12. Meg
MEG
“W hat game are you playing, Hades?”
He strokes a hand down the back of my thigh, directly over the welts he striped there.
A comforting touch and still a reminder of his power.
Everything is like that with him, always has been.
Layers upon layers. There are days when I’d give my right eye for him to just speak plainly .
Just once. I already know his answer won’t satisfy before he says, “A deep one, love.”
I look down at Hercules. His body has gone slack with sleep, the adrenaline drop knocking him out as surely as any drug.
If we can’t rouse him enough to get him down to his suite, he’ll end up here on the couch.
It won’t be the first time something like this has happened, but my stomach twists at the thought of him waking up and thinking he’s been abandoned. “He’s an innocent.”
“He’s from Olympus. There are no innocents there, not in the circles he moved in.”? 1
Finally, a hint at the truth. I should have made the connection the second Hercules picked that as his safe word, but I’d been too busy wallowing in anger and self-pity. I lean back enough so that I can see Hades’s face. “He’s too young to be connected to your exile.”
“Yes.”
No elaboration, and why would there be? Everyone thinks that Hades talks to me, that he divulges secrets to me and me alone.
He used to, but that was a long time ago, before he started shutting me out.
Now, when I’m actually trying to reach him despite every instinct screaming at me to protect myself, he’s still shutting me out.
Frustration blooms in my chest, chasing away the last bit of buzz from the scene we just finished. “I wish you would just talk to me.”
He strokes my jaw. For a moment, the barriers between us disintegrate, and I can see how fucking tired he is.
Tired down to his very soul. An exhaustion that could swallow mine.
It’s only a moment, though. I blink and then he’s the enigma again, a soft smile playing at his lips.
“Trust me, love. You never used to have such reservations when it came to following my lead.”
Hurt lances my chest, a deeper pain than the cane welts.
Closed out yet again. A demand for trust that he stopped earning when he stopped talking to me.
Did I really think this time would be different, that he would suddenly change his ways?
I know better. A thousand times over. My throat burns, and I look away.
“I’m very tired. I’d like to go to bed.”
For the briefest of hesitations, I think he may actually change his mind and let me in. But Hades just nods. “There’s a meeting with the liquor distributer at ten tomorrow.”
Just business. Always just business. “I’m aware,” I grind out.
Silly to let this hurt me. I slide out from beneath Hercules’s head and it’s only sheer force of will that keeps my knees from buckling when I stand.
Hades may own me in every way that counts, but he’s no longer my safe space.
I’m not even sure if he ever was, or if those bright years were just a figment of my imagination, an illusion a desperate girl wove around herself and the man she viewed as her savior.
I let the blanket drop and walk on steady legs to my discarded clothing.
It’s not uncommon for subs to navigate the club in only a blanket—or naked—but I am not a normal sub.
My clothing is my armor, and no matter how dazed I feel right now, I can’t afford to let anyone see.
The Underworld is filled to the brim with predators, and it’s their nature to pounce on weakness. Even me. Especially me.
I’m almost to the door when Hades speaks again. “Megaera.”
I stop. “Yes?”
“You pleased me greatly tonight.”
I resent the warm flush his words bring.
Pleasure at pleasing him. I walk out of the room without another word.
Hades will see to Hercules. It’s not my problem, and staying in that room a second longer is just asking for the emotional breakdown I can feel barreling down the tracks in my direction.
I have to get out of here, but leaving the building isn’t an option, not when I’m feeling so off-center.
It takes me six minutes to make it down the back way to the living quarters and lock myself in my suite.
Even then, it’s not enough. I strip out of my clothes, but each step reminds me of the beating Hades delivered, of the way Hercules fucked me with his tongue afterward.
If that’s not a metaphor for the two men, I don’t know what is.
Pain and pleasure. Pleasure and pain. Both will kill you in the end if you’re not careful.? 2
I need a shower, but I’m too fucking exhausted.
Emotionally. Mentally. Physically. Take your pick.
I drag my fingers through my hair. I already know I’m not going to be able to sleep.
Even after the scene, I’m wound too tightly, my thoughts tumbling over themselves to circle, circle, circle.
I yank on my hair, but the spark of pain along my scalp does nothing to calm the turmoil raging through me.
A knock on my door, three measured beats.
I know who it is even before I pad naked to the door and pull it open. Hades stands there, looking as perfectly put together as ever. Isn’t that always the way? He’s in control, and I’m spiraling out around him. My defenses are long gone, but I try to dredge them up anyway. “Can I help you, Sir?”
“Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”
“What?” I take a step back, and he shadows the movement, stepping into my suite and closing the door softly behind him.
He feels bigger the second I’m locked in with him.
It’s as if, without the outlet of the open doorway, his presence fills the room to the brim, leaving no space for anyone else.
Part of it’s the power he wields as easily as breathing. Most of it is just Hades.
I keep backing up. I’m not even sure what I’m doing at this point.
I’m incapable of running from this man, but I’m acting on sheer instinct right now.
