Chapter 11
Sera
Hades’s dark eyes flare, his words ending abruptly as his gaze meets mine.
All three men were so caught up in discussing me and my soul that they didn’t hear me walk down the hallway.
Though, I was purposely quiet. I even lingered behind the wall for a moment when I overheard my name.
“Persephone’s soul and Serapina are one and the same.”
Hearing Hades’s deep tone gave me pause and nearly sent me skipping back into the bedroom.
But curiosity held me captive.
Something I swear Fleur judged me for as she watched me from the couch with knowing eyes.
It was my stare-down with her that eventually forced me to move toward the couch. I was worried she might meow and give away my presence. And I didn’t want to be caught eavesdropping.
However, it didn’t end up mattering since the men were too deep in conversation to notice me.
But they certainly notice me now.
Morpheus’s lips part when he finds me wrapped up in a short robe.
Maliki gives me a sad smile.
And Hades just… stares. Then he clears his throat and says, “Your sister is here.”
My eyes widen. “What?” I instinctively pull the ties of my robe tighter as I start to look around. “Where?”
Pip disappears, maybe to go find my sister. Or maybe to hide. I’m not sure. But Hades distracts me from trying to figure it out when he replies, “Near Glass Lake.”
“The… the what?” I’m so confused. “There’s a glass lake?”
“In the Nesting Gardens,” he clarifies. Not that it helps. “I can escort you there once she and her circle are better settled.”
“I… I would like that.” Seeing Alina might be a relief right now, especially with all my competing emotions over everything Hades just said about my soul and resurrection. Except… “What are you afraid of?”
He was in the middle of saying he fears something when he met my gaze, and I want to know the end of that sentence.
His brow furrows. “I’m not afraid of anything, Serapina.”
“You said, ‘I fear,’ and didn’t finish your statement. I want to know what you were going to say. Please.”
He gives me a strange look, one that almost resembles pride.
But the expression is short-lived, his features turning somber as he replies, “I fear what will happen if you remain separated from your Omega soul. You should have gone into heat a year ago. I thought you were intentionally suppressing your instincts. But now…”
“Now you realize I’m not,” I finish for him.
“Yes,” he admits. “And I’m afraid of what that might mean. I wanted to question Demeter so I could provide you with answers, the way an Alpha should be able to in a situation such as this. But I was unable to fulfill my quest. I’m sorry for my failure.”
He sounds so contrite, his words and tone suggesting he’s apologizing for so much more with that statement.
It’s so unlike the Hades in Persephone’s memories, his unerring confidence something she adored about him.
But I’m finding his softness to be alluring. It makes me feel… safe.
Which is confusing, as I worried about his intentions not even ten minutes ago.
However, his explanation about resurrection provided a sense of relief that I wasn’t expecting.
He seemed pleased to know Persephone’s memory lives on inside me. And not because he wants her to take over, or for me to disappear as she inhabits this form. But because he’s happy she’s been memorialized.
“I can’t think of a better way to honor her life.”
I completely misunderstood what he meant when he originally said that. I thought he was saying he couldn’t think of a better way to honor my life by replacing it with Persephone’s essence.
However, that’s not what he intended at all.
He was saying that he feels I’m worthy of hosting Persephone’s soul. Of being the one to carry her memories. Of embodying the Omega who used to be his mate.
It’s a strange sort of compliment, one I’m still trying to accept.
Hades clears his throat, his expression seeming to exude discomfort.
A discomfort that matches his tone as he says, “Right, well, I should go see if Orcus needs my help with anything. Unless you have more questions?” He doesn’t sound wary when he asks this, so much as defeated.
It’s difficult to reconcile this version of Hades with all the memories in my head. Memories of his arrogance. His confidence. His lethal sensuality.
There isn’t a single recollection from Persephone’s past that matches the version of Hades before me. He’s never uneasy or hesitant.
This visage, compared with the ones in my mind, confuses me. It… it also hurts. Because I don’t enjoy seeing Hades like this.
Some part of me aches in response. That part of me forces me to move toward him, my hands seeming to reach for him as though I have no control over my reaction.
Maybe this is Persephone taking over my form.
Or maybe it’s just me.
A second chance at life.
That’s what Hades said about resurrection.
But maybe it applies to us as well.
Our soul bond.
A second chance to do this correctly.
Whatever that might mean.
