“They burned her right in front of me,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I thought she was gone forever, but their leader…he kept her collar. He said he would return it if I joined them. They…needed magic.”
“A golem?” Hades asked.
Vasilis nodded.
Hades understood now. The Magi had agreed to serve Triad in exchange for the collar. It was the only item left that belonged to his cat, but he had not wanted it because he was sentimental. He’d wanted it for a purpose—the collar could be used to resurrect her, which by the looks of it, had been successful.
“So, you traded your freedom for a collar?”
“What would you trade for something you loved?” the Magi countered.
The world, Hades thought.
“Oh!” Hecate exclaimed suddenly, bending to scoop up the cat that had hissed at Hades earlier. “Is this her? What a sweet baby! What is her name?”
“S-Serena.”
“Serena,” Hecate said, lifting the cat as she would a child. “I have a polecat named Gale—”
Hades sighed. “Hecate, can you not?”
“This is being human, Hades,” the goddess said. “You should be taking notes. Don’t you want to impress Persephone?”
“Who is Persephone?” the magi asked.
“Not your concern,” Hades snapped, then he glared at Hecate and hated himself for his next question. “What does a cat have to do with being human?”
“It has everything to do with the cat,” Hecate said, then she sighed. “The cat is humanity. It’s what makes this,” she gestured toward the Magi, “unfortunate, sad, and pitiful mortal worth saving.”
“You haven’t seen his soul,” Hades muttered.
Hecate glared.
“I am teaching you a lesson, Hades! Learn it.”
Hades was about to snap that she was a horrible teacher, when he felt the air shift behind him. He turned and shadows split from his essence, racing toward the retreating form of the Magi, who was attempting to escape down the hall.
The shadows enveloped him and sent him flying backward. The Magi crashed into one of his immaculate glass displays and was still.
Hecate grimaced.
“You didn’t have to throw him so hard. He isn’t a god.”
“He wanted to act like one.”
Hecate arched a brow. “Is that the response of a compassionate god?”
“Is that what you were trying to teach?”
Hades took a step toward the mortal and waved his hand. The Magi opened his eyes, blinking, and then groaned as the pain from his landing set in.
“Listen here, mortal, and listen well. You will tell me who requested your services, or I will spend eternity cutting out your tongue and feeding it to your cat. Do you understand?”
The man nodded, breathing hard, and answered, “His name is Theseus.”
Theseus.
It was a name Hades knew well, as it was the name of Poseidon’s son, his nephew.
“The golem was Sisyphus’ idea,” Vasilis explained. “He was a client of mine. It was after he came to visit that Theseus arrived, demanding to know Sisyphus’ plans. He made me summon a portal to the warehouse. He left from here with Sisyphus. I don’t know where they went.”
So Sisyphus had been deceived just as much as Hades had. The question was, what did Theseus want with Sisyphus? Had he sought revenge for the murder of Aeolus Galani, or was there something more to his actions?
After a moment, the Magi spoke.
“Please…please don’t take my cat.”
“Hecate,” Hades called to the goddess, who had made her way toward the dark hallway with the cat still in her arms. “Bring the cat.”
“W-wait. I said please!”
“Oh, you’re coming, too, mortal,” he said, and Vasilis’ eyes grew wide.
“But I told you the truth! I—”
The Magi was silenced, vanishing with a wave of Hades’ hand. He would spend time imprisoned, but not in Tartarus—he would go to a Phantom Site, a prison that could only be seen by those who were favored. It was a special place for mortals like him—Magi who broke the law or held secrets—and on rare occasions, might be used as bait.
Hades turned to Hecate. “See, I can be compassionate.”
***
Before leaving The Three Moons, Hades summoned Ilias to the shop so the satyr could dispose of the contents—which meant burning it to the ground. He and Hecate parted, Hades had business with Aphrodite, while Hecate intended to return to the Underworld.
“The souls are celebrating you tonight,” she reminded him. “They would be overjoyed to see you.”
Guilt slammed into him, as it always did when his people set aside time to worship him.
“Persephone will be there. I believe they plan to honor her as well.”
That was not unexpected. She deserved their worship. She was more of a god than he had ever been to them. Besides, they would have to get used to celebrating her. She was to be their queen.
“Perhaps I will make it this time,” he said before departing, but doubted his words.
The Goddess of Witchcraft meant well, but there were some demons Hades did not wish to face, and his people—his past treatment of them—was one.
Hades found Aphrodite at her seaside mansion, reclining on a blush chaise in her marbled home, floor to ceiling windows overlooking the ocean and Hephaestus’ island. When he appeared, she yawned, placing the back of her hand over her mouth.
“I expected you to return last night,” she said, fanning herself with what looked like a bundle of feathers. “You must have had quite the distraction on your hands.”
