“I am the God of the Dead,” Hades said. “Who am I to fear battle? When you all die, you come to me and face my judges, the same as any mortal.”
Silence followed his statement.
“It would take great power for these demi-gods to defeat us,” Artemis said. “Where would they get it?”
From Divine favor, Hades thought but did not say.
“We are no longer living in the ancient world,” Athena said. “There are weapons other than magic at their disposal.”
It was true, and the longer mortals studied the magic of the gods, the more they understood how to harness it and potentially use it against them.
“I’m merely stating that it would be in our best interest to observe,” Hades said. “Triad will grow in numbers and strength if their high lords are as predictable as I think.”
“And who are these high lords?” Zeus asked.
Hades looked to Poseidon, and Zeus’ gaze followed, eyes narrowing. “Is this some scheme of yours, brother?”
“How dare you!” Poseidon’s first clenched the arms of his throne, cracking the shell it was made from.
“You’ve tried to take my throne before, you meddlesome prick!”
“Prick? Who are you calling a prick? Need I remind you, brother, just because you sit upon the throne as King of the Gods does not mean I am less powerful.”
Suddenly, everyone was glaring at him, save Zeus and Poseidon, who were locked in a verbal battle. Hades just chuckled.
“Imagine this as your torture in Tartarus,” he said. “For it is the sentence you’ll all receive for making me sit through this fuckery.”
Hours later, Hades found himself in Zeus’ office. It was a traditional space, furnished with a large oak desk that sat before a set of bookcases lined with leather-bound volumes he most definitely used for show. Large windows overlooked Zeus’ vast estate, where he kept a heard of bulls, cows, sheep, and swans. That was where Hades stood, while Zeus poured them a drink.
“So you stole Helios’ cattle,” Zeus said.
“He prevented me from carrying out Divine Judgement,” Hades said. “He had to be punished.”
“But you agree that his punishment has gone on long enough, yes?”
“If you are asking for confirmation that I will return his cattle, yes.” Hades paused. “In due course.”
Zeus sighed.
“Helios can threaten darkness all he likes, but he forgets that I am the darkness. It answers to me.”
Zeus had nothing to say to that. He took a drink and swished the alcohol in his mouth before saying, “Alright, but if push comes to shove, I’m not intervening.”
“I would be offended if you did,” Hades replied.
He drained the drink Zeus had offered and sat the glass down with a click, preparing to leave.
“Tell me of this woman who has turned your head.”
Hades froze.
“It is as I said at the gala and nothing more.”
“I do not believe that is the case,” he said. “If this had been any other mortal, you would have sought retribution for the things she said. Instead, you entertain her, dedicate a whole fucking building to her.”
“She had valid points,” Hades stated, ready to leave.
“And she has caught your eye. Admit it, brother!”
Hades did not.
“Bah! I should not expect you to be vulnerable, though I do wish you happiness.”
Hades raised his brows. “Remember those words, brother.”
You will not think them long, he thought.
“As such, I feel it is my duty to warn you of the deception of women, mortals in particular.”
“Says the god who seduces women in the form of animals.”
“That was not deception. I could not approach them in my Divine form, as it is a form mere mortals cannot truly grasp.”
And yet none of us have the same issue, Hades thought.
“You disguised yourself because they had already rejected you,” Hades countered. “Do not attempt to lie to me, little brother. We both know it is futile.”
Zeus’ lips flattened, his eyes narrowed.
“Women only want one thing, Hades, and that is power.”
Hades had no doubt it was one of several things women wanted, and among them, freedom to exist without worrying about predators like Zeus.
“Perhaps you fear women in power because of the way you use your own—to rape, abuse, and torture.”
This conversation had not gone the way Zeus expected, but Hades would not hear his brother speak ill of women.
He turned from him and left his office. Outside, he found himself in a courtyard that was open to the sky. A path cut through the center, flanked by marble statues of nymphs. At the center was a simple fountain in the shape of a hexagon. As Hades started down the path, he was stopped by Demeter, who stepped out from behind one of the columns lining the boundaries of the yard.
She was full of hate for him. It built in her eyes, making them murky in color, like water in a swamp. Hades knew this confrontation would come. While Demeter had been ignorant to her daughter’s presence at the gala, she knew Hades spoke of her when he had given his speech, and now it haunted her. She’d probably relived it in every paper, in every magazine, on every news station. She could not even escape the knowledge at council. It was quite possibly the best torture Hades had ever doled out.
“Stay away from my daughter, Hades.” Her voice was even but menacing. It was the voice she used to strike fear in the hearts of her nymphs and to curse mortals.
But it only gave Hades pleasure.
“What’s the matter, Demeter?” he challenged. “Afraid of the Fates?”
His words were an acknowledgment. I know of the prophecy, they said.
