Chapter 22 #2
Anger snapped through me, sharp and hot, but I swallowed it down. No way was I giving him a scene to feed on. Instead, I released a light laugh and tilted my head. ‘Him? Please. He’s more like my hot, bad-tempered bodyguard.’
Erebus’s lips curved, amusement flickering in his shadowed gaze, like he was filing the answer away to toy with later.
Before I could decide whether to punch him or walk away, the air shifted as salt and storm rolled in, and Poseidon was there, all raw magnetism and male arrogance wrapped in smug perfection. His presence pressed against Erebus’s like a tide about to break.
‘Erebus,’ Poseidon said, low and edged with warning.
The god of darkness held his stare a beat too long, shadows curling lazily at his feet. Then, with a smirk that promised trouble, he slipped back into the crowd, melting among the guests as though none of it had touched him.
Poseidon greeted the gathered group with casual indifference before turning to Sephy. ‘Persephone.’ His tone was cool, and so was the glance he gave her before his hand brushed the small of my back, his fingers grazing bare skin. They lingered, and my brain short-circuited.
Not. Helpful.
‘Bronte. Good to see you again,’ he added, his gaze sliding to the elegant mage.
Then his eyes found mine, caressing my face with a lopsided smile that should be illegal; now was not the time to flash his handsome—it was irritating. I fought the magnetic pull and wrenched my gaze away.
The problem was, he was obscenely delicious, and my hormones were smothering me like an overzealous weighted blanket. Confusion and nerves were dangerously close to mixing into a full-blown cocktail of stupid.
Pull yourself together, Cordie! You cannot give in to Mr I’ll ruin you for all other men.
Ugh. Seriously. FML.
‘Poseidon,’ Sephy replied, arching a brow as her gaze dipped to his hand still resting on my back. ‘I love Cordelia. She’s gonna give you so much shit.’ She winked at me as Si stiffened, his mouth flattening into a thin slash, composure splintering for a heartbeat.
‘You are obviously a seer now?’ he spat, his jaw tense.
‘I see me riding that hippocampus sooner rather than later.’ Sephy smiled sweetly, and his tempestuous eyes swirled with grey rainclouds, his irritation evident. I’m surprised his teeth didn’t crack under the pressure of them gnashing together.
Yep. I already utterly loved this woman.
Si muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like this is absurd, the muscle in his jaw still working overtime.
I grinned into my wine. No clue if I was winning or wildly out of my depth, but I was definitely enjoying the show.
‘Let’s sit.’ Si took my hand and practically hauled me towards the enormous table, pulling out a chair and all but planting me in it.
Behind us, I caught Sephy’s soft titter, but I let him manhandle me—mostly because I wasn’t in the mood to cause a scene.
Still, my jaw clenched. The man had a real talent for acting like I was some decorative object he could pick up and put down at will.
The terrace was brimming with colour—planters overflowing with trees and blooms swaying in the gentle evening breeze.
Beyond its edge, the Underworld stretched out in a breathtaking panorama, every inch painted in vibrant hues.
If I had to guess, it was Sephy’s handiwork—her flora magic. Whatever the truth, it was stunning.
People began drifting towards the table, taking their seats with the kind of lazy elegance only gods and immortals could pull off. The air hummed with quiet conversation and the soft clink of glassware.
Hades and Sephy settled opposite us, an oddly perfect balance of shadow and light, while Bronte slid into the chair beside me, her movement effortless, eyes sparkling with amusement as if she’d just tuned in to her favourite drama.
She glanced between Si and me, a knowing little smirk playing at her lips.
Our eyes met, and I arched a deliberately pissy brow, my jaw working like I was grinding diamonds to dust. Bronte was clearly entertained by whatever storm she thought was brewing.
‘He’s not used to being challenged,’ she murmured, half to herself. ‘This will be fun to watch.’ Poseidon said nothing—but I caught the twitch of his jaw and the brief flare in his sea-green eyes.
Hades clicked his fingers, and I jolted as the table instantly filled with enough food and wine to supply a small army. My gaze snapped to the king of the Underworld, and Sephy tittered at my wide-eyed stare.
