Ivy stood in the doorway. She sounded startled, and he thought perhaps she realized what was happening at his feet, but she lingered rather than retreating, which only irritated him more.
It was impossible to concentrate on anything she was saying because Persephone had not paused in her work. Her tongue slid over his head, trailed along every ridge, lapped at his come, which beaded incessantly. She used it to moisten her lips, to gently suck him, all while her hands jerked him and teased his balls.
Gods.
Fuck him.
He had to gain some kind of control, so he twisted his fingers in her hair. It was as if she were challenging him—could he hold himself together in Ivy’s presence while she so diligently worked to make him come?
“Why are you sitting?” Ivy asked.
“I’m working,” he gritted out, though to be fair, he never used this desk. He never used this office. This was the most he had been here in years, and it had everything to do with his newest tenant, who was currently positioned between his legs.
“There’s nothing on your desk,” Ivy observed.
“It’s…coming,” he said with less control than he wanted, but there was a pressure building on the base of his cock, and it was pulsing.
Ivy remained oblivious.
“Right, well, when you have a moment—”
“Leave, Ivy,” he snapped suddenly.
The dryad went silent, her eyes widened, and instead of fleeing, she froze.
“Now,” he gritted out.
She left quickly, and Hades braced his other hand behind Persephone’s head, and when she looked up at him, he felt a rush of heat ignite his body. This was one of the most erotic experiences of his life, looking down at this woman who he loved, his cock swollen and filling her mouth.
“Take all of me.”
She nodded and braced her hands behind his thighs, widening her mouth as he leaned back and let his hips surge forward. The head of his cock hit the back of her throat, and she gagged but held on tighter.
“Yes, like that.”
He continued making slow, steady work of the passage of her throat, feeling her gulp and gasp around him, and when he came, she swallowed him whole.
When they were finished, she rested her head on his lap, and he smoothed her hair. His body felt light, almost weightless.
“Are you well?”
“Yes,” she said quietly. “Tired.”
Her lips were wet and deliciously swollen.
“Tonight, I will make you come just as hard.”
“In your mouth or around your cock?”
She posed the question with a raised brow, and Hades felt his cock twitch.
“Both.”
He adjusted himself, needing to leave soon. He rose to his feet and brought her with him.
“I know you are having a hard day. I hate to leave, but I came to tell you I will be meeting with Zeus.”
“Why?” she asked warily. The air between them was suddenly heavy with dread.
“I think you know. I hope to secure Zeus’s approval for our marriage.”
“Will you confront him about Lara?”
“Hecate already has,” he said, guessing she had yet to see the jar of blood the goddess had collected from the god. “It will take a good two years before his balls grow back.”
“She…castrated him?”
She definitely hadn’t seen it, then.
“Yes, and if I know Hecate, it was bloody and painful.”
“What good is his punishment if he can just regenerate?”
“It is a power that cannot be taken away, I am afraid. But at least, for a little while, he will be…less…of a problem.”
Though Hades had to admit that he dreaded this confrontation more, knowing his brother would not be in a good mood given his current state.
“Unless he denies our marriage,” she said, and he liked the threat in her voice.
“There is that.”
Silence stretched between them, and he knew she was troubled. He had not given her much comfort when it came to Helen, and he had only added to her worry by telling her about Zeus, but this was important. He had to at least attempt to play this game.
He brought his forehead to hers and spoke.
“Trust, darling, I will let no one—not king or god or mortal—stand in the way of making you my wife.”
Hades teleported to Mount Olympus, to his brother’s gilded estate, which rose higher than any other. Over the years, Hades had made a habit of avoiding the home of the gods, though he had his own palace there. His reluctance to spend time with the other Olympians had been interpreted by the media as rejection, and they enjoyed writing dramatic headlines that made it seem as though he had been banished from Olympus for his dour mood.
But Hades had been the one to reject Olympus even when his brother ordered him to appear.
The skies were not his realm, and the opulence left him feeling uncomfortable, especially in times such as these, when the world below their feet suffered. In some ways, Hades could not blame those who were swayed by Triad. They were right to feel abandoned by the gods. Even now, few Olympians remained on earth, and those who did were unwilling to challenge Demeter.
He entered Zeus’s estate, which was grand and everything gold, even the floor at his feet, but what gave him pause was Hera, who stood at the end of the staircase. She watched him, her head slightly tilted, her disdain evident.
“Why are you here?”