“Your mortal drugged Persephone,” Hades said, getting to the point of his visit. He did not normally mind Aphrodite’s badgering, but he was not in the mood for it today.
The goddess did not react, but her hand continued to move, the feathered fan beating in a steady rhythm.
“Where is your proof?” she asked, bored.
“I tasted the poison on her tongue, Aphrodite,” Hades said tightly.
“Tasted?” Aphrodite sat up, eyes widened slightly as she set her fan aside. “So you kissed her, then?”
Hades’ jaw tightened, and he did not respond.
“Are you in love?” she asked, and there was a note of alarm in her voice Hades did not understand. Did Aphrodite fear that he would win their bargain and she would lose her chance to see Basil returned from the Underworld? Or did she even care about Basil? Did she fear more that she would no longer see him as she saw herself—alone?
He glared at her, and her eyes sparkled, a smile curling her lips. “You are! Oh, this is news, indeed.”
“Enough, Aphrodite.”
She glared, folding her arms over her chest. “I suppose you have come here to threaten Adonis?”
“I have come to ask why you let it happen.”
Aphrodite’s eyes widened, and she blinked, clearly not expecting Hades to ask that question. Then her eyes narrowed. “What are you accusing me of, Hades?”
“You keep your lovers on a short leash, and yet you let Adonis go and summoned me when things got out of hand. Were you hoping to see me rage?”
“I think you are accusing me of setting up last night’s debacle.”
Aphrodite might be the Goddess of Love, but she did not believe in it and often made obtaining it difficult for mortals. She saw it as a game and played them like pawns, introducing distractions, challenging the bond she could never establish with another.
He knew what she was doing, and he was here to stop it.
“Persephone is not a plaything, Aphrodite. You do not get to fuck with this.”
Her lips thinned, and her sea green eyes darkened.
“There are no rules to the bargain, Hades. I can challenge your choice as much as I wish.”
“Let me be clear, Aphrodite. This bargain has no bearing on whether or not Persephone will be my queen, as that is a future woven by the Fates. If you fuck with her, you fuck with me.”
“If she does not love you, you cannot prevent her eye from wandering.”
“Is that what you were attempting to prove last night? Because all I saw was my future wife in distress. A crime that will not go unpunished.”
“Unless?”
Her question made Hades chuckle, and the sound stole Aphrodite’s smug expression.
“Oh, there is no bargaining when it comes to my queen,” Hades replied. “Adonis’ existence in the Underworld will be horror.”
As he spoke, the Goddess of Love’s eyes widened, and anger clouded her face.
“Hades—” His name slipped from between her lips like a warning.
“Nothing will keep me from shredding Adonis’ soul. Rest well in the knowledge that you have decided his fate, Aphrodite.”
The last thing he heard before he left was Aphrodite screaming his name.
***
Hades returned to his office in the Underworld. It overlooked Asphodel, and he watched his people’s merrymaking from afar, illuminated by lantern light. From this distance, he could not see Persephone, but he knew she was here. Her presence unearthed more memories from the previous night, and along with it, the guilt of leaving her on his bed, naked, skin flushed with desire. At least he had proven one thing to himself—she wanted him sober.
He sighed and downed a glass of whiskey before loosening his tie and heading for the baths. He needed a shower. He felt unclean, the stench of dark magic and Vasilis’ shop clinging to his skin.
He paused at the entry to his private baths where he could hear the splash of water and smell Persephone’s scent. The thought of seeing her naked again filled him with lust, his cock thickening at the thought of being inside her.
But would she reject him? Or invite him to explore every facet of her body?
He was about to find out.
He stepped out of the shadow, making his way down the steps, ensuring he made enough noise so that he would not startle her. When he came into view, he found her at the center of the oval pool, flanked on either side by marble columns. Her eyes were wide, her cheeks flushed, her hair was wet and suctioned to her body like vines curling around porcelain. The water lapped at her breasts, coming just to her rosy nipples, and it was so clear, he could make out the curve of her hips and the dark curls at the apex of her thighs. His thoughts turned to how it would feel to part that satin flesh and explore the evidence of her desire for him. He was sure she would be slick and hot, ready for his fingers and his mouth, and he would drink from her until she came apart in his arms.
Then his eyes fell to his feet, where her clothes were piled. On top, sat a beautiful gold crown. He recognized the craftsmanship as Ian Kovac’s, a talented blacksmith who had resided in the Underworld for centuries.
Hades bent and picked it up for a closer examination. It was a beautiful gem and floral crown, a perfect balance of flora that represented him and Persephone alike.
“This is beautiful.”
She stared, her eyes burning like a forge. Hades wondered what thoughts accompanied that gaze. Were they just as salacious as his own? Was she wondering what his cock would feel like in her hands, how he would taste in her mouth, the sound he would make as he came?