“If you truly care for her as you so publicly claim, then walk away,” Demeter said. “She stands to lose everything if you do not.”
“And those are the actions of someone who cares for her?” Hades asked.
Demeter stepped toward him, her voice shaking. “I am doing this because I care! You are not right for my daughter.”
“I think she would disagree.”
Demeter glared, and after a moment, she stepped back, laughing. “My daughter would never betray me.” Hades got the feeling Demeter was only trying to convince herself of that. “She would never choose you over me.”
“Then you have nothing to fear,” Hades said.
Except she had everything to fear, because Persephone had already betrayed Demeter. She betrayed her every time she’d come to Nevernight, every time their lips met, every time she put her mouth on his cock, spread her legs, and let him taste her. Persephone had betrayed Demeter every time they came together, calling each other’s names, and it was that thought that had him smiling as he vanished from the grounds of Olympia.
CHAPTER XXIV – THE ASCENSION BALL
Hades teleported to the Underworld. His first stop was Hecate’s cottage, where he found the goddess preparing for the evening. She looked like the moon, draped in silver, her lampades weaving matching stars into her dark hair.
“Hades,” Hecate said. “How was council?”
He was not often vocal, but he felt the need to recount his time at Olympia.
“Zeus will pay dearly for his commentary on women,” Hecate said when Hades finished.
He had no doubt. Hecate was not afraid to punish gods. She had done so many times and in many ways, from setting traps to curses to revoking the victory of a precious hero. Her wrath was real and deadly when she was pushed.
“I worry his attention will turn to Persephone,” Hades said.
Hecate’s eyes glimmered like coals.
“If it does, she will be able to defend herself.”
Hades looked at the goddess questioningly. “How?”
“She did not tell you? The night you had—err…” She paused, and Hades glared. He knew what she was going to say. The night after they’d had sex. “The day after The Olympian Gala, she sensed life for the first time. She could feel her magic.”
Hades let Hecate’s words sink in. Persephone sensed her magic. He knew it was possible that her powers would begin to awaken, but he had not expected it to happen so fast. It meant that Persephone had accepted his worship, that she had felt powerful and worthy while they had made love.
It meant that she trusted him.
The realization made his chest swell, and it made Demeter’s words feel even more threatening, but when Hades expressed this to Hecate, the goddess just smiled.
“Have hope in your goddess, Hades. Has she not already chosen you?”
***
Hades did not stay long with Hecate. He was eager to see Persephone. It sounded strange, but he was curious to observe a change within her. Would her ability to sense life alter the way she thought of herself and her Divine blood? He thought of when he had met her. It was like she resented who she was, as if she felt like less of a goddess because she could not call upon her power. Power that had not arisen because she had been hidden away her whole life.
Hades clenched his fists at the thought. Demeter had let her believe she was powerless, she had watched as Persephone spiraled, putting distance between herself and her Divinity until she no longer saw herself as one.
And yet she was the most god-like of any of them.
The first thing he noticed when he manifested in the Queen’s Suite—the suite that would one day belong to her—was her scent. She smelled of sweet vanilla and earthy lavender. Their eyes met in the mirror, and just as she started to turn toward him, he stopped her.
“Don’t move. Let me look at you.”
She froze.
It was an exercise in control, because all Hades wanted to do was be near her, and yet he maintained his distance and walked a slow circle around her, savoring every detail. She was dressed in gold, the color of power. The fabric was like water pooling on her skin and touched her in all the places Hades wished his hands could be, and beneath that thin fabric, he noted how her nipples hardened into tight peaks. As he came up behind her, he wrapped a hand around her waist and pulled her against him, meeting her gaze in the mirror.
“Drop your glamour.”
Her eyes widened slightly. “Why?”
“Because I wish to see you,” he said. He felt her seize beneath him. It was like the night after La Rose when she held those sheets to her chest, a shield she used to protect herself from his gaze. He reached out with his own magic, caressing hers, and he felt her open to him. He turned his mouth to her ear, still maintaining eye contact. “Let me see you.”
She closed her eyes as she let go, and Hades watched as she transformed. She was everything. She was everything in any form, but there was something about watching her embrace her Divinity that was inspiring. It was beautiful. Right now, it felt intimate.
“Open your eyes,” he whispered, and as she did, she didn’t look at Hades but at herself. She was enchanting, and everything about her had intensified. Her skin glowed, her eyes were luminous, her horns spiraled gracefully, but perhaps she appeared like a flame because she stood before his darkness.
“Darling, you are a goddess.”
He pressed his lips to her shoulder, and he felt her hand hook around his neck. She turned into his kiss, and their lips crashed together, hungry and hot. His pulse skyrocketed, and heat flooded the bottom of his stomach, filling his cock until it was hard. He made a carnal sound that came from the back of his throat, and Persephone turned in his arms. Hades pulled away, cupping her face.
