It took her a moment, but she realized she was searching for Hades. He was not among the dancers or those in attendance at the tables. She frowned and turned to find Sybil approaching.
“Persephone,” she smiled, and they hugged. “You look beautiful.”
“So do you.”
“What do you think of the exhibit? Marvelous, isn’t it?”
“It is.” She couldn’t deny, it was everything she’d imagined and more.
“I knew great things would come of your union,” she said.
“Our…union?” Persephone echoed slowly.
“You and Hades.”
“Oh, we’re not together—”
“Perhaps not yet. But your colors, they’re all tangled up. They have been since the night I met you.”
“Colors?”
“Your paths,” Sybil said. “You and Hades—it was destiny, woven by the Fates.”
Persephone wasn’t sure what to say. Sybil was an oracle, so the words that came from her mouth were truth, but could it really be that she was fated to wed the God of the Dead? The man her mother hated?
Sybil frowned. “Are you okay?”
Persephone wasn’t sure what to say.
“I’m sorry. I…should not have told you. I thought you would be happy.”
“I’m not…unhappy,” Persephone assured her. “I just…”
She couldn’t finish her sentence. Tonight and the last few days were weighing on her, the emotions varying and intense. If she were destined to be with Hades, it explained her insatiable attraction to the god—and yet it complicated so many other things in her life.
“Will you excuse me?” She headed for the bathroom.
Once inside, safely alone, she took a few deep breaths, braced her hands on either side of the sink, and looked at herself in the mirror. She turned on the faucet, running cold water over her hands, and splashed her heated cheeks lightly, trying not to disturb her makeup. She patted her face dry and prepared to return to the floor when she heard an unfamiliar voice.
“So, you are Hades’ little muse?” The tone was rich, seductive—a voice that lured men and bewitched mortals. Aphrodite came into view behind her, and Persephone wasn’t sure where the goddess had come from—but once she met her gaze, she found it hard to move.
Aphrodite was beautiful, and Persephone got the feeling she had met this goddess before, though she knew that was impossible. Her eyes were the color of sea foam and framed by thick lashes, her skin like cream and her cheeks lightly flushed. Her lips were of a perfect fullness and pout. Yet despite her beauty, there was something behind her expression—something that made Persephone think she was lonely and sad.
Maybe what Lexa said was true, and Hephaestus didn’t want her.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Persephone said.
“Oh, don’t play coy. I saw the way you looked at him. He has always been handsome. I used to tell him all he would have to do is show his face and his realm would fill with the willing and faithful.”
That made Persephone feel a little sick. She didn’t wish to discuss this with anyone, much less Aphrodite. “Excuse me.” She tried to step around Aphrodite, but the goddess stopped her.
“But I am not finished speaking.”
“You misunderstand. I don’t want to speak to you.”
The Goddess of Spring pushed past Aphrodite and left the bathroom, snatching a glass of champagne from a server and finding a spot to watch the dancers. She considered leaving; Jaison had already agreed to pick Lexa up, as she was planning to spend the night at his house.
Just when she had decided to call the cab, she felt Hades’ approach. She straightened, preparing for his closeness, but did not turn to face him.
“Anything to critique, Lady Persephone?” His voice rumbled low in his throat like a heady spell.
“No,” she whispered, and looked to her right. She still couldn’t see him, even in her peripheral. “How long have you been planning The Halcyon Project?”
“Not long.”
“It will be beautiful.”
She felt him lean closer. She was surprised when his fingers brushed along her shoulder, tracing the edge of the black appliqué. Now and then, he touched skin-to-skin, and she shivered.
“A touch of darkness,” His fingers tracked down her arm and threaded through hers. “Dance with me.”
She didn’t pull away and instead turned to face him. He never failed to take her breath away, but there was a gentleness to his face that made her heart hammer in her chest. “All right.”
Eyes tracked them, curious and surprised, as Hades led her onto the floor. Persephone did her best to ignore the stares and instead focused on the god beside her. He was so much taller, so much bigger, and when he turned to face her, she was reminded of how he’d touched her in his pool.
His fingers remained twined with hers as the other hand landed on her hip. She didn’t take her eyes from his as he drew her close, growling low under his breath as they moved together. He guided her, and each brush of their bodies inflamed her. For a while, neither of them spoke, and Persephone wondered if Hades found it hard to speak for the same reasons she did.
