He laughed, but said nothing. She had little to fear. What they shared was unique. A gift he would treasure.
“What of your duties?” she asked. Her hand slid along his arm, her fingers stroking him gently. “Were you unhappy when the realms were divided?”
“With my lot, you mean?” he whispered, relaxing into her touch.
She nodded, slipping one arm about him and burrowing closer.
“No. It was fairly done. Things were different then.” He paused, burying his nose in her hair and breathing deep. “We were of one mind, the Olympians. We knew those under our rule would see us with fearful eyes, the Titans had made certain of that. After all, if we could defeat the Titans, what monsters were we? Drawing lots eased the mortals. If we could decide such matters with calm deliberation, we must be civilized... not violent tyrants.”
She nodded against his chest. “Wisely done.”
“My lot was no different than the rest, to me. It is necessary, helping a soul find its place in the afterlife.”
“You rule justly.”
“Perhaps. I know what mortals say. Some will not speak my name for fear I will send Thanatos to bring them to me before their time. Others fear death and the eternal horrors and suffering my realm holds.”
Persephone tilted her head back to meet his gaze. “I’ve never seen Tartarus, I confess, I hope I never do, but that is how I imagine it to be.”
He searched her eyes, “It does not begin to describe the depths of the abyss… A nightmare.”
“Nightmare?”
“One you cannot wake from. Such a place must exist to hold the blackened souls of the damned. And mark my words, Tartarus is full.” He felt her shiver and pressed her against him. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, knowing such actions damned him for the fool he was.
“Was your realm as it is today? When you came to be lord here?”
He shook his head. “It took a great many years… years of work, far from the world above and the life there, and Olympus.”
“You said as much before…” She turned, regarding him with curious green eyes. “Tell me, do you accept blame for Poseidon and… her… your wife’s actions?”
Anger was there, as always. Not at Persephone, but at himself. “I had a hand in it…”
“How?” Her hand pressed along the side of his face. “Tell me how you had a hand in what they did?” She sighed deeply. “You did what was honorable. You did what was right.” Her brow furrowed. “She was a fool.”
He shook his head even as he smiled at her. He pulled her onto his lap, unable to deny the feel of her against him… the very need and longing he denied flooded him. His words were rough as he whispered, “Mayhap you are a fool for thinking her wrong?”
His stomach tightened as her hands cupped his face and pulled him to hers. Her lips parted beneath him, inviting him eagerly.
“Then I am a fool,” she spoke against his lips. “And I will remain so, happily, to stay in your arms.”
Her words touched him, more than he wanted. Each one of them tore at the restraints on his heart. Each unleashed something he could not afford to feel – hope.
Chapter Sixteen
Her heart was so full of love for him.
She ached for Hades and all he had been through – for his poor wife too. And yet a part of her was happy Priska was gone. Not for the woman’s suffering or the grief that she’d endured through no fault of her own. Priska’s was a tragic tale, one that haunted her to think on too long. But if she’d lived, Persephone would not have her Hades. And he was hers.
He grabbed her, gripping her shoulders to draw her closer. She did not resist, but leaned into his chest. He had large hands, long fingers that stroked and caressed the length of her arms into the tangle of curls that fell about them. She arched, pressing herself against him as her lips clung to his. His lips traveled along her neck to nuzzle her earlobe, his teeth sent shivers down her spine. Thoughts of Priska, or anything beyond his touch upon her, vanished.
She pressed her own lips to his chest, her nose brushing the line of his neck.
He shuddered against her as he drew her peplos from her shoulder. He was warm against her, his hands gripping her hips as she straddled him. His mouth and breath brushed her face, his hands cupped and kneaded, and she was undone.
She rose, burying him deep within her, a strangled groan escaping her.
He was no more controlled than she, and she delighted in his frenzy. His hand tangled in her hair, while the other cupped her hips. He turned his face into her neck, releasing a ragged moan against her skin.
She let her head fall back, setting a rhythm both hard and deep. Each time she took him in, she longed for more. At length her body tightened, tensing as ripple after ripple of pure ecstasy coursed through her. She clung to him, catching his lips with hers to stifle her cry of release.
Her body throbbed, echoing her climax with near painful spasms. He was still hard inside her, wanting. Such a realization surprised her. She was only vaguely aware of his hands, holding her face as he kissed her tenderly.
She stilled for but a second and found her rhythm quick enough, determined to push him to pleasure. Instead, she was gripped by another climax. It swept over her suddenly, ripping a startled cry from her before she knew otherwise.
Every inch of her still pulsed. And still he’d been left wanting.
She stared at him, passion and frustration blurring her vision. He was so beautiful, his wide eyes fixed on her in fascination.
She moved, shuddering violently at the sweet friction she stirred. And pleased by the flare of his nostril and the tightening of his jaw.
She stopped, slipping her peplos over her head. She loosed his chiton, pushing it about his waist so that his chest was as bare as hers.
He swallowed, making her smile.
But the feel of his skin upon her reduced her again, making her moan hoarsely as her body surged and tightened in release once more.
