by Lucas, Naomi
Cerberus frowned.
He ached, staring at her, unable to do anything but. Cyane’s submissive posture rushed his veins with blood.
It would be so easy…
She had yet to lift her eyes back up from his feet, and the ache he endured gathered in his loins, testing him.
Cyane shook unwillingly.
She’d forgotten that the same being that made her feel safe was also a creature that took demands and requests with ease. His anger reminded her that she was alone in a place meant for the divine. Tension seized her. She searched for the courage to look back at Cerberus but feared his face and the confusion it wrought.
His eyes bore into her flesh, and she tightened her arms against herself. A bloom of warmth rose to her cheeks as the tension held. The intimidation. The unease. The pounding, waiting ache of her sex that still wanted to take his power inside her and ride it straight into hell.
I can’t take it anymore. She met his gaze.
Cerberus’s eyes glowed with fire. His lips twisted and parted. She inhaled sharply. This time, her eyes could linger on his face a moment longer.
“Eat,” he ordered, waving his hand outward. The table where his helmet and other glove sat was now covered in a variety of fruit. “And get some sleep.”
She glanced at the bed to find it even more luscious than before, with several of his hounds sitting atop it, watching her. Their eyes equally as bloody, as ruby red as him. They truly were his.
“You will not return to the ballroom until this new day is over,” he said.
A final gift. “Thank you.” Her voice came out a croak.
The tension grew again, and his gaze bore into her naked flesh, threatening to root her back to the spot. Cyane gritted her teeth, exhaustion flooding her being. She unrooted her feet, bypassed the table, and climbed into the bed, putting herself between the hounds. They settled around her as she slipped under the blanket and pulled it to her chin.
She peeked out from under the blankets to find Cerberus. He appeared as tense and uncomfortable as she was.
She wanted him to come to her, to finish what they’d started. In the dark, at least. His face made her stomach turn even if it was an ethereally handsome one. She didn’t have the courage to beckon him, didn’t even know if he wanted her the way she wanted him.
Warmth was all he spoke of… though she still could feel the phantom touch of his palms sensually exploring her chest.
When the room felt like it ought to erupt into awkward, tension-fueled flames that screamed for their bodies to come together, the darkness rushed in around him, and he disappeared. Her heart fell as she searched the shadowy corners for his presence. His helmet and glove were gone.
Cyane slipped farther under the blanket, wishing the darkness would take her away too.
A Soul, a Drink, a Fire
Cerberus returned to the ballroom to find that Hades and the resurrected Trojan horse were gone. The only ones that remained were those who drew power from the carnage that was left behind and those who mourned the dead.
Hecate, who cried over her Underworld Lampade nymphs and followers, the Keres who sought the souls that lingered, and the few servants that cleaned the mess the higher beings ignored.
The sheer curtains that remained were soaked with blood, turning them into crimson, wet ribbons that the surviving lamiae tore with their fanged teeth.
Cerberus turned around as one of his hounds approached him with a fresh wraith of a soul. The hound dropped it at his feet, and Cerberus knelt to suck it up into his belly. Some of his hunger abated.
But it was not as satisfying as he needed it to be.
“Sweet Cerberus, I’ve missed you.”
He stiffened as Melinoe’s arms drew around him to hug him from behind. Any remaining warmth he carried from Cyane was replaced with ice.
“Melinoe,” he muttered, detaching himself from the goddess’s embrace. He turned to face her. She still wore the black dress from earlier. She was accompanied by an entourage of ghosts screaming and crying behind her, ones that didn’t disappear when looked at directly. He wasn’t the only one who’d scavenged from the remnants of Hades’s entertainment. “Where is our lord?”
The goddess’s eyes darkened. “How should I know? I assume he went to that hidden study of his.”
Cerberus moved to leave.
Melinoe grabbed him. “Why does my father ignore me? Why does he hate me so much?” Tears filled her eyes as Cerberus shook her off him again. Her grip, despite its iciness, was far too similar to Cyane’s for comfort.
