Chapter 9
Hades
“How nice of you to return,” a deep voice drawls as I materialize in my palace den.
My jaw clenches for what has to be the thousandth time in the last few hours as I face the Hell Fae King.
I should have known he would be here waiting for me. While the Netherworld Kingdom is my home, it resides within the Hell Fae Realm.
A complicated conundrum that essentially means the fae here worship me while revering him—Typhos Lucifer—as their king.
It’s a hierarchy that has worked for a very long time. He’s even appointed his own lieutenants to run each of the different species of fae that reside within his wards.
However, he’s always seen me as above all that, my Mythos Fae heritage affording me a leniency he has no choice but to give.
Only, I can tell by his expression now that he’s not in a lenient mood. “I’m going to give you three minutes to express your frustration,” I inform him. “Then I’m going to get to work.”
I should have arrived an hour ago.
But I couldn’t take myself away from Serapina and Maliki.
After initiating my mist, I lingered in the in-between. I shouldn’t have. The longer I stayed, the harder it was to force myself to actually leave.
However, watching Maliki kiss Serapina literally froze me in the in-between. I couldn’t tear my eyes off of them. And they were too caught up in each other to notice.
Was it wrong of me to observe them? Probably.
But it felt fucking right. Part of me wanted to throttle Maliki for daring to touch my Omega. Only, that part was drowned out by the side of me that wanted to tell him to go further. To strip her. Kiss every inch of her. Fuck her.
Maybe it’s my millennia of watching him play that inspired these feelings.
Or maybe it’s simply meant to be this way.
Regardless, I’m intrigued by the notion of sharing Serapina with my best friend. And there are very few things that interest me these days, making this a remarkable feat.
I also never thought I would want to share my mate with anyone.
But Maliki isn’t just anyone. He’s mine.
Not in a sexual way. Though, I do enjoy watching him fuck. So I suppose it is somewhat sexual. Just not in a traditional way.
“Are you even listening to me?” the Hell Fae King asks, his irritated tone interrupting my musings.
“Not really,” I admit. “It’s been a very tiring day.”
“Oh? Has it been tiring for you?” he deadpans. “Because last I checked, this is your kingdom to protect. And you left your fae to face dozens of Alphas. Alone.”
I sigh. “The fae weren’t in any danger. All those Alphas desire is my mate, and she’s no longer here.”
“Yes, Morpheus brought me up to speed. That doesn’t answer for your actions, though.”
I stare at him. “If Camillia had an army of feral, Godlike beings after her, what would your priority be?”
He doesn’t immediately respond. But he doesn’t need to. Because we both know he would ensure his mate’s safety before everyone and anything else.
“Camillia would help me handle the problem,” he says after a beat. “She’s my queen for a reason.”
“Yes, well, my Omega is currently trapped in a human form,” I tell him. “So until she blossoms into a Goddess, she needs to be protected.”
He studies me for a moment. “Can you share your plans for her safety? So I know if I need to prepare for another attack on my gates?”
“She’s nowhere near your realm right now” is all I tell him.
What I don’t add is that if I have to bring her back here, it won’t be to my palace. It’ll be to a very different area of this kingdom, one no one can reach apart from me.
A space I built just for Persephone.
Which should fill me with excitement. Once upon a time, it did.
But now…
I nearly wince.
Everything has changed. My intentions. My plans. My desires.
Fuck. I rub a hand over my face and turn toward the balcony framing my den. One problem at a time, I decide, focusing on the energy coming off my kingdom.
It’s lively, which causes my lips to curl down. Because it’s lacking my usual deathly glow.
In fact, it appears brighter than usual.
My steps hasten as I move through the open doors and walk to the edge of the terrace to peer into the valley below.
Blue flames meet my gaze, the sight of them expected. I can see the glow of lanterns in the courtyard, as well as from the Netherworld Village.
But the Creek of the Dead appears to be moving. Which is impossible. It’s a ditch of skulls of bones. No liquid. No life. No movement.
