By the time Persephone returned to the palace, she still felt unsettled. The darkness of her doubt swelled, pressing against her skull, and her magic pulsed beneath her skin, making her feel achy and exhausted. She rang for tea and wandered into the library, hoping that reading would take her mind off her conversation with Yuri.
Curling into one of the large chairs near the fireplace, Persephone leafed through Hecate’s copy of Witchcraft and Mayhem. It was one of several assignments from the Goddess of Magic, who was helping her learn to control her erratic power.
It wasn’t working as fast as she hoped.
Persephone had waited a long time for her powers to manifest, and when they did, it had been during a heated argument with Hades. Since then, she had managed to make flowers bloom but had trouble channeling the appropriate amount of magic. She had also discovered her ability to teleport was glitchy which meant she didn’t always end up where she intended. Hecate said it was just a matter of practice, but it still made her feel like a failure, and it was for these reasons, she’d decided not to use magic in the Upperworld.
Not until she got it under control.
So, in preparation for her first lesson with Hecate, she studied, learning the history of magic, alchemy, and the diverse and terrifying powers of the gods, yearning for the day when she could use her power as easily as she breathed.
Suddenly, warmth spread across her skin, raising the hair on the back of her neck and arms. Despite the heat, she shivered, her breath growing shallow.
Hades was near, and her body knew it.
She wanted to groan as an ache began low in her stomach.
Gods. She was insatiable.
“I thought I would find you here,” Hades’ voice came from above, and she looked up to find him standing behind her. His smokey eyes met hers as he bent to kiss her, his hand cupping her jaw. It was a possessive hold, and a passionate kiss that left her lips raw when he pulled away.
“How was your day, darling?”
His endearment stole her breathe.
“Good.”
The corners of Hades’ mouth lifted and as he spoke, his eyes dropped to her lips.
“I hope I’m not disturbing you. You appeared quite entranced by your book.”
“No.” She said quickly, then cleared her throat. “I mean…it’s just something Hecate assigned.”
“May I?” he asked, releasing her from his grip and holding his hand out for the book.
Wordlessly, she gave it to him and watched as the God of the Dead rounded her chair and leafed through the book. There was something incredibly devilish about the way he looked, a storm of darkness dressed head to toe in black.
“When do you begin training with Hecate?” he asked.
“This week,” she said. “She gave me homework.”
“Hmm.” He was silent, keeping his eyes on the book as he spoke. “I heard you greeted new souls today.”
Persephone straightened, unable to tell if he was irritated with her.
“I was walking with Yuri when I saw them waiting on the bank of the Styx.”
Hades looked up, eyes like firelight.
“You took a soul outside Asphodel?” There was a hint of surprise in his voice.
“It’s Yuri, Hades. Besides, I do not know why you keep them isolated.”
“So they do not cause trouble.”
Persephone giggled, but stopped when she saw the look in Hades’ eyes. He stood between her and the fireplace, ignited like an angel. He really was magnificent with his high cheekbones, well-manicured beard, and full lips. His long hair was pulled into a knot at the back of his head. She liked it that way because she liked taking it down, liked running her fingers through it, liked seizing it when he was inside her.
At that thought, the air became heavier, and she noticed Hades’ chest rose with a sharp inhaled as if he could sense the change in her thoughts. She licked her lips and forced herself to focus on the conversation at hand.
“The souls in Asphodel never cause trouble.”
“You think I am wrong.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement and he didn’t seem at all surprised. Their whole relationship had started because Persephone thought he was wrong.
“I think you do not give yourself enough credit for having changed, and therefore do not give the souls enough credit for recognizing it.”
The god was silent for a long moment. “Why did you greet the souls?”
“Because they were afraid, and I didn’t like it.”
Hades’ mouth twitched. “Some of them should be afraid, Persephone.”
“Those who should, will be, no matter the greeting they have from me.”
Mortals know what led to eternal imprisonment in Tartarus, she thought.
“The Underworld is beautiful, and you care about your people’s existence, Hades. Why should the good fear such a place? Why should they fear you?”
“As it were, they still fear me. You were the one who greeted them.”
“You could greet them with me,” she offered.
Hades smirk remained, and his expression softened. “As much as you find disfavor with the title of queen, you are quick to act as one.”
Persephone froze for a moment, caught between the fear of Hades’ anger and the anxiety of being called queen.
“Does...that displease you?”
“Why would it displease me?”
“I am not queen,” she said, rising from her seat and approaching him, plucking the book from his hands. “I also cannot figure out how you feel about my actions.”
“You will be my queen,” Hades said fiercely, almost like he was trying to convince himself it was true. “The Fates have declared it.”
Persephone bristled, her earlier thoughts returning in a rush. How was she supposed to ask Hades why he wanted her as his queen? Worse, why did she feel like she needed him to answer that question? She turned and disappeared into the stack to hide her reaction.
“Does that displease you?” Hades asked, appearing in front of her, blocking her path like a mountain.
Persephone startled but recovered quickly.
“No,” she replied, pushing past him.
