A Touch of Ruin (Hades x Persephone Saga Book 2)

PART I

“Fate’s arrow, when expected, travels slow.”

― Dante Alighieri, Paradiso

Persephone walked along the bank of the river Styx. Jagged waves broke the dark surface and her skin tightened as she recalled her first visit to the Underworld. She’d attempted to traverse the wide body of water, unaware of the dead inhabiting the depths below. They’d taken her under, their fleshless fingers cutting into her skin, their wish to destroy life provoking their attack.

She thought she would drown—and then Hermes had come to her rescue.

Hades had not been pleased about any of it, but he’d taken her to his palace and healed her wounds. Later, she would learn the dead in the river were ancient corpses who had come to the Underworld without coin to pay Charon’s toll. Sentenced to an eternity in the river, they were just one of many ways Hades protected the borders of his realm from the living who wished to enter and the dead who wished to escape.

Despite Persephone’s unease near the waterway, the landscape was beautiful. The Styx stretched for miles, soldering to a horizon shadowed by sable mountains. White narcissus grew in clusters along its banks, ignited like white fire against the dark surface. Opposite the mountains, Hades’ palace haunted the horizon, rising like the jagged edges of his obsidian crown.

Yuri, a young soul with a thick mane of cascading curls and olive skin, walked beside her. She wore pink robes and leather sandals—an ensemble that stood out against the shadowy mountains and black water. The soul and Persephone had become fast friends, and often went on walks together in the Asphodel Valley but today, Persephone had convinced Yuri to stray from their usual path.

She glanced at her companion now, whose arm was looped through hers, and asked, “How long have you been here, Yuri?”

Persephone guessed that the soul had been in the Underworld for a while based on the traditional peplos she wore.

Yuri’s delicate brows drew together over her grey eyes. “I do not know. A long time.”

“Do you remember what the Underworld was like when you arrived?”

Persephone had a lot of questions about the Underworld from antiquity—it was that version that still had its claws in Hades, that version which made him feel ashamed, that version which made him feel unworthy of his peoples’ worship and praise.

“Yes. I don’t know that I’ll ever forget.” She offered an awkward laugh. “It was not as it is now.”

“Tell me more,” Persephone encouraged. Despite being curious about Hades’ past and the history of the Underworld, she couldn’t deny that part of her feared uncovering the truth.

What if she didn’t like what she found?

“The Underworld was…bleak. There was nothing. We were all colorless and crowded. There were no days and no nights, just a monotone of grey and we existed in it.”

So, they really had been shades—shadows of themselves.

Persephone recalled when she’d first visited the Underworld. Hades had taken her into his garden. She’d been so angry with him. He had challenged her to create life, but his realm was beautiful and lush, full of colorful flowers and lively willows. Then he had revealed it was all an illusion. Beneath the glamour he maintained was a land of ash and fire.

“That sounds like punishment,” Persephone said, thinking it terrifying to exist without purpose.

Yuri offered a faint smile and she shrugged. “It was our sentence for living mundane lives.”

Persephone frowned. She knew that in ancient times heroes were usually the only ones who could expect a euphoric existence in the Underworld.

“What changed?”

“I do not know for sure. There were rumors, of course—some said that a mortal Lord Hades loved died and came to exist here.”

Persephone knit her brows. She wondered if there was some truth to that considering Hades had a similar change in perspective after she’d written about his ineffective bargains with mortals. He’d been so motivated by her critique, he’d started The Halcyon Project, a plan that included the construction of a state-of-the-art rehabilitation center that specialized in free care to mortals.

An ugly feeling crept up her spine and through her body, spreading like a plague. Maybe she hadn’t been the only lover who inspired Hades.

Yuri continued, “Of course, I tend to think he just…decided to change. Lord Hades watches the world. As it became less chaotic, so did the Underworld.”

Persephone didn’t think it was that simple. She had tried to make Hades talk about this, but he avoided the subject. Now she wondered if his silence was less about shame and more about keeping the details of his past lovers a secret. She spiraled quickly, her thoughts became turbulent, a whirlwind picking up uncertainty and doubt. How many women had Hades loved? Did he still have feelings for any of them? Had he brought them to the bed he now shared with her?

The thought made her stomach feel sour. Luckily, she was pulled from her thoughts when she spotted a group of souls standing on a pier near the river.

Persephone halted and nodded toward the crowd. “Who are they, Yuri?”

“New souls.”

“Why do they cower on the banks of the Styx?”

Of all the souls Persephone had encountered, these looked the most…dead. Their faces were drawn, and their skin ashy and pale. They clustered together, backs bent, arms cross over their chests, shivering.

“Because they are afraid,” Yuri said, her tone implied that their fear should be obvious.

“I don’t understand.”

“Most have been told the Underworld and its King are dreadful, so when they die, they do so in fear.”

Persephone hated that for a lot of reasons—mainly because the Underworld wasn’t a place to be feared, but she also found that she was frustrated with Hades, who did nothing to change the perception of his realm or himself.

“No one comforts them once they reach the gates?”

Yuri gave her a strange look, as if she didn’t understand why someone would attempt to ease or welcome newly arrived souls.

“Charon takes them across the Styx and now they must walk the road to judgement.” Yuri said. “After that, they are deposited in a place of rest or eternal torture. It is how it has always been.”

