Chapter 49
Elara's POV
Her chambers felt too small, the air too thick.
Elara sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the wall as though it might have answers carved into its stone. But there was nothing—nothing except the echo of his voice.
"You don't know what you do to me, Elara."
Her breath hitched just remembering it. His eyes, the way he leaned closer, the way his words had burned like fire against her skin.
He hadn't said the words outright, but he didn't need to. The tension had been there, raw and alive, thrumming between them like a heartbeat she couldn't quiet.
And she had wanted it. Saints, she had wanted it.
She pressed her palms against her face, groaning softly. What is wrong with me?
He wasn't hers. He couldn't be hers. He was Hades—Lord of the Underworld, a god, a being carved from shadow and fire. She was... a girl caught in a fate she didn't understand. A bridge between worlds. A puzzle piece in some prophecy she hadn't asked for.
She shouldn't care what he thought of her. She shouldn't wonder if he'd have kissed her had the moment lasted a breath longer. She shouldn't want him to.
But the image of his lips, the heat in his gaze—it wouldn't leave her.
Her chest ached as she lay back against the sheets, staring at the ceiling. She told herself she needed to sleep, but every time she closed her eyes, she saw him. His shadows curling like a living storm. His voice thick with restraint.
And she wondered—if he hadn't stopped himself... would she have let him kiss her?
The answer scared her more than the question.
?
Hades's POV
Work. That was all he needed. Work to silence the pull in his chest, the whisper of her name that clung to him even now.
Scrolls lay scattered across his desk, their ink blurring as he forced himself to read the same line over and over. It was useless. He couldn't banish her from his mind. He could still feel her presence—her nearness—like a brand pressed into him.
"You've been distracted."
Hades didn't need to look up to know the voice. Erebus leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, wearing that insufferable half-smirk.
"Leave," Hades said flatly.
His brother only chuckled and strolled inside, unbothered. "You really should work on your hospitality. Especially when you've got such interesting company these days."
Hades's hand twitched, shadows stirring. "Don't."
"Don't what?" Erebus asked, tilting his head innocently. "Don't talk about Elara? You're not usually this possessive, brother."
Hades's jaw locked, but he said nothing.
Erebus sauntered closer, perching casually on the edge of a chair. "She's fascinating, isn't she? That spark in her... that fear, that strength. No wonder you're on edge. If I didn't know better, I'd say she's gotten under your skin."
Shadows flared at Hades's feet, darkening the room. "Enough."
But Erebus's grin only widened, sharp and knowing. "You don't scare me, Hades. I see the way you look at her. And I can't help but wonder—what happens if she looks back? If she decides she prefers me instead?"
The growl that ripped from Hades's chest was low, dangerous. Erebus's eyes gleamed in triumph.
"Interesting," his brother murmured. "So you do care."
Hades stood abruptly, the weight of his presence filling the room, forcing Erebus to rise as well. The air between them crackled with raw power.
"I care," Hades said slowly, deliberately, his voice like steel, "about keeping her safe. Do not twist that into something else."
But even as he said it, the lie burned his throat.
Erebus tilted his head, studying him with that same infuriating smirk. "If you say so. But for what it's worth—she seems to enjoy my company."
The shadows whipped violently, the candlelight nearly snuffed out. Erebus laughed and backed away, heading for the door.
"Careful, brother," he said softly, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "If you don't claim what's yours, someone else just might."
The door shut behind him, leaving Hades in silence once more. His hands trembled against the desk, his chest tight with a fury he refused to name.
But his brother's words lingered all the same.