To Hell and Back by Juliana Stone

Kraghten in one of the upper decks. His pale face stared out of the darkness—a beacon of uncertainty, the eyes unfocused. Logan feared he’d seen too much already and that his mind was damaged beyond repair. Was he to be another Kira?
    “Are you fucking crazy?”
    The harsh voice sounded so close to his ear that Logan tensed. He turned and gazed into the hard, unyielding face of his oldest brother, Zane. The hellhound stood inches from him, his tall, powerful body clothed in the requisite leather they all preferred. His features were similar enough to Logan’s that you could tell they were brothers, but Zane had a few inches on Logan, a few more pounds, and as the oldest of Santos’s sons, a hell of a lot more souls dragged to Hell to his credit. He was hard and unforgiving, but fair and loyal to a fault.
    “I’ve been called worse.” Logan cracked a smile, though it faded quickly when Zane stepped closer and growled.
    “What the hell are you thinking? Santos will kill you.” Like their father’s, Zane’s head was shaved, with an intricate pattern of tattoos covering most of his skull. The veins along Zane’s neck corded and stood out in stark relief as he pushed into Logan. “All of this for a fucking kid? A human? Are you kidding me?”
    Logan’s eyes softened for a moment. As the oldest of his four brothers, Zane had looked out for him from the get-go. From the moment he’d arrived in this foreign, dark, and brutal place, Zane had had his back. Even when he’d defied their father all those years ago and brought Kira out of the darkness back into the human realm, Zane had defended him.
    It was only because of Zane that Logan had finally been freed from the pit. He would always be grateful to his older brother, but he knew that Zane would never understand. How could he? The blood that ran through Logan’s veins was different from his brothers. The light was as much a part of him as the darkness, and he’d always been conflicted. He’d always been looking for something to hold him together. Hell, it was the reason he’d joined the League of Guardians in the first place.
    But now he had Kira. She was the glue that kept him together—sane—and he would do whatever it took to get back to her. He just couldn’t sacrifice an innocent to do it.
    Logan’s gaze moved upward once more until he settled on the young, pale, face that stared out into the madness.
    “Logan, are you listening to me? It’s a fucking kid. Why are you doing this?” Sweat beaded Zane’s forehead. “Father will pulverize you and then you’ll end up in the pit, and this time there’s nothing I’ll be able to do to get your ass out of there.” Zane’s voice was hoarse. “Nothing. He’s been looking for an excuse to send you back ever since you got out,” he said with a frown, “which wasn’t all that long ago. How in the hell did you get your ass involved in something bad enough to warrant Lilith’s interest?”
    Logan clasped Zane’s forearm. “I could use a good man in my corner.”
    Zane stared at him long and hard, his strong features twisted in anguish. “Did you not hear anything I just said?”
    Logan shrugged. “None of it matters.”
    Zane growled. “How can you say that?”
    How could he make his brother understand? The crowd was louder, the atmosphere angrier. Logan ran his hand through the tangled hair at his nape, a wince crossing his features as he did so. He was still sore from the punishment doled out by Lilith earlier. His gaze traveled upward. The viewing chambers were full. It wouldn’t be long.
    Movement along the side of the cage caught his eye and Zane turned and looked up as well. They both watched as their father, Overlord Santos, walked out of his private room and stood along the catwalk that led to the cage. He flexed his muscles and squared his shoulders, as a cacophony of cheers rose to greet him.
    Even from where they stood Santos’s eyes burned blood red, and when he smiled, his