My gaze narrows as I follow the trail up the cliff leading into the Netherworld Mountain. Walking with purpose around the edge of my balcony, I head toward the opposite side of my wing—in the direction of the rooms I gifted to Serapina.
Her exterior connects to mine since the whole palace is designed to suit my tastes, and my preference is to have my mate close by.
But my jaw tightens as I near her part of my wing. It’s not far. Maybe a hundred yards or so away. And yet it feels as though I’ve entered a new realm.
I freeze as a butterfly—a fucking butterfly—skims my cheek.
Those do not exist in my kingdom.
This is the land of the dead. The Netherworld. We do not have butterflies.
Typhos moves to my side, his presence a nuisance that I want to swat at along with the fluttering creature. Instead, I walk forward and narrow my gaze as the garden I built for Persephone comes into view.
It used to be made of stone.
Now, it’s bursting with lively activity.
And it’s overlooking a running waterfall that’s flowing into the Creek of the Dead.
“What is this?” I demand through my teeth.
“An upgrade,” my cousin announces as he mists into view.
I’m about to echo his ridiculous words when another Alpha appears with him, one that has my hands curling into fists at my sides. “Ares,” I say. “Shouldn’t you be guarding a certain prison?”
The dark-haired male glances at me, the horns on his head glinting off the dual moons above.
Some Alphas have wings in beast form.
But not Ares.
His eyes still gleam a vibrant red like many others’, but instead of forming feathery plumes at his back, he has two sets of horns. One that curls at the base of his scalp. And one on top of his head.
They’re appropriate features that complement his harsher personality traits.
“You know, I was,” he drawls. “Then I felt the most alluring presence—an Alpha brawl. And, well, you know how I feel about violence.”
I nearly roll my eyes. Of course it was the battle that called to him, not my Omega’s impending heat.
Ares has always been bloodthirsty, his temper legendary.
But he’s the perfect one to manage and control Pandora’s Box as a result.
However, if he’s here, then… “Who is guarding the prisoners?”
He shrugs. “Triton.”
My eyebrows rise.
“Don’t bother,” Morpheus interjects before I can comment on Ares’s choice. “I’ve already said what you’re thinking.”
“And you dare to assume my thoughts?” I demand, irritated by the concept.
Morpheus merely grins. “I dare to do a lot of things, Cousin.” He looks around the bustling garden. “Think Serapina will appreciate my manifestation?”
Ares snorts. “This just got boring.”
“No one asked you to remain,” Morpheus replies. “The Alpha hunt has already moved on, as should you.”
“Yes,” Typhos agrees, his domineering presence a dark shadow at my side. “Unless you want to remain for a lucrative discussion?”
Ares looks at the Hell Fae King. “I’ve told you before—I’m not interested in any deals.”
Typhos lifts a shoulder. “Even Godlike creatures change their minds every once in a while.” He glances at Morpheus when he voices those words, and I wonder what he’s referring to.
The God of Wrath doesn’t appear to share my interest as he merely says, “Right. Thanks for the good time, Death.” He looks at my cousin. “See you for another round soon, Dreams.”
With that, he vanishes, and I feel his presence disappear entirely from my kingdom.
I should have sensed him when I arrived, too, but my mind was still wandering and not entirely focused.
However, I’m paying attention now.
Which is how I realize this entire side of the palace has been completely reimagined. “You manifested several changes throughout my home,” I say, my gaze narrowing at the one I know is responsible for these alterations.
“It was in shambles when I arrived,” Morpheus replies. “And as you left me to clean up the mess, I took certain liberties.” He walks to the edge of the terrace balcony to look out over my kingdom. “The skeleton trees seem to approve.”
I frown and follow his gaze down to the Netherworld Courtyard.
And see that my creations are sprouting purple dots on their skeletal limbs. Flowers, I realize, my gaze squinting at the morbid creation.
“You’ve defiled my kingdom,” I say through my teeth.