“I wonder,” he ground out against her chest, his lips latching on to her nipple. “How long we might make this last, Goddess?”
She shuddered, horrified that her body would respond so quickly. She’d known it would be powerful, but she’d never thought her body could rule her so. She could not calm the fire in her blood or the delight of them joined so well. She did not want to.
“I know not.” Her words were husky to her own ears. “But I will see it through ‘til you’re well spent.”
He closed his eyes as his face twisted, almost pained. He grabbed her to him, wrapping his arms about her as if his life depended upon it. He rolled, sliding her beneath him and lifting her hips. He gripped her hard, cleaving to her once more. She was shuddering, raw and exposed from their lovemaking. She clung to him, whispering, “Hades… how I love you.”
His eyes were dark as he stooped, kissing her softly, sweetly as he found his release. She caught his cry, his breath mingling with her own.
He collapsed on top of her. Her hands rested against his back, her arms tangled about him.
She’d never been happier. She bit her lip, stifling the laughter that bubbled up inside of her. It escaped anyway, her soft giggles making him roll to one side. “No, stay–”
But he’d moved and they were no longer wrapped up in one another. She sighed, scowling at him. She’d not expected to hear his laughter ring out. When it did, all traces of her irritation vanished. He had such a glorious laugh.
She laughed too, poking him in the side and leaning over him. “Does my anger really amuse you?”
His hand stroked her cheek. “Are you truly angry?”
She sighed, resting her chin on his chest. “No. How could I be?” She rolled on to her back, sighing again.
“It was you who laughed first,” he reminded her.
She shook her head. “I laugh because I am happy. Happier than I’ve ever been. Because I am here, with you. The things you do to me…” She sighed. “My body is overwhelmed. And I am happy.”
She looked at him, staring up at his face above her. “And…you are gloriously handsome. I find looking at you very… pleasing.”
His eyes went round, the muscles in his throat working.
“Do I… Do I please you at all?” She covered her face, shaking her head. “No…” She sat up, wishing she’s not asked such a question.
She stood, refusing to look at him as she dropped her tunic and attempted an air of nonchalance. “Shall we swim?” She did not wait for an answer, but ran to the edge of the water. What had she done? Why had she asked such a thing?
She stepped into the warm water, the steam enveloping her as she descended into its soothing depths. The pond, a shallow hot springs, was deep enough to bathe in. But the waters were clear and shallow enough to see its sandy bottom. She curled her toes into the sand, sighing.
She turned, smiling at him. “It’s lovely.”
He hadn’t moved. He lay, resting on his elbow as his fingers plucked at the grass. His face was still, not rigid or hard, but thoughtful as he watched her. She was relieved. She would not lose this fragile truce they’d found. She must take better care with her words.
She called out to him, missing his closeness. “Will you join me?”
He sat up, shaking his head. But he said, while smiling that smile she loved so dearly, “I will.”
Her eyes feasted upon him as he stood. He was lean and tall, his muscles clearly visible with his every motion. She’d been right when she’d first spied him. He was carved, hard and jagged, as the mountains of Greece. Her eyes found his, deep and blue.
He walked into the water, lowering himself with a loud sigh.
“I agree,” she murmured, laying back in the water and closing her eyes.
The only thing that would make this day perfect was the heat of Apollo’s orb, hot upon her bare skin. She opened her eyes, staring up at the sky overhead. The sun was there, faded behind the layers of cloud and gray that separated this realm from that of the living. But to feel such warmth, she’d be there, in the land above and not here.
No, she thought with a glance at Hades, nothing could make this day more perfect.
###
Water hit Hades squarely in the face, followed by a peal of laughter.
He sputtered, wiping the water from his eyes as he turned to Persephone. Her hands covered her mouth as she continued to giggle. She peered at him over her hand, waiting.
He laughed, unable to stop himself.
And her face, the pure joy that shone from deep inside of her, tore his heart free. Damn her, she left him no choice.
She splashed him again, her laughter giddy as she dove beneath the water.
He loved her.
He stared at the pond’s surface, saw her lithe form dart away from him under its depths, and swam after her. He had no idea what he’d do when he caught her, he just knew he needed to touch her. This realization did little to provide him comfort, or happiness. His feelings meant he was vulnerable, and that was a weakness he’d taken pains to avoid these long years.
Fear. True fear, threatened to consume him. He would lose her, in time. He knew it.
She rose up amongst a shower of drops raining down on him. He pulled her into his arms.
“Persephone,” he murmured, noting the dimple in her cheek, the way her curls were almost black from the water, and her smile… She’d a smile like no other.
And he loved her.
Her face grew serious as he regarded her. Too serious.
He planted his hand upon her head and submerged her beneath the water. She came up sputtering, her eyes wide with astonished outrage.
“You… you…” she blinked, pushing her sodden curls from her face.
“Yes?” he asked, pulling her against him again. He could not deny himself. She slid, silky and soft, along his chest. His hands pressed along the line of her back, gently molding himself to her.
“You…”
“Answered your challenge?”
She stopped, her open mouth curving into a bright smile. “You did.”