“I have come to speak with your husband. Perhaps you should join us,” he said. “It is about Persephone.”
He could feel her resentment, but she had trapped herself within this bargain, and she would have to see it through unless she wished for Zeus to know about her association with Theseus. Though Hades knew his leverage over the Goddess of Marriage was limited. It was only a matter of time before Theseus was ready to move against the Olympians, before whatever plan he had concocted with Hera and likely his father, Poseidon, was exposed.
But that was why Hades needed to secure Persephone’s hand in marriage as quickly as possible.
“I’d rather sit on a tack,” Hera said.
“Perhaps you should. From what I hear, Zeus will be out of commission for at least two years.”
Unlike her husband, who was notorious for his infidelity, Hera had not once strayed. Hades did not know why she remained so loyal.
Hera’s mouth hardened. “He will not let you marry her.”
“It is your job to sway him,” said Hades.
“Even if I speak on your behalf, he will only listen to his oracle.”
“I did not ask,” Hades said.
They glared at one another, and then she took a step down.
“He’s this way,” she said, and she led him into an adjoining room that was just as large and extravagant as the entrance. She crossed in front of Zeus where he lounged near a large set of windows.
“Your brother is here,” she said.
Zeus did not look his way, fixated on two swans floating idly on the lake. He sat with his legs spread wide, naked, save for a robe that hung open. A large bag of ice sat in his lap.
“In pain, Brother?” Hades asked.
It was likely not the best way to open their conversation, with a reminder of what Hecate had done to his balls, but it was more than deserved.
Hera, who lingered behind Zeus’s chair, glared at him.
“Have you come to witness my shame?” Zeus asked.
“I hope you are referring to the acts that got you here and not the fact that you have no balls.”
His brother was quiet, which was unusual, and Hades began to wonder exactly what Hecate had put him through.
There were few gods Zeus feared, but the Goddess of Witchcraft was one.
After a moment, Zeus asked, “Why have you come?”
“I have asked Persephone to marry me,” Hades said.
“The whole world is aware,” said Hera, placing her hand on Zeus’s shoulder. “And if they were not before, Demeter’s storm will remind them.”
Hades narrowed his eyes, uncertain of her intentions.
“Are you saying you do not approve, Hera?” he asked, the words slipping from between his teeth—a threat, barely veiled by his anger.
“It is not for me to approve,” she replied. “That is the job of my husband.”
Her words disgusted him, mostly because he knew she resented them. Everyone knew that Hera’s role as the Goddess of Marriage had been essentially overshadowed by Zeus’s approval. In the aftermath of her last attempt to overthrow him, he ceased to trust any unions she might approve of.
This was all a game.
Zeus reached for Hera’s hand, covering it with his own. Hades could only stare. He was used to his brother’s boisterous laugh, his booming voice, his unbearable ribbing, and yet Zeus remained unnervingly quiet.
Hades was not used to this subdued god, but he recognized him. He was the version of his brother that might have done great things. The one who had rescued him and Poseidon from the belly of their father, the one who had secured alliances and defeated the Titans.
“You once wished me happiness,” Hades said.
“I did,” Zeus said. “But as I recall it, you also never told me who it was that had gained your affection.”
“That never bothered you,” Hades countered. “You know what the Fates have said.”
“The Fates have given you a lover, not a wife,” Zeus replied.
Hades’s hands fisted, and he hated the truth of those words.
“Now, my dear, do not be so hard on Hades,” Hera said and bent so her head was near his. Hades wondered if she could only stand to be beside him now because he was a eunuch. “He is very much in love with the daughter of Demeter.”
Hades seethed.
Zeus looked at his wife. Their noses brushed but their lips did not touch.
“Will you deny me?” Hades asked.
“I am saying that if you are to marry, it will be because I have given you that gift.”
“So you want to make this about power?”
He knew in some measure that would be the case. It was why Zeus consulted his oracle before arranging marriages, but Hades had never thought it would look like this.
“It is always about power,” said Zeus. “Your first mistake was thinking it never was.”
Hades returned to the Underworld in a foul mood—even fouler when he found Hermes in his bedroom with Persephone. He was holding up two short dresses, neither possessing enough fabric to cover her completely.
“You should wear this. Hades won’t like it, but you’ll blend in,” the god was saying.
“What’s going on?” Hades asked.
Persephone whirled, eyes wide, but when she saw him, she frowned.
