Chapter 5
WOLFE
My last visit to the Castle of Hades had been a rushed venture in the darkness of night.
Now I had time to take it all in. Afternoon sunlight filtered through stained-glass windows, bathing the black marble floors in a purple glow.
Writhing monsters and souls cast in eternal agony decorated the forest of pillars we passed.
It did nothing to ease the sense of dread that was spreading through my body with each echoing step.
The heat that had once consumed this space was absent.
Soft puffs of icy fog left my mouth with each breath. I felt frostbitten.
The biggest difference, however, was the rows of soldiers stationed at every pillar.
Their blue vests, matching the garb of Poseidon’s army, made the addition even stranger.
I would have assumed wraiths would be used to protect Hades, but there weren't any around. Likely they limited interaction to improve the humans’ chances of survival.
"Additional security, I see," I muttered.
"Thanks to you," she snarled in response. "Rotated every four hours to ensure they don't cross over. A necessary precaution according to the immortal council."
That seemed to piss her off to no end, and I loved that I had caused her some discomfort over the past hundred years.
She had taken everything from me, reduced me to this mere wraith that existed to float in her orbit and obsess over her presence for an eternity.
Additional security guards with their noses up her ass were the least she deserved.
A woman appeared out of thin air in a cloud of smoke and strode toward us. She held such confidence in her posture that I would have thought her a live human. However, blackened voids in her eye sockets became visible as she approached. This was a soul.
"Your Majesty, I am grateful you have returned!" The woman's gaze trailed from her goddess to me, and surprise marred her petite features. She tucked a strand of her mousy brown hair behind her ear. "He finally caved then? And looking a bit… frozen." She smirked.
I was used to being spoken about as if I wasn't there.
It was often how my cabal had negotiated deals for my services, as though I were an item to be auctioned off.
It had never bothered me, as it saved me time and energy I didn't care to give.
I sank into that sensation and willed my mind to go blank rather than give in to the anger boiling away at my chilled insides.
Hades perused me for a moment before returning her gaze to the woman. "Indeed he did. Put up a good fight though. Any updates for me, Lamia?"
Lamia gave me a cursory once-over with a bemused expression like a librarian reviewing a damaged book. She then devoted her attention to Hades. "Nothing crucial, ma'am. A few souls seek an audience, and you received a letter from Hermes."
Hades’s expression hardened. "What does that feathered gossip want?"
"I wouldn't know, ma'am."
Hades chuckled. "Oh darling, let's not pretend that you haven't been reading my mail for going on two centuries."
A mischievous grin spread across Lamia’s face, and she blushed.
I was surprised at the nefarious light in her expression.
Hades was an incredibly powerful immortal.
Since her birth over three centuries ago, she had controlled the souls of the dead, and the person who controlled the afterlife controlled the living as well, lest she cast us into a pit of hellfire.
Or, in my case, force me to relive my most horrific moments over and over again.
Yet this woman, that could be mistaken for a miniature librarian seemed to have some level of footing with the immortal.
I scanned the woman warily and filed the information away.
Lamia shifted her feet. "It's best if you read it yourself, ma'am."
Hades nodded as understanding lit her expression. I was acquainted with that feeling as well: the tension that came from being intentionally kept in the dark. It made my skin tight and my jaw tick. Knowledge was power, and I was in rather short supply.
"Let's get our new resident acquainted, then we can speak privately," Hades decided.
Lamia dipped into a curtsy. "Anything else you need?"
"Have a bed brought up to my suite."
"Would a twin suffice, ma'am?"
A feral, vindictive expression warped Hades’s features.
My gut dropped, but I kept my expression stony.
The best method to endure this was to not let this monster know what bothered me.
Hades was a conniving psychopath who hunted out weaknesses for sport to exploit them when it best suited her. I could not give her that.
"Smaller, darling Lamia."
I fought back my grimace, especially as Lamia's expression lit up like a kid at a birthday party. She clapped her hands together and snickered. "I understand entirely."
Now I understood. This librarian was a sadistic cunt too. No wonder they got along so well.