A Touch of Darkness (Hades x Persephone Saga Book 1)

Persephone woke to find Hades asleep beside her. He lay on his back, black sheets covering the lower half of his body, leaving the contours of his stomach exposed. His hair spilled over his pillow, his jaw covered in stubble, and she longed to reach out and trace his perfect brows, nose, and lips. But she didn’t want to wake him, and the move seemed too intimate.

She realized that sounded ridiculous considering what had taken place between them last night. Still, touching him without invitation or initiation seemed like something a lover might do, and Persephone did not feel like Hades’ lover.

She wasn’t even sure she wanted to be a lover. She’d always imagined falling in love as something heady, almost shy—but things with the Lord of the Dead had been anything but shy. Their attraction was carnal and greedy and burning. It stole her breath, crowded her mind, invaded her body.

Heat started to build in the pit of her stomach, igniting the desire she’d felt so strongly yesterday. Breathe, she told herself, willing the warmth to dissipate.

After a moment, she slipped out of bed, found the black robe Hades had let her borrow when she’d first come to the Underworld, and tugged it on. Wandering onto the balcony, she let herself take a deep breath, and in the quiet of the day the full weight of what she had done with Hades crashed down on her. She had never been so confused or afraid.

Confused because her feelings for the god were all tangled up—she was angry with him, mostly because of the contract, but otherwise intrigued; and the way he’d made her feel last night—well, nothing compared. He had worshipped her. He had laid himself bare, admitting his desire for her. Together, they had been vulnerable and senseless and savage. She didn’t need to look in the mirror to know that her skin was discolored in all the places Hades had bit and sucked and gripped. He had explored parts of her no one else had.

And that was where the fear came in.

She was losing herself in this god, in this world beneath her own. Before, when all they’d shared was a moment of weakness in the baths, she might have sworn to stay away and meant it; but if she said it now, it would just be a lie.

Whatever was between them, it was powerful. She had felt it the moment she laid eyes on the god. Knew it deep in her soul. Every interaction since then had been a desperate attempt to ignore their truth—that they were meant to come together—and Sybil had confirmed that last night.

It was destiny, woven by the Fates.

But Persephone knew there were many such alliances, and being meant for each other didn’t mean perfection or even happiness. Sometimes it was chaos and strife—and given how tumultuous her life had been since she met Hades, nothing good would come from their love.

Why was she thinking about love?

She pushed those thoughts away. This wasn’t about love. It was about satisfying the electric attraction that had been building between them since that first night in Nevernight. Now it was done. She wouldn’t let herself regret it; instead, she would embrace it. Hades had made her feel powerful. He had made her feel like the goddess she was supposed to be—and she had enjoyed every bit of it.

She took another breath as heat rose from the bottom of her stomach. As she inhaled the crisp Underworld air, she felt something…different.

It was warm. It was a pulse. It was life.

It felt distant, like a memory she knew existed but couldn’t quite recall, and when it started to fade, she chased it.

Descending the steps into the garden, she halted on the black stone, her heart racing. She tried to calm herself again, holding her breath until her chest grew tight.

Just when she thought she’d lost it, she felt the feather-light pulse at the edges of her senses.

Magic.

It was magic. Her magic!

She stepped off the path and wandered into the gardens. Surrounded by roses and peonies, she closed her eyes and breathed deep. The calmer she became, the more life she felt around her. It warmed her skin and soaked deep into her veins, as heady as the lust she felt for Hades.

“Are you well?”

Persephone’s eyes flew open, and she turned to face the God of the Dead a few paces behind her. She’d stood beside him often enough, but this morning, in the garden surrounded by flowers and wearing only a wrap around his waist and still in his Divine form, he seemed to swallow her vision. Her eyes fell from his face to his chest and down, tracing all the planes of his body she’d touched and tasted last night.

“Persephone?” His voice took on a lustful tone, and when she met his gaze again, she knew he was restraining himself. She managed a smile.

“I’m well,” she said.

Hades took a breath and approached her, clasping her chin between his fingers. She thought he would kiss her, but instead he asked, “You are not regretting our night together?”

“No!” Her eyes lowered, and she repeated herself quietly. “No.”

Hades’ thumb passed over her bottom lip. “I don’t think I could handle your regret.”

He kissed her, his fingers threaded through her hair, and cupped the back of her head, holding her to him. It wasn’t long before her robe parted, leaving her most sensitive skin exposed to the morning. Hades’ hands trailed down her body, gripping her thighs, and he lifted and thrusted into her. She gasped and held him tightly, moving against him harder and faster, feeling wave after wave of pleasure rush through her body while life fluttered around her.

It was intoxicating.

Persephone buried her face in the crook of Hades’ neck, biting down hard as she shattered in his arms. A growl tore through his throat, and he pumped into her harder until she felt him pulse inside her. He held her a moment while they breathed hard against each other before he withdrew and helped her to the ground. She held onto him, legs shaky, fearing she might fall. Hades seemed to notice and picked her up, cradling her against him.