“I can’t answer that, ask him for yourself.”
“But you know! I know you do! If anyone knows Hades’s mind, it can only be you. Please… sweet Cerberus, my love. Tell me what you know.”
Love? The word coming from Melinoe’s lips sounded like rot. He knew the answer to her question, as did several others in the court, Hecate included. But a creature that disgusted Hades, even a royal goddess, disgusted all his followers, too.
“You’re the only one who talks to me, you’re the only one who listens when Mother isn’t around,” she whispered.
Melinoe reached for him again, and he drew the darkness toward him, vanishing before her touch could spoil his mind. Hades’s daughter quickly fell from his thoughts as he arrived in his lord’s study.
Hades sat in his usual chair by the fire, where only embers burned, with a cup of nectar in his hand. Cerberus moved to sit down across from him.
“Three more days until my queen descends,” Hades said.
“Yes.”
They sat in companionable silence, watching the fire, close to dying, but never quite guttering out completely. It continued glowing, often sparking embers of frustration as Hades’s will kept it alive.
The subtle heat that it gave off made Cerberus long for warmth to return to his body. If he threw his hands in the hearth, would he purify Melinoe’s touch and make Cyane’s return? He pondered it for a while, but decided not to risk the ring he wore around his thumb.
Fire wasn’t his friend after all. The dark gloom and flowing waters of Styx were the forces that embraced him. He was drawn to water, not fire.
Cerberus pulled his gaze from the hearth. “You may have new enemies. At this very moment, Hecate mourns the loss of her followers.”
Hades swirled his drink. “When a god gives a gift, it will always make others jealous—or worse yet, feel entitled to my attention. Besides, Persephone never liked having so many carrion-eaters around.”
Cerberus bristled. Persephone didn’t like death at all, especially murder.
“So the gift was ultimately for our queen,” Hades said, leaning back.
“It was as much for her as it was for you.” Cerberus reached up, took off his helmet, and set it on the floor by his seat.
Hades’s gaze moved to his face, and his mouth curled into a smile. “As handsome as ever, my friend. Our mortal guest has changed you. How very fun.”
“She challenges my loyalty.”
“Sex has a way of doing that, doesn’t it? I’ve always thought our dear, delectable Aphrodite might be the most powerful of us all.”
Cerberus’s head tilted. “Sex?”
“Sex, the joining of two bodies, the battle of give and take, the horrid twisting thrill that clouds one’s mind as they seek to dominate or be dominated. To take control or to relinquish it. Sex brings the highest men to their lowest and the lowest men to their highest. Gods, mortals, animals, none are spared this dilemma. None are immune to Aphrodite.”
The thrill I feel, the hardening in my loins.
“Have you taken our mortal to your bed? I know you watch her constantly and that she sleeps in your haven.”
“No, I have...not.”
Cyane's imperfect, curvy figure filled his head. It took an immense amount of willpower to keep himself from following her into the bed, from feeling the rest of her. Her long, wavy brown hair begged his fingers to toy with it, and he longed to cup her fer
tile breasts in his palms.
“Do you not want her for yourself?” The question burned his throat with distaste. Hades would never share, never, and if he did have intentions for the mortal like Cerberus thought from the beginning...
A picture rose in his head of Hades seducing Cyane as Cerberus guarded them. He imagined himself as Hades, and the possibility filled Cerberus with as much displeasure as it did exhilaration. Cerberus and Hades were the same in physical form, but to picture Hades having her, while he couldn’t…While the mirror-image played out… Cerberus wanted to rake his nails down his face and destroy the connection.
He understood now why Cyane fell away from him. Why she’d reacted with so much fear.
He tightened his hand into a fist and grazed her ring of hair. No wonder she insists on seeing her tribute. Trust? What was trust but a lie with a visage like his? Cerberus’s face wasn’t his. It had a history that wasn’t his own.