“I have missed you,” he said.
She smiled sheepishly and admitted, “I missed you, too.”
His lips caressed hers, but Persephone was eager. She pushed up onto her toes, and their lips collided. He liked her hunger and her boldness, her hands smoothing over his chest, down his stomach, seeking his cock, but before she could reach him, he stopped her, breaking the kiss.
“I am just as eager, my darling,” he said. “But if we do not leave now, I think we shall miss your party. Shall we?”
She actually hesitated, and he found himself smiling, but she took his outstretched hand. As she did, he dropped his glamour, revealing his Divine form. Unbound hair, black robes, and a crown of silver made of jagged edges that sat at the base of his horns. He could feel Persephone’s gaze upon him, sinful and sweet. It touched him everywhere and sparked his hunger.
“Careful, goddess,” he warned. “Or we won’t leave this room.”
He felt the truth of his words deep, even as he managed to lead her out of the suite into the hallway toward the ballroom. They paused behind a set of gilded doors, and Hades was glad because he wished to savor this moment—the first time he presented to his court with Persephone by his side.
Perhaps she did not even realize the significance, but from here on out, they would see her as his counterpart, as a figurehead, as a queen.
The doors opened, and silence descended. Hades’ hold on Persephone’s hand tightened, and he rubbed reassuring circles up and down her thumb, but the anxiety he had sensed within her seemed to lessen as soon as she saw the crowd and the smiles of those who knew her. When he glanced at her, he saw that she smiled back.
His people bowed, and he led her down the stairs, into the waiting crowd. They rose to their feet as they passed, and Persephone smiled, called each by name, showering them in compliments or asking after their day. It had never taken Hades so long to reach his throne, but watching her interact with the souls was humbling.
His eyes wandered to the faces of others in the crowd, and when he caught them staring, they looked away quickly. Part was embarrassment and part was fear, and that strange guilt returned in a fierce wave, clamping down on his heart. Then Persephonereleased his hand, and she broke through the crowd to embrace Hecate. Shortly after, she was surrounded by souls. Like moths drawn to flame, they descended once the darkness was gone.
He continued on, the crowd parting easily for him, and he couldn’t help noticing the distance his souls placed between them. It was a stark comparison to how eager they had been to touch and embrace Persephone. He frowned, and the guilt grew heavier as he stalked to his throne where Minthe hovered. She was dressed for the occasion, in a fitted burgundy dress. It made her hair look like a sunset and her skin bloodless. He knew by the expression on her face she had things to say, and Hades hoped she understood by his expression that he wanted to hear none of them.
He sank into his chair and watched the revelry, but his shoulders were bunched and his fingers curled into the arms of his chair. He felt on edge, waiting for Minthe to say something that would only deepen the darkness inside him.
“You have taken this entirely too far,” she finally spoke, her voice quivering, a hint at the storm of emotions that lay beneath her words. Hades did not look at her, but he could see her profile out of the corner of her eye and she wasn’t looking at him, either.
“You forget yourself, Minthe.”
“Me?” She whirled toward him, and Hades looked in her direction. “She was supposed to fall in love with you, not the other way around.”
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were jealous.”
“She is a game, a pawn! Here you are flaunting her as if she were your queen.”
“She is my queen!” Hades barked, nearly coming out of his chair.
Minthe snapped her mouth closed, her eyes widening just slightly, as if she could not believe Hades had raised his voice at her. When she spoke again, it was in a tone as icy as the air around them.
“She will never be enough for you. She is spring. She will need light, and all you are is darkness.”
Minthe spun on her heels and left the ballroom, but her words remained, having hooked themselves in his skin. They brought his own thoughts to the surface, the ones he had buried deep, the doubt that Persephone, Goddess of Spring, could ever love him, the King of the Dead.
They could not be more different, and their entrance into this ballroom tonight had taught him that.
“Why are you sulking?” Hecate asked.
He had a feeling the goddess had been trying to sneak up on him, but as all her attempts, this one had failed too. Hades’ eyes slid to hers, and he glared.
She pursed her lips. “I know that look. What did Minthe do?”
“Spoke out of turn, what else?” he grated.
“Well.” Hecate’s voice changed pitch, and Hades knew she was about to say something that would only add to his frustration. “She must have spoken the truth, or you would not be so angry.”
“I don’t want to talk about it, Hecate.”
He was staring at Persephone as she danced with the children of the Underworld. They held hands and pranced in a circle. Now and then they would break away from each other to twirl or Persephone would lift them into the air, laughing as the they shrieked with delight.
“She loves the children,” Hecate said.
Another pang in his chest.
Children.
It was something he could not give to Persephone, an option he had bargained away long ago. Could he really ask her to forgo being a mother to spend her eternity with him?