Persephone closed her eyes. She didn’t want him to see what was in them. It was true she didn’t regret last night or this morning, but she had questions—not only for him, but for herself. What were they doing? What did this night mean for them? Their future? Her contract? What would she do the next time things started to go too far?

They returned to Hades’ room and showered, but when Persephone went to pick up her discarded dress, she frowned. It was far too dressy to wear around the Underworld, and she planned to stay a while. “Do you…have something I can wear?

Hades gave her an appraising look. “What you have on will be just fine.”

She gave him a pointed look. “You’d rather I wander your palace naked? In front of Hermes and Charon—”

Hades jaw tightened. “On second thought—” he disappeared and returned in an instant, carrying a length of fabric in a beautiful shade of green. “Will you allow me to dress you?”

She swallowed hard. She was getting used to these kinds of words coming out of his mouth, but still, it was odd. He was ancient and powerful and gorgeous. He was known for his ruthless assessment of souls and impossible bargains, and yet he was asking to dress her after a night of passionate sex.

Would wonders never cease?

She nodded, and Hades set to work wrapping the fabric around her body. He took his time, using the task as an excuse to touch and kiss and tease, and by the time he finished, her body was flush. It took everything in her power to let him pull away. She wanted to demand that he finish what he started, but then they would never leave this room.

He kissed her before they left his chambers for a beautiful dining room. It was almost a little ridiculous; several chandeliers cut through the middle of the ceiling, and a gold coat of arms hung on the wall over an ornate throne-like chair at the end of an ebony banquet table crowded with chairs. It was a banquet hall for more than just her and Hades.

“You actually eat in here?” Persephone asked.

Hades lips quirked. “Yes, but not often. I usually take my breakfast to go.”

Hades pulled out a chair and helped Persephone sit. Once he took his seat, a couple of nymphs entered the dining hall with trays of fruit, meat, cheese, and bread. Minthe followed them, and as the nymphs placed the food on the table she came to stand between Persephone and and Hades.

“My lord,” Minthe said. “You have a full schedule today.”

“Clear the morning,” he said without looking at her.

“It’s already eleven, my lord,” Minthe said tightly.

Hades filled his plate and when he finished, looked at Persephone. “Are you not hungry, darling?”

Though he had been calling her darling since they met, he’d never said it in front of anyone. A glance at Minthe told her the nymph didn’t like it.

“No,” she said. “I…usually only drink coffee for breakfast.”

He stared at her for a moment, and then, with a flick of his wrist, a steaming cup of coffee appeared before her. “Cream? Sugar?”

“Cream,” she smiled, and when it was given she cupped her hands around the mug. “Thank you.”

“What are your plans today?” Hades asked.

It took Persephone a moment to realize he was talking to her. “Oh, I need to write—”

She stopped abruptly.

“Your article?” Hades finished. She could not tell what he was thinking, but she felt it wasn’t good.

“I will be along shortly, Minthe,” Hades said at length, and Persephone’s heart fell. “Leave us.”

“As you wish, my lord.” There was a note of amusement to Minthe’s voice that Persephone hated.

When they were alone, Hades asked, “So, you will continue to write about my faults?”

“I don’t know what I’m going to write this time,” she said. “I…”

“You what?”

“I hoped I might be able to interview a few of your souls.”

“The ones on your list?”

“I don’t want to write about the Olympian Gala or The Halcyon Project,” she explained. “All the other newspapers will jump on those stories.”

Hades stared at her for a long moment, then wiped his mouth with his napkin, pushed away from the table, and stood, striding toward the exit. Persephone followed. “I thought we agreed we wouldn’t leave each other when we’re angry? Didn’t you request that we work through it?”

Hades twisted toward her. “It’s just that I’m not particularly excited that my lover is continuing to write about my life.”

She blushed at hearing him call her lover. She thought about correcting him but decided against it. “It’s my assignment. I can’t just stop.”

“It wouldn’t have been your assignment if you had heeded my request.”

Persephone crossed her arms over her chest. “You never request anything, Hades. Everything is an order. You ordered me not to write about you. You said there would be consequences.”

His face changed then, and the look he gave her was more endearing than angry. It made her heart flutter. “And yet you went through with it anyway.”

She opened her mouth to deny it, because the reality was that she hadn’t—Adonis had, and despite the fact that she really disliked the creep of a mortal, she didn’t want Hades to know he was responsible. In truth, she’d rather deal with Adonis herself.

“I should have expected it,” he said, drawing his finger along her jaw, tipping her head back. “You are defiant and angry with me.”

“I’m not…” she started to say, but then Hades’ hands cupped her face.

“Shall I remind you that I can taste lies, darling?” He brushed her bottom lip with his thumb. “I could spend all day kissing you.”

“No one’s stopping you,” she said, surprised by the words that came out of her mouth. Where was this boldness coming from?

But Hades only chuckled and pressed his lips to hers.