckle following me inside.

“Kiarra? Kiarra, is that you?” My heart constricts at the small, weak voice that calls out.

“It’s me, Alana.”

I find the owner of the small voice on the floor in the empty room.

I can see the goosebumps on her arms, her frail body and light rags not giving her much warmth.

Going straight to her, Alana pulls me into a hug, my arms wrapping around her with plenty of space.

I pull back, giving her a watery smile. I would not cry, not in front of her. She needed me to be strong.

“Has he been starving you again?” I grip the fabric of my top, imagining King’s head as I twist it.

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