Hades smiled slowly. “Why? I’ve already told you why. She’s here to serve.”
Cerberus flashed his teeth. “Who will she serve?”
“You’ve changed.”
“Have I?”
“I must confess,” Hade's smile dropped, and he sipped his drink. “I didn’t see this outcome when I planned to bring the mortal here. But now I feel magnanimous, and since I know you will never betray me, I will not take offense to your questioning. Or the curiosity that plagues you regarding my actions.
“I may be supreme, but I suffer the same wiles of desire as everyone else. We have more in common than you think, and whoever you fuck, I get to fuck too, my brother. It’s quite a delicious notion, sharing my flesh with you.”
Cerberus stiffened angrily.
“A new god has not been born in ages, not since the mortals turned their back on us and chose to believe in false gods. This decay on our kind has been frustrating.” Hades scowled. “The goddesses deny us their flesh. I had no choice but to steal and coerce my queen, and look what that has given me.” He waved his hand. “Nothing. Nothing but villainous lies, treason, and power plays.”
Hades handed Cerberus his half-drunk cup of nectar, and Cerberus took it, swallowing the rest. He played with hellfire and needed the liquid to soothe.
“Melinoe is eager for your affection,” Cerberus muttered.
“My...daughter,” Hades hissed, snake-like, “is nothing more than a nuisance. I will not fuck my children as my brother does. Melinoe doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. She’s nothing. Will never be an heir. My queen will give me heirs, true heirs. I have picked her, and my choice is final. I have waited long enough for her affection to return, and Cyane—that mortal—will be what Persephone needs to bare her cunt to me again. Her cunt to me! Me! And not her father Zeus! Even if my brother took her wearing my face!”
The embers burst from the hearth into screaming flames, illuminating both Hades and Cerberus with shades of golden red.
Questions filled Cerberus’s mouth, but he swallowed them like he had the nectar, nodding instead.
Hades’s breaths were labored with rage. “Cyane is to serve me. She is a means to an end, like all mortals, so do what you will with her, but know when the time comes, she must come to me.” He sighed wearily as if all the weight of the world rested on his shoulders. And perhaps, in a way, it did. “Leave me now Cerberus, before I change my mind.”
Cerberus grabbed his helmet and stood. “Thank you, my lord.” He meant it. He drew the darkness to him.
“If I had given you a woman’s body, would you have given me an heir?”
Cerberus’s brows furrowed at the question, then he nodded. “I would give you my life.”
Hades’s smile returned. “We would’ve made a monstrous god, the likes of Typhon, you and I. Perhaps it’s best you always remain within the body I have bestowed upon you. Yes.”
A new, full cup of nectar appeared in Hades’s hand. He turned back to the fire.
This time when the darkness consumed Cerberus, he wasn’t stopped.
The Worship of a Mortal
He watched Cyane sleep.
Her chest lifted and fell with each soft breath. His hounds curled around her on every side, protecting her as they protected the gates of the Underworld. They were him, after all, always feeling as he did. Through their snouts, Cerberus smelled her womanly scent, and through their sharp eyes, he saw her because they still belonged to him.
Now I know this thrill, this terrible hunger. Hades’s words drifted in and out of his thoughts. He finally understood some of the motivations for Hades’s actions, and that eased Cerberus if only a little. But it also made his belly burn with acid and his jaw ache.
I should tell her, prepare her. She will serve better if she knows what to expect.
Cyane’s head fell to the side with a muted sigh, baring her neck.
He unclenched his hands and removed his gloves, setting them on a small table next to the bed. He caressed the ring of her hair and turned back to watch her.
If he told her, he’d be telling her she’d never be free of this place. He’d once offered her freedom in return for following him, and he hadn’t meant to lie. He wasn’t made to be devious, but these circumstances had changed him.
Hades had been correct in his observation.
Cerberus pulled off his helmet and set it beside his gloves.
Her eyes twitched behind her lids, and he leaned down to study them, wondering if she dreamed of him or if nightmares filled her head. Either way, he wanted it to be of him, only him, and not his lord.