My back hits the wall, and I can’t keep my little gasp in.
Hades keeps advancing until he’s barely an inch away, until it would be more natural for him to close that last little bit of distance. “You’re hurting, love.”
Damn you . I swallow hard. “You striped my ass. I’ll be hurting for days.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about.”
I can’t do it. I can’t answer the demand in his dark eyes. I’ve already stripped myself bare again and again for him. To do it right now on command… I can’t. No matter how much I need it.
I should have more faith in Hades. He never needed me to express myself in words before, though he demands it often enough. He takes a step back and holds out a hand. “You should have told me.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Yes, you do. You’re always so strong, so fearless. It took me too long to realize what was going on beneath.”
I have no answer to that, so I take his hand and let him tuck me against his chest, bolstering me with his strength, protecting me from everything but the two of us.
Ironic, that. I inhale the subtle scent of him and something inside me starts to unwind.
It doesn’t matter that I know better, that this soft moment never lasts.
It’s enough that he’s here and giving it to me right now.
He guides us to my bed and nudges me to lay down.
I watch him strip. It thrills me, even now, especially now, to see him dismantle such a vital part of him.
Hades’s clothes are his armor the same way mine are.
More so, even. Naked, he climbs into bed next to me and pulls me back into his arms. We lie like that for several long moments, and he lets out a quiet sigh.
“I can’t be anything other than what I am, love. ”
My eyes burn and I shut them tight. “I’m aware of that.” I’m not a fool, though some days it certainly feels like it. He appears to be trying, and with the dark blanketing the room around us, I tentatively release some of my truth. “I can’t help needing what I need.”
“I know.”
He can’t change and neither can I. We fit so well…
but it’s not a perfect melding. It never will be.
The thought brings sorrow too great to bear, and I shift closer to lift my face to his.
He catches my mouth, anticipating my kiss.
Hades always seems to know what I’m going to do before I do it.
That annoys me most days. Right now, it’s a relief.
He rolls me onto my back, pressing me down hard against the mattress and sending pain flaring over my ass and thighs.
I welcome it. Every touch pushes my fears away and settles something inside me.
I didn’t realize how much I needed this grounding until he arrived to give it to me.
He carefully pushes a single finger into me, testing for tenderness.
As if he hasn’t overseen me fucking for hours in the past and then bent me over the arm of the chair and driven into me until I begged for mercy.
I lift my hips in silent invitation, but he continues at the same pace, building my pleasure in slow waves, piece by piece.
He shifts his thumb against my clit, teasing me, and I break our kiss long enough to say, “Hades, please.”
He shifts to settle between my thighs. A breath later and his cock is filling me in the most perfect way possible.
He pins me to the bed with his hips, his weight not allowing for any movement.
I cling to him, even as I try to fight for more space to slide along his length.
The pleasure and pressure and pain is almost too much. “I need…”
“I’ll always find a way to give you what you need, love.
You know that.” His low voice is pure sin in the darkness.
It doesn’t matter that we’re having what appears to be vanilla sex.
It’s never vanilla with me and Hades. Not really.
Not when every touch chains me to him more thoroughly, every word marks me as his.
Just when I’m sure I can’t stand it any longer, that I’ll start to beg and plead, he begins to move.
He’s cruel in his gentleness, cruel in showing me how things could be if we were different people—if we hadn’t made the same choices to get to this place.
I can’t breathe past needing him. He locks his grip around my wrists and pins them to the bed on either side of my head, and I could weep over the need to touch him. “Hades, please .”
He bites my bottom lip, and then I’m coming, fighting against his hold, fighting to take him in deeper, to hold him closer.
It’s a lost cause. It always has been. For once, Hades doesn’t try to prolong things, he follows me over the edge, sharing this with me.
He gentles his kisses and moves us back to our previous position—him on his back with me tucked against him.
His hold around me tightens, as if maybe he needed this just as much as I did, but the moment passes too quickly for me to be sure.
After ten years, this man shouldn’t be such an enigma to me.
Maybe I just thought I knew him with the rash arrogance of youth and time proved me wrong. I’m honestly not sure anymore.
He smooths my hair back. “It’s you and me, Meg. Forever.”
Threat or declaration of love? I don’t know.
I’ve never known. I look into his dark eyes, and in this moment I can truly believe that this man loves me above all others.
That it would hurt him beyond measure to lose me.
That he would raze this city to the ground if it meant my happiness was on the line.
Then he blinks and I can actually see him retreating.
Sorrow rises, a drowning wave that I have no defense against. I tuck my face against his chest, and he lets me hide this from him tonight, just like he always has in the past. Some truths are too difficult to bear.
I close my eyes and let the relative safety of Hades’s presence around me lull me into sleep.
When I wake, I’m alone.
Just like always.
1 ? A truth that’s been maintained through a lot of iterations over many books.
2 ? Meg is one of my favorite characters of all time. She’s so damned jaded, and yet she wants to hope for more.