That was probably why she chose to fill the silence with her next comment. “You should be dancing with Minthe.”
Hades’ lips thinned. “Would you prefer that I dance with her?”
“She’s your date.”
“She is not my date. She is my assistant, as I have told you.”
“Your assistant doesn’t arrive on your arm to a gala.”
His hold on her tightened, and she wondered if he was frustrated. “You are jealous.”
“I’m not jealous,” she said—and she wasn’t anymore. She was angry. He smirked at her denial, and she wanted to hit him. “I will not be used, Hades.”
That wiped the smirk off his face. “When have I used you?”
She didn’t respond.
“Answer, Goddess.”
“Have you slept with her?”
It was the only question that mattered.
He stopped dancing, and those who shared the floor with them did, too, watching with obvious interest. “It sounds like you are requesting a game, Goddess.”
“You want to play a game?” she scoffed, stepping away from him. “Now?”
He did not answer, and simply held out his hand for her to take. A few weeks ago, she would have hesitated, but tonight she’d had a few glasses of wine, her skin was hot, and this dress was uncomfortable.
Besides, she wanted answers to her questions.
She clasped his hand, and as his fingers closed over hers, he smiled wickedly before teleporting to the Underworld.
CHAPTER XVIII – A TOUCH OF PASSION
Hades appeared in his office where they’d played their game of rock-paper-scissors. A fire crackled in the hearth, but the heat wasn’t necessary; Persephone he was already an inferno from their dance, and that smile he’d offered just before they teleported hadn’t helped—it had promised something sinful.
Gods. Would it ever be possible to control her body’s reaction to him? She was terrible at resisting him, and maybe it was because the darkness in her responded to the darkness in him.
Hades offered her wine, and she accepted a glass while he chose his usual—whiskey.
He lifted his gaze from his drink and asked, “Hungry? You barely ate at the gala.”
Persephone narrowed her eyes. “You were watching me?”
“Darling, don’t pretend you weren’t watching me. I know your gaze upon me like I know the weight of my horns.”
Her cheeks colored. “No, I’m not hungry.”
Not for food, anyway—but she didn’t say that out loud.
He accepted this and walked to a table in front of the fireplace. It was like the one in Nevernight, and instead of sitting side-by-side, Hades and Persephone took up opposite ends.
A single deck of cards waited. She never imagined that a few pieces of plastic would hold so much power—these cards could take or bestow riches, they could grant freedom or become the jailer. They could answer questions and strip away dignity.
Hades took a sip from his glass and then set it down with an audible click, reaching for the cards.
“The game?” Persephone asked.
“Poker,” Hades replied.
He took the cards from the box and started to shuffle them, and the sound drew Persephone’s attention, as did his graceful fingers. The air in the room grew thick and heavy, and she took a breath before asking, “The stakes?”
Hades smiled. “My favorite part—tell me what you want.”
A thousand things came to her at once, and all of them had to do with returning to the baths and finishing what they started. Finally, she said, “If I win, you answer my questions.”
“Deal.” When he finished shuffling the cards, he added, “If I win, I want your clothes.”
“You want to undress me?” she asked.
He chuckled. “Darling, that’s only the start of what I want to do to you.”
She cleared her throat. “Is one win equal to a piece of clothing?”
“Yes.” He eyed her dress, and it really wasn’t fair because it was all she had on except for her jewels. She touched her necklace where it dipped between her breasts and Hades’ eyes followed. He seemed to assess her jewels.
“And…what about jewelry?” Persephone asked. “Do you consider that undressing?”
He took a sip from his drink before answering. “That depends.”
“On?”
“I might decide I want to fuck you with that crown on.”
She smirked. “No one said anything about fucking, Lord Hades.”
“No? Pity.”
She leaned over the table, and though she felt shaky inside, she managed in as steady of a voice as possible, “I’ll accept your bargain.”
His brows rose, eyes alight. “Confident in your ability to win?”
“I’m not afraid of you, Hades.”
Except that she was—afraid that she wouldn’t have the strength to resist him when he came for her. She was very aware of the fluttering low in her belly, reminding her that Hades’ lithe fingers had been inside her. That he had drank her passion and need from her body and he hadn’t finished.
