Chapter 13
Chapter
Thirteen
P ersephone
Maya leads me through the palace—a maze I’ll soon need to learn—to the wide arched double doors of the enormous entrance. Standing on glossy black tile beneath an onyx chandelier fashioned to resemble what I can only imagine is bone, the flame that dances over the Hydra’s sacrifice casts shadows that whisper ominously throughout the grand space. They draw goosebumps to the surface of my flesh, and Maya responds with a confounded frown.
“Are you cold?”
“I just got a chill.”
“But—but it’s so warm.”
The Underworld really is warm. The heat is nearly tropical, even under the unending stretch of night. “I’m fine.”
She doesn’t look convinced, even as she gestures to the doors. “Hades should be just outside.”
“Thank you.” I turn to the door as the wispy fabric of the gown twists delicately around my body. I can’t help but feel like a princess in this dark castle. And as my fingertips reach out to pull at the door handle, a quick flash of unexpected fantasy plunges into my mind. The blade of it dives deep, desire cutting to the core of me.
I imagine myself fleeing from a beast so dark, taunting him—always taunting him. The ground trembles under the bludgeoning of his footfalls. My heart thunders, quickening with anticipation. With the hunt. With the inevitable capture. The claim .
A thrill is caught between reality and fantasy as I pull open the door and step onto the stone that seems carved straight from the cut of the very mountain in which birthed this dark castle into existence.
Hades has never looked more God than he does in this moment. He’s shed his suit for a wispy black button-down shirt that is open just enough to tease a display of his chest. The shirt is tucked into black britches, and black leather riding boots crunch over loose mountain rock as he twists to face me. Thrown over his shirt is an open black jacket that falls down the length of his body. His shoulder length hair is tied at the nape of his neck, and I can see the hard clench to his sharp jaw even beneath his trim beard. He looks like a pirate.
Or a handsome devil come to steal away my soul.
Beside him is a beast that is unlike any horse I’ve ever seen. The creature is massive, not only in height, but in girth. Gleaming black hooves cut into the path where he stands at the back of his master, ebony eyes tracking the very flutter of my racing pulse.
The dark fantasy I’d entertained only moments before spears my belly hot as a newly forged blade. Liquid desire burns through me, entirely unexpected. It twists inside my womb with a demand I can’t begin to understand how to sate. The sharp pain of it steals my breath as I press my palm into my belly, attempting in any way that I can, to steady myself.
“Little Goddess,” Hades murmurs darkly. The rich tones of his dark voice do nothing to lessen the burning ache that’s building inside me. His nostrils flare and I clench my legs instinctively. I could swear, as impossible as it is, that the man—the God—can scent my arousal.
The idea alone is enough to bloom a flush of apple red in my cheeks. I duck my head, cutting my gaze from his. At my stomach, my knotted hands tremble just slightly as I move slowly down the steps of the palace entrance to the man and beast that await me at the bottom. Heat burns now under every inch of my skin, and still, I manage to shiver as I stop before Hades.
“Are you cold?” His finger slides under my chin and I find my gaze forced to his penetrating one.
“Just nervous.” The words feel pulled from me. Sometimes, I feel like there is nowhere I could possibly hide from this man. All he needs to do is peer into my eyes to catch the ink of truth that tattoos all my secrets onto my naked soul.
Hades is impossibly still for an impossibly long moment. I am certain the thunderous drumming of my heart is the music that surrounds this moment. Even the massive horse tips his head, as though drawn closer by the fluttering lullaby of my pulse.
Finally, he speaks, “This is Alastor.” He lifts a hand to stroke the bulging muscle of the horse’s thick neck. “He’ll take us to the Grove of Persephone.”
My mouth feels dry as I stare up at the beast. And I mean up . Black leather and chunky silver metal assemble the riding gear that decorates the massive beast, adding an air of danger he really does not need. I can’t imagine that, face-to-face with Alastor, one would not be shaking in their boots. He looks like the beast that lives to charge headfirst into battle, proud and entirely undefeatable.
The first of the four horsemen, the thought whispers, unbidden into my mind .
“We’re riding him?” My voice cracks on the last word. “M—Maya said I was—um—close to a horse called Aethon—um—before.”
My voice drifts off as Hades’ eyes darken to a dangerous shade. Shadows erupt in the flames that never really seem to die anymore. “She spoke to you about before?”
“Um…” Nerves erupt inside me. I’ve never felt afraid of Hades—but when he looks at me like that, I kind of feel afraid of him for Maya. “Not really, no. I tried to ask her questions, and she shut most of them down.”
That muscle in Hades’ jaw pops. “You asked her questions?”