Hades followed close.
As she returned the book to its place on the shelf, she spoke. “Although, I would rather you want me as queen because you love me, not because the Fates have degreed it.”
Hades waited until she faced him to speak. He was frowning. “You doubt my love?”
“No!” Her eyes widened at the conclusion he’d come to, then her shoulders fell. “But...I suppose we cannot avoid what others may perceive about our relationship.”
“And what do others say, exactly?” He stood so close she could smell spice and smoke and a touch of winter air. It was the scent of his magic.
A shoulder rose and fell as she said, “That we are only together because of the Fates. That you have only chosen me because I am a goddess.”
“Have I given you reason to think such things?”
She stared, unable to answer. She didn’t want to say that Yuri had planted the idea in her head. The thought had been there before—a seed planted early on. Yuri had merely watered it and now it was growing, as wild as the black vines that sprouted from her magic.
Hades spoke faster, demanding. “Who has given you doubts?”
“I have only just started to consider—”
“My motives?”
“No—”
He narrowed his eyes. “It seems that way.”
Persephone took a step away, the bookcase pressing into her back. “I am sorry I said anything.”
“It is too late for that.”
Persephone glared. “Will you punish me for speaking my mind?”
“Punish?” Hades tilted his head to the side, and he moved closer, hips leaning into hips, leaving no space between them. “I am interested to hear how you think I might punish you.”
Those words wound her tight, and despite the heat they inspired, she
managed to glare at him.
“I am interested in having my questions answered.”
Hades jaw tightened. “Remind me again of your question.”
She blinked. Was she asking him if he had only chosen her because she was a goddess? Was she asking him if he loved her?
She took a deep breath and peered up at him through her lashes. “If there were no Fates, would you still want me?”
She couldn’t place the look on Hades’ face. His eyes were a laser, melting her chest and her heart and her lungs. She couldn’t breath as she waited for him to speak—and he didn’t. Instead, he reached for her with one hand and clasped her jaw. His body vibrated—she could feel the violence beneath, and for a moment she wondered what the King of the Underworld intended to unleash.
Then his grip softened, and his fingers splayed across her cheek, eyes lowering to her lips.
“Do you know how I knew the Fates made you for me?” His voice was a hoarse whisper, a tone he used in the darkness of their room after they made love. Persephone shook her head slowly, ensnared by his gaze. “I could taste it on your skin and the only thing I regret is that I have lived so long without you.”
His lips trailing along her jaw and across her cheek. She held her breath, leaning into his touch, seeking his mouth, but instead of kissing her, he stepped away.
His sudden distance left her unsteady, and she leaned against the bookshelf for support.
“What was that?” she demanded, glaring at him.
He offered a dark chuckle, the corners of his mouth lifting. “Foreplay.”
The he reached forward, swept her into his arms and over his shoulder. Persephone gave a small yelp of surprise, and demanded, “What are you doing?”
“Proving that I want you.”
He strolled out of the library and into the hall.
“Put me down, Hades!”
“No.”
She had a feeling he was grinning. His hand crept up between her thighs, parting her flesh, and diving inside of her. She gripped the fabric of his jacket so she wouldn’t fall off his shoulder.
“Hades!” she moaned.
He chuckled, and she hated him for it. She released his long locks and yanked on the strands, pulling his head back, seeking his lips. Hades’ was obliging and braced her against the nearest wall offering a vicious kiss before pulling away to growl in her ear.
“I will punish you until you scream, until you come so hard around my cock, you are left in no doubt of my affection.”
His words stole her breath and her magic awakened, warming her skin.
“Make good on your promises, Lord Hades,” she said against his mouth.
Then the wall beneath Persephone gave way and she yelped as Hades stumbled forward. He managed to prevent them both from landing on the floor, and once they were steady, he guided her to her feet. She recognized the way he held her—protectively, an arm wrapped high on her shoulders. She craned her neck and discovered they were in the dining room. The banquet table was crowded with Hades’ staff, including Thanatos, Hecate, and Charon.
The wall they’d been pressed against was a door.
Hades cleared his throat, and Persephone buried her head into Hades’ chest.
“Good evening,” Hades said, she was surprised by how calm he sounded when he spoke. He wasn’t even breathless, though she could feel his heart beating hard against her ear. She thought Hades would excuse himself and vanish, but instead he said, “The Lady Persephone and I are famished, and we wish to be alone.”
She froze and jabbed him in the side.
What was he doing?
All at once, people started to move, clearing away plates, silverware, and huge platters of untouched food.
“Good evening, my lady—my lord.”
They filed out of the dining room with glittering eyes and wide smiles. Persephone kept her gaze lowered, a perpetual blush on her cheeks as Hades’ residents paraded into the hall to dine elsewhere in the palace.
When they were alone, Hades wasted no time leaning into her, guiding her back until her legs hit the table.
“You cannot be serious.”
“As the dead,” he answered.
“The…dining room?”
“I’m quite hungry, aren’t you?”
Yes.