She needed him to finish.
Persephone shivered.
“Cold?” he asked as he dealt the first hand.
“Hot,” she cleared her throat.
Heat pooled at her core and suddenly she couldn’t get comfortable. She shifted, crossing her legs harder, smiling at Hades, hoping he couldn’t tell how terribly nervous she was.
Hades laid his cards down—a pair of kings. She clamped her lips together, glaring, before she laid down her cards, already knowing she had lost. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips, and his eyes brightened with lust. He sat back, assessing. After a moment, he said, “I suppose I will take the necklace.”
She reached to unclasp it, but he stopped her. “No, let me.”
She hesitated, but slowly dropped her hands into her lap. Hades stood and walked to her side, the click of his shoes making her heart race. He gathered her hair into his hands and drew it over her shoulder. When his fingers touched her skin, she inhaled and held her breath until he unclasped the necklace. He let one side drop, and the cool metal fell between her breasts. As he pulled it away, the chain slid along her collarbone, and his lips replaced it.
“Still hot?” he asked against her skin.
“An inferno,” she breathed.
“I could free you from this hell.” His lips trailed up the column of her neck and she swallowed hard.
“We’re just getting started,” she answered.
His breathy laugh was warm against her skin, and she felt cold when he pulled away and returned to his seat to deal another hand.
Persephone smiled when their cards were on the table and said, “I win.”
Hades kept his gaze narrowed upon her. “Ask your question, Goddess. I am eager to play another hand.”
She bet he was. “Have you slept with her?”
Hades’ jaw tightened and after what seemed like an eternity, he answered. “Once.”
The word was like a stone, dropped right in the pit of her stomach. “How long ago?”
“A very long time ago, Persephone.”
She had other questions, but the way he said her name—soft and gentle, like he really regretted having been with Minthe at all—kept her from saying anything else. It wasn’t really an option anyway. He’d already given her two answers—she’d only won the right to one.
She swallowed and looked away, surprised when he added, “Are you…angry?”
She met his gaze. “Yes,” she admitted. “But…I don’t know why exactly.”
She thought it might have something to do with the fact that she was not his first, but that was silly and irrational. Hades had existed in this world far longer than she, and to expect him to abstain from pleasure was ridiculous.
He stared at her for a moment before dealing another hand. Each snick of the cards made her more and more tense. The air in the room was thick with the deal they’d made. When he won the second round, he requested her earrings. That was slow torture, as he took them out and nibbled her earlobe. She gasped at the scrape of his teeth, clenching the edge of the table to keep from threading her hands through his hair and forcing his lips on hers.
When he sat down in front of her again, she was still trying to catch her breath. If Hades won the next round, he’d ask for the only thing she had left—her dress. She’d be naked before him, and she wasn’t so sure she could withstand him undressing her.
She was spared from finding out when she won. She had another burning question.
“Your power of invisibility,” she said. “Have you ever used it…to spy on me?”
Hades seemed both amused and suspicious of her question, but she was asking for a very important reason. She needed to know if he had been in her bedroom that night, or had her desire for him simply caused her to fantasize?
“No,” he answered.
She was relieved. She’d been completely consumed by her own pleasure and hadn’t thought twice about the appearance of Hades at the end of her bed…until after.
“And will you promise to never use invisibility to spy on me?”
Hades studied her, as if he was trying to figure out why she was asking this of him. Finally, he answered.
“I promise.”
As he started to deal another hand, she asked another question. “Why do you let people think such horrible things about you?”
He shuffled the cards, and for a moment she thought he might not answer, but then he said, “I do not control what people think of me.”
“But you do nothing to contradict what they say about you,” she argued.
He raised a brow. “You think words have meaning?”
She stared at him, confused, and he dealt another hand.
“They are just that—words. Words are used to spin stories and craft lies, and occasionally they are strung together to tell the truth.”
“If words hold no weight for you, what does?”
Their eyes locked, and something changed in the air between them—something charged and powerful. He approached her, cards in hand, and placed them on the table—a royal flush.
Persephone stared at the cards. She had yet to reach for hers, but she didn’t need to. There was no doubt in her mind that he had won this round.
“Action, Lady Persephone. Action holds weight for me.”