“I—well—” I shift nervously under both Hades’ and Alastor’s deep stares. “I feel comfortable with her.”
Hades steps closer to me. “And you don’t feel comfortable with me?”
I flinch. “Of course, I do.”
His dark eyes with those swirling shadows in the flame peer deep into mine. “You don’t ask me questions.”
“That’s not true.”
“What did you ask her?”
I lift my chin. “If she was my friend…before.”
Hades sighs, his eyes shuttering closed for a pulse. When they reopen, he taps Alastor’s back. “Climb on up.”
My heart jolts. I’m pretty sure they both hear it, because a smirk kicks the frown off Hades’ face and Alastor’s head knocks curiously to the side. I swallow hard to clear my throat before I say, “I’ve never ridden a horse.”
Alastor’s head kicks back at this, onyx eyes wide. He does understand me!
I’m still gaping at the horse when Hades murmurs, “Alastor would never let anything happen to you.”
The horse stands taller, gaining another inch.
The sight has my fear waning to be replaced by something else. Humor, possibly? Trust…
Hades catches me around the waist, lifting me before I’ve really had a moment to process. “Foot in the stirrup,” he instructs.
Gripping the knobby thing on the saddle, I throw my leg wide. The high slits that cut through the wispy dress make throwing my leg over Alastor’s back easy. In the next second, Hades is up on the horse behind me.
His capable hands take the reins, even though I am unconvinced they are a necessity. The leather rests loosely in his hands, his arms bracketing my body as he commands low, “To the Grove of Persephone, Alastor.”
The horse begins to move. The land spins around us as he does a circle to change directions, the thick muscles of the beastly horse rippling with every movement. My body rocks in the saddle, closer to Hades. When his hand comes to rest low and snug on my belly, I feel another surge of that aching need swelling inside me—even as I straighten my spine in an attempt to ignore it.
My suspicion that Hades can scent my need is affirmed when he inhales sharply, loosing a rough curse that has my body responding with an eruption of goosebumps.
“Can you—can you smell my arousal?” I’m relieved that I can’t see his face—and he can’t see mine right now, either. As humiliating as the question is, I have to ask it. I have to know.
“Yes.”
“Oh, my god…” When I try to shimmy away from him, to place just an inch of space between us, Hades tugs me firmly back into his chest. I’m closer to him now than I was before. So close that I can feel the hard bulge of his own arousal pressing into the soft crease of my butt.
The pressure sends a hot tingle slithering up my spine that I do my very best to ignore.
“You have nothing to be embarrassed about.”
“I disagree,” I reply rather perfunctorily.
He dips his head to murmur his dark words into my neck. “I could have you every second of every day, little goddess, and I would still want more.”
The knots of need inside my core tighten. Hot prickles of heat pop the goosebumps that assaulted every inch of my flesh only moments before, and I can’t help myself as I rock in the saddle. I need something…
“I don’t know why I feel like this.” The words come out like a gasp. A moan. A plea.
There is a moment of hesitation won over by curiosity as he asks, “What do you feel?”
“Raw with need.” I let my head drop into the nook of his shoulder as he skims my neck with his lips. They are so warm, like the blaze of flame. “Empty and hollow.”
“Does it hurt?”
“Yes.” I gasp when the tip of his tongue lashes out to flick at the flutter of my pulse. “I don’t understand.”
“I do.” His voice sounds pained. It’s that pain that draws my attention away from the pulsing ache enough to twist in his arms. To look at him.
“You do?”
He dips his head soberly, gravely. “The hunger is a consequence I must bear.” Sadness smothers the flames in his eyes for the first time—and it threatens to rip into my heart. “I will work endlessly to feed it. And if I am not enough…” His hand moves from my belly to cup the side of my face when I flinch away from him in horror.
Not enough? What is he talking about?
And what is that thought that niggles at me, just out of reach?
“Hades?”
“I will see to it that you never carry the weight of the burden that is mine to carry.” He smiles, but it cracks like glass under pressure.
“I don’t understand, Hades.”
His lips claim mine in a kiss that is so soft, so beautifully sad, it tears into the shredded ribbons of my soul. The tatters have been threaded to his own, weaved in such a way I know they can never be undone. I don’t want them to be undone. And yet, I feel like he’s plucking stitch after stitch, thread after thread, in the name of noble separation I do not crave.
My lips tremble against his as I ask, shaken, “Hades?”
He drags the tip of his nose along the line of mine in a heartbreaking caress that speaks of broken love. And then speaks words that will haunt me for far too long. “There is no pain I will not suffer for you, little goddess. There is nothing I will not stand witness to, if it brings you relief. There is no torment I would not bear if it meant you find the pleasure you crave.”