Chapter 20
Hades didn't press her further. Instead, he glanced toward a stone bench nestled under a flowering arch of night-blooming vines. With a faint gesture of his hand, he moved toward it and sat, the shadows seeming to coil closer around him in reverence.
"Sit with me," he said quietly, his tone more invitation than command.
Elara hesitated but found herself moving anyway, perching on the far end of the bench. The night air was cool, carrying the faint scent of the blossoms above them. For a moment, neither spoke.
Finally, Hades broke the silence. "You ask what I meant before—about what else you may awaken.
Cerberus is no ordinary beast. He was forged from darkness itself, a creature born of fire and shadow.
Even I..." His gaze dropped to the ground, his voice dipping lower.
"...it took years before he submitted to me. Years of blood and defiance."
Elara blinked. "And yet he let me touch him."
"Yes." Hades's eyes found hers, deep and sharp as midnight. "That should have been impossible. Which leads me to believe that you, Elara Everwyn, are far from ordinary."
Her hands tightened in her lap. "But I am ordinary. I'm just... me. Nothing special."
A flicker of something—was it amusement?—touched his lips, though his eyes stayed serious. "And yet the impossible seems to follow you. You have no idea how the threads of fate curl around you. Perhaps you cannot see it yet, but I can."
Elara shifted, suddenly restless under the weight of his words. "You're making me out to be something I'm not."
"No," he said softly, leaning just slightly closer. His hand rose, deliberate and careful, as though asking permission without words. When she didn't move away, he brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear. The touch was fleeting, but it left a trail of heat that made her breath hitch.
"You may be more important than you realize," he murmured, his voice lower now, almost intimate. "Not just to me... but to both realms."
Her heart stumbled against her ribs. She had no answer, no words to match the weight of what he was saying—or the way his touch made her feel.
"I—" She stopped, cheeks warming, and stood abruptly. "I should... go."
Before he could respond, she turned and hurried back toward the palace, her pulse racing, leaving Hades seated on the bench with shadows curling at his heels—watching her retreat with a gaze that burned like fire restrained.