Chapter 33
Elara's POV
The silence grew unbearable. She shifted her weight, chewing the inside of her cheek as every second stretched like an eternity.
"Of course," she muttered under her breath. "He's a god. He's busy. He's probably in some meeting or doesn't even want to see me. This was a mistake."
Her hand hovered on the door, torn between knocking again or fleeing before she could humiliate herself. Heat climbed her neck. The longer she stood there, the more ridiculous she felt.
"Just... walk away, Elara," she whispered. "He'll be fine without you."
She took a single step back, heart thudding, ready to disappear—
The door creaked open.
Elara froze.
Hades stood in the doorway, tall and composed as ever, but there was a faint flicker of surprise in his eyes when he saw her. The morning light from the high windows caught against the sharp lines of his features, softening the usual intensity of his presence.
"Elara," he said, her name falling from his lips with that smooth, deliberate weight that always seemed to sink beneath her skin. "I didn't expect you."
Her pulse hammered so loud she thought surely he could hear it.
"I—" She cleared her throat, fumbling. "I just... wanted to check if you were—" Her words faltered, sounding more foolish with each syllable. "—if you were alright. After last night."
For a moment, he simply studied her, the weight of his gaze making her want to shrink into the floor, yet rooting her in place. Then something unreadable flickered across his expression.
"You're worried," he said—not as a question, but as fact.
Heat rushed to her cheeks. "I didn't say that."
"No." His lips curved, not quite a smile, but close. "But you knocked anyway."
Her stomach flipped. She averted her eyes, focusing on the polished floor instead of the intensity of his gaze.
Then, his voice shifted—lower, softer. "Would you like to come in?"
The invitation landed heavier than it should have.
Elara hesitated, her hand curling at her side.
She had only meant to check, to reassure herself that he was fine.
A quick look, nothing more. Stepping inside his office.
.. it felt too intimate, like crossing into a space that belonged wholly to him.
But when she looked up again, she found him still waiting. Not pressuring, not commanding—just offering.
Her throat tightened. Against her better judgment, she nodded. "Alright."
He stepped back, allowing her inside.
The moment she crossed the threshold, the breath caught in her lungs.
The office was nothing like she expected.
Tall, arched windows let in shafts of muted light, their glass tinted with ancient designs that shimmered faintly.
The walls were lined with towering shelves of leather-bound books and strange objects—artifacts that hummed with the faintest trace of power.
A vast desk of obsidian and gold dominated the space, its surface neat but alive with scattered parchment, an open tome, and a black quill resting in ink that glowed faintly red, as though it pulsed with embers.
It was beautiful, commanding, and utterly Hades.
She found herself drifting further inside, her fingertips brushing against the smooth edge of the desk as she studied the details with quiet awe.
Behind her, she felt his eyes on her. Watching—not in the cold, distant way of a god, but in a way that felt far more dangerous. As though every move she made drew him deeper into thought.
"This place..." she murmured, almost forgetting herself. "It's... incredible."
"It serves its purpose," he replied, his voice steady, though she could feel the weight of it following her as she moved.
Elara turned slightly, meeting his gaze again. Her chest tightened. She hadn't expected to end up here, in this room, in his space. She hadn't expected the way it made her pulse quicken.
And yet, she didn't regret stepping inside.