Cerberus reached out and cupped her neck.
Her eyes snapped open, mouth parting, and she jerked up under the blankets, pulling them to her chest with sudden, startling fear. Beautiful.
“C-Cerberus?” she gasped.
He showed her his hand, and her gaze flickered from it to his face, her pulse grew wild under his palm. She gripped his wrist with one hand, holding the covers up with her other one. An eternity seemed to pass before she lowered her guard. She swallowed under his hand and licked her lips.
He released her and unbuckled the leather knot at his shoulder.
Cyane sat up straighter as he released the buckles along his armor. Like his helmet the day before, it had been ages since he’d removed it. He took off the chest piece, feeling the cool air of Tartarus drift across his skin like a long-awaited lovers touch.
He made short work of his vambraces, boots, and pants until he was as naked as Cyane. His cock sprang heavy, jutting from his groin. The soft glow of gloom fell upon their skin.
“What are you doing?” she whispered.
The hounds, with their labored breaths, filled the room with their panting. They were free to react in the animalistic ways he worked to contain. He sent them away, back to the shadows where they could guard from a distance.
Some gods loved to fuck in animal forms, delighting in the taboo, but he wanted to come to her this first time as a male, one she equally feared and submitted to. Cyane showed no submission towards his hounds.
Cerberus grabbed the blanket she held and ripped it from her grip. Her arms flew across her chest as her legs curled under her. Gorgeous brown waves fell over her shoulders and down her chest and arms.
He now understood his body’s reaction, even if the sensation was new.
Cyane’s eyes dipped, trailing over his body.
Cerberus knew what she saw. He knew what Hades’s male form represented, his might and absolute power. A lord did not represent the extremity of dominance without appearing the part.
His mouth watered in response to her unease as she studied his body. Her eyes darted to his hand, to the ring wrapped around his thumb.
‘Cyane is to serve me. She is a means to an end, like all mortals, so do what you will with her.’
Hades was in his head, always.
“I’ve returned to feel you,” he said, placing his knee on the bed.
Cyane, grabbing a pillow from behind, slipped it in front of her, cove
ring herself as she moved back. “Why?” she whispered.
“The warmth you gave me has left. I’d...like to feel that way again.” He wouldn’t move closer until she gave him the answer he was looking for. “Let me touch you.” He didn’t tell her that their time together might come to an end, that his hunger for her had to be sated now or they risked losing the opportunity.
He only told her what he desired. He waited.
A strange sort of fear filled him, one that warned she may turn cold if he took what wasn’t given. Death was often taken, and it was always frigid.
He overcame the urge in his shaft and stepped back from the bed. “It’s your choice.”
A short time passed before she made her decision. She loosened her grip on the pillow. “Are you certain it’s me you want?”
How could she ask that? Did she not see his need? Feel it herself? The smell of her arousal was thick in the space between them. He only wished he could take her while she knelt at his feet, while she submitted to him with downcast eyes. “Yes,” he said eagerly. “I’d kill a thousand men for you and lay their heads before you.”
Her eyes widened. “Okay.”
Her breathless voice made his mouth water.
Cyane reached out her hand, and he took it, sliding into the bed next to her. Cerberus drew away the pillow and shifted so he was atop her. Cyane’s unusual sunlit scent captivated him. Fresh and new and so unlike the dark chasm he knew.
He held himself up on his elbow as he pushed her legs down with his free hand, forcing her body to align with his. She was tense, but not with resistance—with something new. He tucked her arms beneath his chest, petting her as he adjusted her to his liking, finding enjoyment in little hairs that lifted from her skin and the soft sounds that fell from her lips.
The blunt dagger of his cock rubbed over her thighs and pelvis. It was the coldest part of him. He pressed it between her warm legs, which were tightly together, and groaned as he forced the increasingly painful appendage in. Her nails bit into his chest. He didn’t understand her rigidity.