She cleared her throat, breaking his thoughts. “It is. Ian made it for me.”
“He is a talented craftsman. It is what led to his death.”
Her brows drew together over her forehead. “What do you mean?”
“He was favored by Artemis, and she blessed him with the ability to create weapons that ensured their wearer could not be defeated in battle. He was killed for it.”
Favor could be a dangerous thing to bestow. It made targets of mortals in antiquity and today. Sometimes, the results were positive and the receiver was granted celebrity and status, then other times, they were killed.
Hades stared at the crown a moment longer. It was significant that she had accepted such an ornament from his people, even if she had done so to please them. It was a sign of her dedication to them, a quality in a true queen. He set it down atop her clothes and then rose to his feet, meeting Persephone’s gaze again. It was also significant that she had not moved to hide herself from him.
“Why didn’t you go?” she asked. “To the celebration in Asphodel. It was for you.”
“And you. They celebrated you,” he said. “As they should.”
“I am not their queen.”
“And I am not worthy of their celebration.”
“If they feel you’re worthy of celebration, don’t you think that’s enough?”
Hades did not respond. He did not wish to speak on this topic. In fact, the only words he wanted to share with her were erotic pleas and breathy moans. His cock throbbed, desperate for freedom and pleasure, which made his blood rush to his head and kept him from focusing on anything but sex.
“May I join you?”
He noted the way her throat constricted as she swallowed, nodding. Her invitation only encouraged the fire. He held her gaze as he stripped, almost groaning as he freed his jutting sex from the confines of his trousers. It felt swollen and taut to the point of pain. He needed release, and he was even more desperate for it as Persephone’s gaze traveled the length of his body, just as hungry as he felt.
He stepped into the pool and spoke as he approached. “I believe I owe you an apology.”
“For what, specifically?”
A smile touched his lips. He was aware she felt he owed her an apology for more than just the way he had left her yesterday. The problem was, an apology was offered when someone truly felt sorry for what they had done, and Hades didn’t think he’d ever be sorry for tricking her into their contract. It would mean her freedom, whether she realized that now or not.
He moved closer, towering over her, and touched her face, brushing his finger across her cheek.
“Last time we saw each other, I was unfair to you.”
She averted her eyes, and Hades’ hand fell from her face as she said in a quiet voice, “We were unfair to each other.”
She was talking about the article she had written, and the fact that she was acknowledging its unfairness made his breath catch in his chest. Was it too much to hope that she was changing her mind about him?
“You like your life in the mortal realm?” He had to ask, needed to assess her attachment to the Upperworld. Would she leave it to be his queen?
“Yes.” She pushed away from him, swimming backward, her breasts lifting above the water. Hades followed as if she were pulling him on a string. “I like my life. I have an apartment and friends and an internship. I’m going to graduate from university soon.”
“But you are Divine.”
He did not understand. Why was she building this mundane life in the Upperworld, when she could have anything? Everything?
She stopped wading away, and they stood centimeters apart. He could feel the brush of her nipples against his skin as she breathed.
“I have never lived that way, and you know it,” she replied, and she looked almost frustrated with him, a line appearing between her brows.
“You have no desire to understand what it is to be a goddess?”
“No.”
“I think you’re lying,” he said. He could taste it immediately, that bitter, metallic tang at the back of his mouth. The question was, why? If he were to guess, he would think it had something to do with her dormant power.
“You don’t know me.”
Her eyes ignited like souls ascending into the night sky.
Yes, he thought, build that fire.
He wanted her angry, wanted to feel her passion radiate from her body and vibrate through his own.
He narrowed his eyes, challenging. “I know you.”
He moved so that he was behind her, touching her only with the tips of his fingers, trailing along her collarbone and shoulder.
“I know the way your breath hitches when I touch you. I know how your skin flushes when you’re thinking about me. I know there is something beneath this pretty façade.”
He pressed a kiss to her shoulder, before his hand moved lower, grazing her breast. Persephone offered a sharp inhale as her body arched into his, and Hades almost groaned.
“There is rage. There is passion. There is darkness.” He punctuated his words with the swirl of his tongue against her neck.
“And I want to taste it.”
His hand drifted across her belly before hooking around her waist, then he drew her tighter against him, leaving her in no doubt of his desire for her. His cock fit perfectly against her shapely bottom, her back against his chest.
“Hades.” She breathed his name, and it made him ravenous.
He dropped his head in the crook of her shoulder and he begged, “Let me show you what it is to hold power in your hands. Let me coax the darkness from you. I will help you shape it.”
While he held her against him, his other hand sought her center. His fingers threaded through coarse, dark curls until he cupped her sex, feeling its heat wet his hand. Persephone’s head flew back, resting on his shoulder, and her gasp encouraged him.
“Hades, I’ve never—”
“Let me be your first.”