After a moment of silence, he spoke quietly. “I should let her go.”
Hecate sighed. “You are an idiot.”
Hades glared.
“She is happy!” Hecate argued. “How can you look at her and think you should let her go?”
“We are immortal, Hecate. What if she tires of me?”
“I tire of you,” she said. “I’m still here.”
“I knew I should not have tried to talk to you about this.”
He stared harder at the dance floor when he saw Persephone turn and come face to face with Charon. He bowed to her, that damned smirk upon his lips. He asked her to dance, and she took his hand.
His knuckles turned white as he clenched the arms of his throne.
“You could not let her go,” Hecate said. “You could never see her with another man.”
“If that was what she wanted—”
“She doesn’t want it,” Hecate said, cutting him off. “You must not assume you know her mind just because you have fears. Those are your demons, Hades.”
He gave her a dark look, and for a moment, Hecate’s expression was just as stern, then it softened and the corner of her mouth lifted.
“Let yourself be happy, Hades. You deserve Persephone.”
Then she wandered off into the crowd. Hades’ gaze returned to Persephone. She drew attention like a flame, her beauty, her smile and laughter, her very presence, radiating warmth and passion and life, and despite the fact that he had disliked their earlier separation, he liked watching her. It distracted him from the fact that Minthe returned, taking up space on his left, while Thanatos appeared on his right.
“Come to apologize?” he asked her.
“Fuck you,” she replied.
“He’s done that,” Hermes commented, sidling past them, white wings dragging the ground. He looked ridiculous, bare chested, wearing only a gold shroud over his waist. “It must not have been very good, because I don’t believe he ever went back.”
“Hermes,” Hades growled, but the god was already parting the crowd, heading straight for Persephone. She turned as he approached, and he bowed, asking her to dance. Hades watched, frustrated, as he took her into his arms and swayed, movements exaggerated and taking up space.
It wasn’t that he thought Charon or Hermes would take liberties, or that he was jealous because she danced with them. He was jealous because he felt as if he could not approach her, like the atmosphere of the room would change if he did. He should not fear it, this was his realm, but there was something so vibrant about this night. There was a life here that hadn’t been here before Persephone.
As he thought her name, her gaze snagged on his and held, and he noted the longing in her eyes, as if the distance between them was a strain. It wasn’t long before she broke from her Hermes and approached him, eyes burning and body dripping in gold. It was something out of a fantasy, and he could not help imagining her kneeling before him to take his cock into her mouth. Already it strained, restricted by his robes.
She bowed low, the angle giving him a view of her ample breasts. As she straightened, she asked, “My lord, will you dance?”
He would do anything to touch her, anything to hold her close, anything to feel friction where he desired it most. He rose and took her hand, and did not move his eyes from hers as he led her to the dance floor. He drew her near, every hard line of his body cradled by her softness, reminding him of the way he fit against her as he collapsed atop her after release. A release he wanted now.
“Are you displeased?” she asked.
It took him a moment to detach from his thoughts and focus on her words.
“Am I displeased that you have danced with Charon and Hermes?”
She stared, a frown touching her lips. Obviously, she was concerned about his mood. He leaned into her, lips touching her ear as he spoke.
“I am displeased that I am not inside you,” he whispered gruffly, and drew her earlobe between his teeth.
She shivered against him, and as she spoke, there was a smile in her voice.
“My lord, why didn’t you say so?” she teased.
He drew away, eyes darkening with need, and guided her to spin before pulling her back to him. “Careful, goddess. I have no qualms taking you before my whole realm.”
“You wouldn’t.”
Would, he thought. He would cloak this place in darkness and draw her up his body until she fit snugly on his cock. He would urge her to remain quiet but make it exceedingly hard as he coaxed her to orgasm.
The thoughts were too much, and he found himself pulling Persephone off the floor and up the stairs, his people clapping and whistling, oblivious—or perhaps not so oblivious—to his intentions.
“Where are we going?” Persephone asked, struggling to keep up with his long strides.
“To remedy my displeasure.”
He took her to a balcony that overlooked the palace courtyard. She started to walk ahead of him, drawn to the edge as if she were memorized. He did not blame her, the view was stunning, as the whole Underworld was pitch black, save for the stars which appeared in clusters of various sizes and colors. Hecate had always said Hades’ best work happened in the dark.
He was about to make that true of pleasure as he pulled Persephone back to him.
She stared, eyes searching his own.
“Why did you ask me to drop my glamour?”
He drew a golden curl behind her ear as he answered, “I told you. You will not hide here. You needed to understand what it is to be a god.”
“I’m not like you.”
She had said those words before, and this time, Hades smiled at them. She wasn’t like him; she was better.
“No, we have only two things in common.”