“Are you okay?” She took a step forward and then halted. “What happened with Zeus?”
“Nothing,” he snapped. “What’s happening here?”
“I…um…Hermes was…”
“Sephy has to go to a sex club,” said Hermes.
“That’s not what’s happening,” Persephone snapped, glaring at the god.
“Well, not yet,” Hermes said. “She has to ask you first.”
“Hermes, shut up,” they said in unison.
The god slammed his mouth closed. “Fine. I’ll be in the closet.”
When they were alone, Persephone turned to him and spoke. “After Helen was asked to leave, Sybil, Leuce, and Zofie went through her things. We found a date, time, and an address for Club Aphrodisia. We think she might be attending a meeting of some kind associated with Triad.”
“And you want to go?”
“We all do. Zofie, Sybil, Leuce, Hermes,” she said. “This is personal, Hades.”
“It might be personal, but that does not mean you can be stupid,” he said.
Persephone’s mouth hardened.
From inside the closet, Hermes groaned. “Oof. What an idiot.”
“We may have a chance to learn what they are planning,” Persephone said. “Do you not want to prevent another attack?”
“Of course,” Hades said. “But that does not mean I want you there. Hermes can go.”
She stared at him, but her expression was not so much angry as it was hurt, and he didn’t like it.
“Why don’t you trust me?”
“Persephone, it isn’t you I do not trust. It’s—”
“Everyone else. I know,” she said, frustrated. “I want to respect your perspective, but I need you to also respect mine.”
Hades studied her in the silence, grinding his teeth. There was a part of him that wanted to say it did not matter, that the danger outweighed any reason she might have for going, but he knew that wasn’t fair.
He worked to keep the frustration from his voice as he asked, “What is your perspective?”
“I don’t want to be a passive god or decoration at your side. I have my own battles I wish to fight. Helen betrayed me. I want to know the extent.”
Hades understood, but it was hard to let her, and perhaps that was where he had failed. She was not one of his subjects or souls. She was not in his employ. She was his future wife. He had sworn to treat her as an equal, and he realized that fear got in the way.
“This is more than just a wish to help, Hades,” she said, her voice quiet. “You have to let me stand for something.”
He reached for her, brushing his thumb along her cheek.
“Hermes is going?” he asked.
She nodded.
“He has already agreed to swear an oath to protect me…if that would make you feel better.”
Nothing about this will make me feel better, he wanted to say, but he kept those words to himself, knowing they were no good here.
“I think the other dress, Sephy,” Hermes said, stepping out of the closet. He wore one of the outfits he’d held earlier. It was a short black dress with strings of pearls holding the sides and bodice together. “This one’s a little too…fuck me, if you get my meaning.”
Hades ground his teeth.
“Hermes…” Persephone groaned.
Hades took a step toward the god. “You agreed to swear an oath?” he asked.
Hermes’s expression grew serious. He nodded, tense. “I did.”
Hermes knew the gravity of such a promise. It was not something offered to placate, though Persephone had used it in that manner. An oath such as this meant the god was bound to protect Persephone for eternity. It went beyond a single moment.
“Swear it,” Hades said. “Swear you will protect her at all costs, even if it means an end to your own life.”
“Hades,” Persephone said, a note of horror in her voice, but he did not look at her.
“I swear it,” Hermes said.
“You know the consequences if you fail?”
He nodded once, and then Hades let his gaze drop to his outfit.
“Black is not your color.”
Hermes arched a brow. “Since when did you become the fashion police?”
“I had a…decent teacher,” Hades replied.
“Decent?” Hermes scoffed, but whatever he was going to say next was cut off by a knock at the door.
They all turned in the direction of the sound.
“Come in,” Persephone said.
The door cracked open, and Ilias entered the room, hesitating when he saw the three.
“Sorry to interrupt…whatever this is,” he said. “Hades, you’re needed.”
He could sense the satyr’s urgency, and he dreaded whatever waited for him.
He turned to Persephone and took her into his arms, cradling her head between his hands.
“I love you,” he said and kissed her hard on the mouth, and as his lips moved against hers, a new sense of unease overtook him. It fueled the way he kissed her and felt a little like goodbye.
He did not like it, and when he pulled away, she looked just as troubled, but she held his gaze and whispered breathlessly, “I love you.”
Hades took a step back, leveled a final warning look at Hermes, and stepped outside his chamber with Ilias.
“What is it?” he asked.