But I know for sure it doesn’t mean this—him standing there with his shoulders somewhat curved inward, his eyes exuding uncertainty, his words littered with apologies that are not his to voice.
Whatever Demeter did isn’t his fault. And he didn’t fail by not being able to obtain answers.
“You’re a good Alpha, Hades,” I tell him, somehow knowing those are the words he needs to hear.
The knowledge comes from deep down. From my soul.
Persephone might be a memory inside me, but her experience is what’s driving my actions now.
“Please don’t feel otherwise.” I press my palm to his chest and go up onto my toes to brush a kiss against his jaw.
It’s so natural.
So intrinsic.
And it draws a sharp intake of breath from him, like I’ve struck a nerve of some kind.
Maybe rekindled something inside him.
Persephone used to do this, I realize with a start. This is how she showed affection.
The understanding has my stomach twisting with a combination of sensations, ones that leave me feeling both sick and relieved at the same time.
It’s… it’s confusing.
Yet I can’t pull away from him.
I… I want to ensure he’s okay. To show that I’m not upset with him. But I want to do it my way. Not like Persephone. Not quite, anyway.
Because I’m still me.
Not Persephone.
Not Serapina.
But Sera.
The version of me who defied Hades’s demands earlier.
The version who chose a village hut and lived alone in a world of deadly fae.
The version who chastised a God for trying to force me to marry him.
That woman is fierce. Independent. And bold.
I’ve lost sight of her over the last week, I think. Too lost in the need to supplicate and give in to fate. To atone for the sins of my soul. To naively accept a future in a plane of nonexistence when I’ve done nothing to deserve that.
The Sera who was determined to live alone and discover herself without anyone else’s help is the Sera I want to be.
That journey began again today.
When I told Maliki what I desired.
Accepted his claim.
Returned his bite.
And embraced his dark side.
I’m going to continue down that path now—but with Hades.
Which is why I kiss his jaw again, just like Persephone would have done eons ago. But I grab his nape, too. Go up even more onto my toes. And angle his head toward mine so I can kiss him.
Because I want to.
Because his lips are addictive.
Because it feels like an eternity since we last embraced.
His hand catches my hip, holding me steady as I press my mouth to his. It’s soft. A little hesitant. And not at all what I want.
Wrapping my arms around his neck, I kiss him again, this time harder. More demanding. Telling him with my lips that I desire more.
He releases a purr that vibrates through my robe and caresses my bare skin. It’s an alluring sound, so beautiful and warm and mine.
When his hand shifts to my lower back and his opposite hand goes to my neck, I practically melt into him.
His rumble intensifies as his tongue slips into my mouth, his warmth and masculinity swathing me in a sea of security and bliss.
I moan, utterly captivated and lost to his touch. His strength. His scent.
Stars, it’s like I’m outside in the snow on a cold wintry night. The aroma of a freshly cut rose in the air. Curling around me. Bathing me in rightness. Making me feel like I’ve finally come home.
I cling to him as he deepens our embrace, his hand moving along my back as he wraps his arm around me. Holding me. Protecting me. Cherishing me.
It’s different from Persephone’s memories, though. He always held her with more caution, as though he was afraid she might break. But there’s a hint of desperation in how he embraces me now, like he’s afraid I’ll disappear.
His arm turns hard around my back, his mouth urgent, his hand a brand against my nape.
I tighten my hold on his neck, too. Giving him the same treatment. Showing him that I’m not afraid. That I might be human, but that doesn’t make me fragile.
I want to be strong.
Powerful.
An equal.
It’s an insane notion, one that can never come to fruition. But that doesn’t mean I won’t try.
Which I proceed to demonstrate with my tongue—sparring with him in a sensual, intimate way and ensuring he knows I’m here. Sera. Not a meek human. Not a former Goddess. But me.
“Fuck, darling. If you keep kissing me like this, I’m going to drag you back to the bedroom and knot you until you can’t walk,” he threatens.
“Do it,” I dare him, feeling bold. Alive. Like the woman I want to be.
“No,” Maliki interjects. “She needs to eat first.”
My gaze narrows. Stop trying to feed me, Maliki. The words go from my mind to his, but Hades speaks before Maliki can respond.
“She hasn’t eaten yet?” Hades asks, his lips brushing mine with each word. “Didn’t I task you with feeding her before I left?”
“Oh, he fed her,” Morpheus drawls. “Cum, at least.”
My eyes widen, heat suddenly suffocating my cheeks. “Morpheus.”