But she had no time to respond. Hades lifted her onto the table, stepped between her legs, and knelt as a servant would kneel to their queen. Her dress rose as his hands trailed up her calves. He teased, lips skimming the inside of her thighs before his mouth found her core.
Persephone arch off the table and her breath hitched as Hades worked, his tongue ruthless in its assault, his short beard creating a delicious friction against her sensitive flesh. She reached for him, tangling her fingers into his hair, writhing beneath this touch.
Hades held her tighter, his fingers digging into her flesh to hold her in place. A guttural sound escaped her when his lips fastening around her cleft and his fingers replaced his thrusting tongue, filling and stretching until pleasure exploded throughout her body.
She was sure she was glowing.
This was rapture, euphoria, ecstasy.
And it was all interrupted by a knock at the door.
Persephone froze and tried to sit up, but Hades held her in place and growled looking up at her from his place between her legs.
“Ignore it.” It was spoken like a command, his eyes ignited like embers.
He continued ruthlessly, moving deeper, harder, faster. Persephone could barely stay on the table, she could barely breath, feeling as though she were clawing her way to the surface of the Styx again, desperate for air, but content in the knowledge that this death would be a happy one.
But the knock continued, and a hesitant voice called out, “Lord Hades?”
Persephone couldn’t tell who was on the other side of the door, but they sounded nervous and they had reason to be, because the look on Hades face was murderous.
This is how he looks when he faces souls in Tartarus, she thought.
Hades sat back on his heels.
“Go away,” he snapped.
There was a beat of silence. Then the voice said, “It’s important, Hades.”
Even Persephone noted to heightened alarm in the person’s tone. Hades sighed and stood, taking her face between his hands.
“A moment, my darling.”
“You won’t hurt him, will you?”
“Not too terribly.”
He didn’t smile as he stepped into the hallway.
Persephone felt ridiculous sitting on the edge of the table, so she slipped off, adjusted her skirts, and started to pace the extravagant dining room. Her first impression of this room had been that it was over-the-top. The ceiling boasted several unnecessary crystal chandeliers, the walls were adorned in gold, and Hades’ chair looked like a throne at the head of the table. To top it off, he rarely dined in this room, often preferring to take his meals elsewhere in the palace. That was one reason she’d decided to use it during the Solstice Celebration—all this beauty would not go to waste.
Hades returned. He seemed frustrated, his jaw flexed, and his eyes glittered with a different kind of intensity. He stopped a few inches from her, hands in his pockets.
“Is everything okay?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said. “And no. Ilias has made me aware of a problem better dealt with sooner than later.”
She stared at him, waiting, but he didn’t explain.
“When will you be back?”
“An hour. Maybe two.”
She frowned, and Hades’ touched her chin so that her eyes were level with his. “Trust, my darling, leaving you is the hardest decision I make each day.”
“Then don’t,” she said, placing her hands around his waist. “I’ll go with you.”
“That is not wise.” His voice was gruff, and Persephone’s brows knit together.
“Why not?”
“Persephone—”
“It’s
a simple question,” she interrupted.
“It isn’t,” he snapped, and then sighed, running his fingers through his loose hair.
She stared. He had never lost this temper quite like this. What had him so agitated? She thought about pushing for an answer, but knew she would get nowhere, so instead, she relent.
“Fine,” she took a step away, creating distance between them. “I’ll be here when you return.”
Hades frowned. “I will make it up to you.”
She arched a brow and commanded, “Swear it.”
Hades’ eyes simmer beneath the glow of the crystal lights.
“Oh, darling. You don’t need to extract an oath. Nothing will keep me from fucking you.”
CHAPTER II - A TOUCH OF DUPLICITY
Persephone’s body vibrated, warmed from the spark Hades had ignited. Without supervision, the flame had spread, consuming her whole body. She sought a distraction and wandered outside where she walked through the garden, consumed by the smell of damp soil and sweet blossoms. She caressed petals and leaves as she passed until she came to the edge of the plot where a wild field of yellowing grass danced, encouraged by a whispered breezed.
She took off at a run, orange flowers bloomed at her feet as she sailed across the field. She didn’t have to focus on using her magic. It radiated from her, unfiltered and uncontrolled. Hades’ Dobermans joined her, chasing each other until she came to a halt at the edge of Hecate’s meadow. The goddess sat cross-legged outside her cottage with her eyes closed. Persephone wasn’t sure if she was meditating or casting a spell. If Persephone had to guess, she’d say the Goddess of Witchcraft was probably cursing some mortal in the Upperworld for some heinous deed against women.
Cerberus, Typhon, and Orthrus did not follow Persephone as she approached the goddess.
“Sated already?” Hecate asked, her eyes were still closed.
Persephone would never forgive Hades for what had gone down in front of his staff.
“Does it look like it?” she grumbled.
Sexual frustration was making her grumpy. Hecate opened one eye, and then the other.
“Ah,” she said. “Care to train instead?”
“Only if I get to blow something up.”
A Touch of Ruin (Hades & Persephone Book 2) Page 2