She rose to meet him, and their lips collided. Hades’ tongue twined with hers, and his hands gripped her hips. He twisted, sitting down and dragging her into his lap, drawing the straps of her dress down, cupping her breasts, squeezing her nipples until they were taut between his fingers.
Persephone gasped and bit down hard on his lip, eliciting a growl that made her shudder. His lips left hers and descended upon her breasts, licking and sucking, grazing each nipple with his teeth. Persephone clung to him, fingers twining in his hair, freeing it from its binding, pulling the strands harder the longer he worked.
Then he yanked up her dress, and he hauled her onto the table.
“I have thought of you every night since you left me in the bath,” he said, spreading her legs wide, pressing in against her. “You left me desperate, swollen with need only for you,” he gritted out. For a moment, she thought he might leave her desperate in return, but then he said, “But I will be a generous lover.”
He lowered and kissed the inner part of her thigh, following with his swirling tongue until he reached her center. Then his hands spread her further and she felt him there—a testing tongue, then a deeper exploration, and she arched off the table, crying out. She reached for him, wishing to tangle her fingers in his dark hair, but he grabbed her wrists and held them against her sides and spoke against her. “I said I would be a generous lover, not a kind one.”
She writhed against him as he worked, pressing her hips into him just to feel him deeper, and he delivered, releasing her to sink his fingers into her damp center. She couldn’t stop the moans from escaping her mouth. He drove her to the edge, and she resisted, wanting to prolong this ecstasy as long as possible, but he grew fierce and wicked, and she called his name over and over again—a chant that matched his strokes until she came apart.
She had no time to collect herself. Hades reached for her, dragging her to his mouth. She tasted herself on his lips and reached for the buttons of his shirt, but Hades caught her wrists, stopping her. She was even more confused when he pulled the straps of her dress into place.
“What are you doing?” she demanded.
He dared to laugh. “Patience, darling,”
She was anything but patient—the heat between her legs had only been stoked, and she was desperate to be filled.
He gathered her into his arms and strolled out of his study, into the palace halls.
“Where are we going?” she asked, hands fisted into his shirt. She was ready to rip it from his body—to see him naked before her, to know him as intimately as he knew her.
“To my chambers,” he said.
“And you can’t teleport?”
“I’d prefer the whole palace know we aren’t meant to be disturbed.”
Persephone blushed. She only shared half of that wish—and it was to not be disturbed.
He held her close as he walked, and the reality of why they were going to his bedroom descended. There was no returning from this—she’d known that from the beginning. The evening they shared in the pool had been one of the most exhilarating experiences of her life, but this night would be one of the most devastating.
Their darkness would come together. After tonight, this god would always be a part of her.
After they were inside Hades’ chambers, he seemed to sense the change in her thoughts. He lowered her to the ground, keeping her close. She fit against his body perfectly, and she had the fleeting thought that they were always meant to come together like this.
“We don’t have to do this,” he said.
She reached for the lapels of his jacket and helped him out of it. “I want you. Be my first—be my everything.”
It was all the encouragement he needed. Hades’ lips met hers—softly at first, and then they came together more urgently. He tore away and turned her around, unzipping her dress. The red silk fell away, puddling on the floor at her feet. She still wore the heels but stood naked before him.
Hades groaned and walked around to face her. His shoulders were bunched, his hands fisted, and his jaw clenched, and she knew he was doing everything in his power to maintain control. “You are beautiful, my darling.”
He kissed her again, and Persephone fumbled with his shirt until Hades took over, making quick work of the buttons, then he reached for her, but she took a step back. For a moment, Hades eyes darkened, and then Persephone said, “Drop your glamour.”
He looked at her curiously.
She shrugged a shoulder. “You want to fuck me with this crown; I want to fuck a god.”
His smirk was devilish, and he answered, “As you wish.”
Hades’ glamour evaporated like smoke curling into the air. The black of his eyes melted to an electrifying blue, and two black gazelle horns spiraled out of his head. He seemed bigger than ever, filling the whole space with his dark presence.
She had no time to enjoy the look of him, because as soon as his glamour fell, he reached for her and lifted her off the floor, lowering her on the bed. He kissed her lips again, then her neck, trailing his tongue over one nipple and the other. He stayed there for a while, working each into a tight bud. Persephone tried to reach for the button of his pants, but he pulled away, laughing.