Ares raises his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. Believe it or not…” He clears his throat, a flicker of discomfort passing over his face. “I may have… forgotten about this little plan of mine. Thanatos clued me in on what was going down.” His gaze flicks to the scorched earth between them. “I actually came to stop it before things got out of hand. But,” he shrugs, jaw ticking, “looks like I was too late.”
Draxis narrows his eyes, clearly not believing him and sends another burst of hellfire at the god. Ares’ previously charming smile instantly twists into something ugly and cruel. His red eyes flash with hunger for battle. I swear the world holds its breath.
“Hellhound,” Ares sneers, cracking his neck, warhammer glinting in the moonlight. “You’re not even a god. You’re a weapon that forgot its place. Be careful of your next step.”
Draxis doesn’t answer. He growls, a low sound that starts deep in his chest and ripples through the ground beneath my feet. Fire bursts in twin trails down his spine, smoke rising from where the talons on his feet curl into the earth.
And then he lunges.
Faster than thought, he’s on Ares, jaw snapping for the god’s throat. But Ares twists, swings his warhammer in a brutal arc. It slams into Draxis’s ribs with a crack that shatters trees in the distance. Draxis roars, wings of fire flaring wide, and uses the momentum to slam his talons into Ares’ side. Sparks explode as metal meets bone.
They collide again, like storms clashing, the sound louder than thunder.
Ares slams a fist into Draxis’s face, sending him crashing into a stone pillar. I scream, heart clawing up my throat. The pillar crumbles around Draxis, but before the dust even settles, he is up, charging through the rubble, his eyes glowing silver, his fury almost a living thing.
He tackles the god into the ground with unbelievable speed.
Claws sink into golden armor. Metal bends. Blood pours. Ares laughs like a crazy person.
“You think rage makes you strong?” he snarls, twisting beneath Draxis, driving his elbow into his throat. “I am rage made flesh.”
Draxis howls, a sound that fractures the air. He bites down on Ares’ shoulder, fangs sinking deep enough to pierce muscle. Ares stops laughing. He’s screaming now.
But he doesn’t stay down. He channels his power, his body glowing with a radiant, red pulse. It blasts Draxis off him, flinging him through the air like a ragdoll. He crashes into a huge marble statue, wings trailing sparks.
“Kneel!” Ares roars, his warhammer spinning in his grip, red fire spiraling up the shaft.
Draxis gets up and steps forward, blood staining the dirt. His body shakes.
“I said kneel!”
Draxis lifts his head. His voice, when it comes, is low. Raw.
“Only forrr maattteee,” he growls and then he launches himself at the god.
They clash again.
Ares laughs — until Draxis carves through his armor, blood splattering the dirt.
Until my magnificent hellhound shoves one hand against the god’s chest — and burns.
Hellfire ignites.
The battlefield turns white-hot. Ares screams, flames curling around his body, licking at his flesh.
His golden armour melts. Holy shit. My mate is melting a god!
Draxis slams Ares down, fangs bared.
“Forrr my mattteeee,” he snarls, voice shaking the skies. “Forrr everrry scrrream of herrrss. Forrr everrry tearrr. Forrrr the chainsss you helped forrrge.” The words are broken, cracked, but they’re clear. And they make my heart soar.
He opens his jaws wide, hellfire glowing inside his throat, and lets it erupt.
Ares is engulfed.
When the fire fades, the god lies broken, scorched into the earth. The next second, he’s gone. Disappears.
And Draxis — bloody and furious — lifts his head to the sky and howls.