“I’ve improved it,” Morpheus replies. “But if you don’t like the renovations, then perhaps you shouldn’t have tasked me with handling the cleanup.”
“As much as I’m enjoying this banter, can we discuss Onyx?” Typhos inserts.
My brow furrows. “What about him?” I ask, familiar with the one often referred to as the Corpse Fae King. He also happens to be Maliki’s uncle. Not that Maliki seems to care about his royal bloodline. Ruling is the last thing my best friend has ever desired.
“He’s dead,” Typhos says dryly. “And I expect you to fix it since you’re the reason he died.”
I stare at him. “I didn’t kill Onyx.”
“No, your kind did that when rutting through this kingdom in search of Omega pussy,” Typhos states flatly, his crude statement causing my hackles to rise.
“Do not speak about my mate like that.”
“Do not assume my respect for you and your kind means I’ll allow this chaos to happen again in my realm,” he returns flatly. “You put my fae at risk. Forced my mate to come here and create a portal to your home realm. And therefore put my mate-circle at risk when we all arrived to help her.”
“It was very impressive,” Morpheus inserts unhelpfully. “Azazel and Ajax also proved to be quite a force against our kind. I was both impressed and surprised by the display.” He looks at the Hell Fae King. “You’ve done well for yourself, Typhos.”
“I can’t tell if you’re being condescending or complimentary,” Typhos responds. “And I’m not sure I care. What I do care about is reviving Onyx.” His intense blue eyes capture mine. “Which you are going to help me with.”
“Definitely the latter—a compliment,” Morpheus murmurs. “And yes, Hades, it’s your turn now. Have fun.”
He disappears, leaving me growling in his wake. Because I have no doubt that he just went straight back to Mykonos.
Part of me wants to pursue him.
But the loyal side of me remains on the terrace.
Because I can’t leave Onyx’s soul to suffer in the death world. Not only is he an ally and a respected fae in my kingdom, but he’s also important to Maliki.
Which makes him important to me.
“Any other casualties I should be aware of?” I ask Typhos, my gaze on the kingdom below rather than on the Hell Fae King.
There are several Corpse Fae standing in the Soul Yards with bowed heads. They look like ants from up here, but I can tell they’re mourning.
Meanwhile, I see several other fae in the courtyard, staring at Morpheus’s alterations. The purple flowers resemble specks to my enhanced vision, telling me they’re much larger when standing before them.
Fucking Morpheus.
I’ll fix his changes after I’m done visiting the death world.
“Two,” Typhos says, giving me the names of the other fae who perished while my kind stormed through the kingdom.
Honestly, I’m surprised there wasn’t more physical damage.
Though, I suppose most of them focused on my palace and nothing else. Serapina’s sweet Omega fragrance only bloomed here, not in any other parts of the village.
“How many Alphas ventured out of the palace?” I ask, curious.
“Less than a dozen,” Typhos replies. “And I think they only did so to explore the kingdom. One of them was Ares.”
I nod. “The more lucid of my kind, then.”
“If you can call him lucid, then yes.”
“Psychotic is probably a better term,” I say, thinking aloud more than responding to his words. “Regardless, those few are the ones who pose a larger threat—because they’re aware enough to hunt.” I finally look at the Hell Fae King again. “I don’t suppose you can identify the others for me?”
“I can and I will, after you bring back Onyx.”
I grunt. “Always working in deals.”
“It is what I do,” he returns. “Now bring back my lieutenant.”
I sigh.
What Typhos Lucifer doesn’t realize is that I would save Onyx for free. But I don’t feel like having that conversation right now.
I’m tired. Frustrated. And missing my mate. All while hating that Serapina is not actually mine.
So a visit with spirits may actually prove worthwhile.
Because I could use an outlet for my emotions.
And what better place to unleash my irritations than among an army of dead souls?
“I’ll be back,” I tell Typhos.
What I don’t add is that he probably shouldn’t waste his time waiting for me to return. Because it’s going to take me a while to find the recently departed souls.
Instead, I simply mist to the plane born of my power.
The death world.