Magic catering—because who doesn’t love a side of sorcery with their appetiser?
Hades’ eyes locked on mine, and his stare raised my small hairs—a reaction not many people could provoke.
It was very disconcerting, that unbearably handsome face, the kind of beauty that didn’t invite you closer so much as dare you.
It was like admiring a tiger from too close—dazzled by the sleek power, forgetting for a heartbeat that you were prey… until it struck.
The sensation was unnervingly familiar. I’d felt that same razor’s-edge awareness with Si, trapped somewhere between wanting to run and wanting to be caught.
‘Don’t mind him,’ Bronte muttered as she snagged a bottle of wine. ‘He’s a cranky asshole.’
‘I heard that,’ Hades deadpanned, giving her a flat, icy stare as he filled Sephy’s glass with the kind of precision usually reserved for ritual sacrifices. I bit my lip, trying not to laugh.
The meal itself was pleasant enough, the wine loosening the knot of tension in my shoulders…
but apparently, Si had decided I was incapable of basic self-sufficiency.
Every time my glass dipped below half, he refilled it.
Every time a platter passed within reach, he loaded my plate before I could so much as pick up a fork.
He cut my Portobello mushroom steak—yes, cut my mushroom—and slid it back in front of me with this smug little curl of his mouth, like he was hand-feeding a particularly temperamental cat.
‘Si, I am not a delicate flower you need to coddle,’ I said under my breath, stabbing at the vegetables like they’d personally offended me.
His gaze flicked to mine, challenging and unrepentant. ‘You belong to me. I look after what’s mine.’
I inhaled sharply, my pulse spiking with that infuriating mix of irritation and something far more dangerous. ‘We’re even now,’ I said firmly, setting my fork down before I stabbed him with it. ‘The subject is closed. Done.’
He only arched a brow in that maddening way before turning back to his plate, leaving me to stew in equal parts good wine, good food… and bad temper. Sephy gave me a look that said, pick your battles, but my patience was already circling the drain.
Bronte noticed, of course. Her sly little smirk had been growing all evening, and now she was fully invested—watching Si pile another roasted vegetable on my plate like it was a tense cliffhanger reveal.
She didn’t say a word, but the devilment in her eyes and barely suppressed grin said: Oh, this is getting good.
When dessert arrived—honey-drizzled pastries still warm from the oven—he served me first, sliding the plate in front of me with a low, ‘Eat.’
I clenched my jaw, thanked him through gritted teeth, and caught Bronte’s expression. She mouthed whipped and winked.
Hades just watched the whole thing with the faintly amused detachment of a man who’s seen this play out a thousand times before. I ate my food, but I was teetering on the edge—close to blowing a gasket.
I’d been plied with wine, fed within an inch of my life, and subjected to enough overbearing “attentiveness” to make me want to throw a bread roll in his stupidly perfect face.
I tuned back into Sephy giving Hades a hard time, the whole table roaring with laughter while he sat there, lips pressed into a flat, unimpressed line.
‘Irritating me is her second most enjoyable pastime,’ he drawled.
‘What’s her first?’ I asked, sipping my wine.
‘Sex comas,’ he replied, dead serious. I nearly snorted wine up my nose.
‘It’s true,’ Sephy said as she pressed a kiss to his cheek. ‘This shadow daddy hands me orgasms like candy.’ The way Hades looked at her sent a shiver straight down my spine.
‘Stop being a grump, Lord Dark and Grouchy,’ she teased, kissing him on the mouth.
‘You,’ he said, brow arching, ‘are my favourite nightmare. And I do believe you’ve rifled through my bank account to purchase a private island? My queen… did you think I wouldn’t notice?’
Sephy’s laugh chimed through the room, like a melody caught on the breeze ‘It’s an oasis of tranquillity. We can holiday there… Maybe with Poseidon and Cordie?’ She threw me a sly smile, and I glared right back, feeling fifty shades of awkward. Everyone’s eyes were on me.
‘Pussy-whipped bastard,’ Si muttered just loud enough for her to hear, earning himself a smirk.