He sighed. He loved her.
She leaned forward, hesitant, and offered her mouth to him.
He bent his head, kissing her softly. There was passion, yes; he suspected he’d always want her. But the tenderness he felt, the feeling of wholeness and peace… She’d given this to him. Not through the joining of their bodies, but through the joining of their hearts.
Her words tickled his lips, “Your arms… They feel nice. I like it when you hold me so.”
His heart thundered as her fingers twined into the curls at the nape of his neck. “Do you?”
“I do. They are strong and capable arms.” She leaned back, meeting his gaze. “And gentle.”
“Only with you.”
The words seemed to startle her. They startled him all the more.
She blinked, her green eyes intense. Her breath was unsteady, fanning across his shoulders and chest. “Only with me?”
Did it matter? It changed nothing. If he told her of his newly discovered affection… No, it was no new discovery. He’d known it, felt it in his bones, but refused to give it credence. Did he dare? No. Admitting his love to himself was one thing. Telling her of his love was another.
He smiled, shaking his head as he lifted her quickly and tossed her into the water. She landed with a squeal and a splash, breaking the spell that held them.
But her squeals brought her defender. Theron arrived, the fur on his back rigid and his ears pricked and alert.
When she broke the surface, she was laughing. “You disarm me with your charm…” she gasped. “And near drowned me…”
“You would not drown.” He watched Theron circle the edge of the pond and then settle down and rest his head on his legs, his golden eyes watching them.
She followed his gaze, smiling when she saw the dog. “Hello, Theron,” she cooed.
The hound lifted his head, his tail thumping in response to her adoring tone.
“You’ve made him a lap dog.” Hades splashed the animal.
Theron blinked, but did not move.
She shook her head. “A lap dog? You wound him. Can you not see the offense upon his regal face?”
Theron yawned, resting his head once more.
Her laughter filled him, warming him.
“So I see,” he murmured.
She shook her head and swam to him. “Hades?”
His name from her lips… He was becoming more besotted by the minute. He scowled.
She stopped. “Are you angry with me? I admit I am fond of Theron, but I would not take him from your side…”
He shook his head. “No, no.”
“Then what?” She didn’t move, waiting just beyond his reach.
He stopped himself from reaching for her. He shook his head again.
She closed the distance between them, wrapping her arms about his neck with ease. “I am hungry.”
He shivered lightly as her nipples brushed across his chest. “For food?”
She laughed again, throwing her head back as her arms tightened about him. “Yes… for food. For now.”
###
“Do you think I’d have left you? My men? Men loyal to me?” Erysichthon’s voice met silence.
No sound but the wind reached him. The forest grew darker with each passing second, yet they remained hidden from him. He would need them. He would need their help for his plan to work.
“I come to you now, seeking your allegiance.” He paused. Perhaps it would be better not to ask too much of them. Not yet. Better to tempt them with words, soothe their wounded pride.
He spoke clearly, his words ringing out. “I would see you avenged. See us all avenged.”
One shadow moved, then another, separating from the trees and moving towards him. They were cautious, wary… He could not blame them. It was a strange existence, this in between. And they were as trapped as he was. He’d chosen his fat
e, forbidding Kadmos and Barak from performing the funeral rites that would send him into the Underworld. But these men had not. Their bodies had been left to rot… A circumstance they might choose to hold him accountable for, if he were not careful.
All of them were trapped here, for one hundred years. One hundred years of living without life. Only then could Charon would give them passage into the Land of the Dead. It was decreed by the Fates.
“My lord Erysichthon,” one spoke, his voice gravelly and rough. “The war is over. No battles have been fought. How then, did you meet your end?”
“Taras? Taras, my friend.” He paused, happy to see one of his personal guards amongst them. He continued, speaking earnestly. “Demeter cursed me. She saw me die a low death. One unfitting the king of such a great people. It is through Olympus’ part that we stand here, souls adrift.”
“Yet you speak of avenging our deaths?” another asked.
“Against the Gods?”
Erysichthon held up his hand, comforted by its solidifying appearance. The dark was thickening, and so were they. “One God. The very God who closed his realm to you. The very God that took Persephone from me, that turned Demeter from us all. Hades…”
“You would fight Hades?”
“I know you all.” His vision sharpened as the night fell heavily. “I see you. Taras, Sartirios, Panoptes. I know you, know the strength of your arms…”
Panoptes spoke, “I’d not thought to use my strength against the Gods.”
“What have you to fear?” Erysichthon asked. “What can they do to you? That has not already been done?”
There was a hushed murmur then, and more shadows joined him. The forest was thick with them, so many souls – embittered and betrayed. An army. His army.
“Your wives and children are left without protection. Demeter has seen the crops fade and wither. So their bellies are empty as well. When I begged for her aid, prayed and sacrificed all, she would not hear me. We must make her listen.”
Taras spoke then, “And this will change?”
Erysichthon nodded. “If Persephone returns to me, Demeter returns to us. There is nothing impossible, nothing beyond our reach.”
For the Love of Hades (The Loves of Olympus) Page 19