Persephone pressed her lips together, her jaw tightening with irritation. It amazed her that in one breath, they could talk about how much the Underworld had evolved, and yet still implement archaic practices. There was no reason to leave these souls without welcome or comfort. She broke free of Yuri’s hold and strolled toward the waiting group, hesitating when they continued to tremble and shrink away from her.

She smiled, hoping it might ease their anxiety.

“Hello. My name is Persephone.”

Still, the souls quaked. She should have known her name would bring no comfort. Her mother, Demeter, the Olympian Goddess of Harvest, had ensured that. Out of fear, she had kept Persephone locked in a glass prison most of her life, barring her from worship, and inevitably, from her powers.

A jumble of emotions tangled in her stomach—frustration that she could not help, sadness that she was weak, and anger that her mother had tried defying fate.

“You should show them your Divinity,” Yuri suggested. She had followed Persephone as she approached the souls.

“Why?”

“It would comfort them. Right now, you are no different than any soul in the Underworld. As a goddess, you are someone they hold in high regard.”

Persephone started to protest. These people did not know her name—how would her Divine form ease their fears?

Then Yuri added, “We worship the Divine. You will bring them hope.”

Persephone did not like her Divine form. She had a hard time feeling like a goddess before she had powers, and that hadn’t changed even when her magic flared to life, encouraged by Hades’ worship. She quickly learned it was one thing to have magic, another to use it properly. Still, it was important to her that these new souls felt welcomed in the Underworld, that they see Hades’ realm as another beginning, and most of all, she wanted to ensure they knew their king cared.

Persephone release the hold she had on her human glamour. The magic felt like silk slipping from her skin and she stood in an ethereal glow before the souls. The weight of her white kudu horns somehow felt heavier now that she was exposed in her true form. Her curly hair was brightened from a brassy gold to a pale yellow and her eyes burned an unearthly bottle-green.

She smiled at the souls again. “I am Persephone, Goddess of Spring. I am so pleased you are here.”

Their reaction to her radiance was immediate. They moved from trembling to worshipping on their knees at her feet. Persephone’s stomach hardened, and her heartbeat quickened as she shot forward.

“Oh no, please,” she knelt before one of the souls—an older woman with short, white hair and paper-thin skin. She touched her cheek and watery-blue eyes met hers.

“Please, stand with me,” she said, and helped the woman to her feet.

The other souls remained on the ground, heads lifted, eyes transfixed.

“What is your name?”

“Elenor,” she rasped.

“Elenor.” Persephone said the name with a smile on her lips. “I hope you will find the Underworld as peaceful as I do.”

Her words were like a string, straightening the woman’s sagging shoulders. Persephone moved to the next soul and the next. Until she has spoken to each one and they all stood on their feet again.

“Perhaps we should all walk to the Field of Judgement,” she suggested.

“Oh, that won’t be necessary,” Yuri interrupted. “Thanatos!”

The winged God of Death appeared instantly. He was beautiful in a dark way, with pale skin, blood-red lips, and white-blonde hair that fell over his shoulders. His blue eyes were as striking as a flash of lightning in the night sky. His presence inspired a sense of calm that Persephone felt deep in her chest. It was almost as if she were weightless.

“My lady,” he bowed, his voice melodic and rich.

“Thanatos,” Persephone couldn’t help the wide smile that crossed her face.

Thanatos had been the first to offer her insight into Hades’ precarious role as the God of the Dead during a tour of Elysium. It was his perspective that helped her understand the Underworld a little better, and if she were being honest, provided what she needed to fully give herself to Hades.

She gestured to the souls gathered and introduced them to the god.

His smile was slight, but sincere as he said, “We’ve met.”

“Oh.” She cheeks flushed. “I’m so sorry. I forgot.”

As the reaper of souls, Thanatos was the last face mortals saw before they landed on the shores of the Styx.

“I was just about to escort the new souls to the Field of Judgement.”

She noted that Thanatos’ eyes widened slightly, and he looked at Yuri who spoke quickly. “Lady Persephone is needed back at the palace. Could you take them for her, Thanatos?”

“Of course,” he replied, bringing his hand to his chest. “I would be delighted.”

Persephone waived goodbye to the souls as Thanatos turned toward the crowd, stretched his wings wide, and vanished.

Yuri wound her arm through Persephone’s, tugging her away from the banks of the Styx, but Persephone didn’t budge.

“Why did you do that?” she asked.

“Do what?”

“I am not needed at the palace, Yuri. I could have taken the souls to the field.”

“I am sorry, Persephone. I feared they would make requests.”

“Requests?” her brows drew together. “What might they request?”

“Favors,” she explained.

Persephone giggled at the thought. “I am hardly in a position to grant favors.”

“They don’t know that,” she said. “All they see is a goddess who might help them get an audience with Hades or return to the living world.”

Persephone frowned. “Why do you think that?”

“Because I was one of them.”

Yuri tugged on her arm again, and this time, Persephone followed. Strained silence filled the space between them, and Persephone frowned.

“I’m sorry, Yuri. Sometimes I forget—”

“That I’m dead?” She smiled, but Persephone felt small and silly. “It’s okay. That’s one of the reasons I like you so much,” she paused a moment, and added. “Hades chose his consort well.”

“His consort?” Persephone’s brows rose.

“Isn’t it obvious that Hades intends to marry you?”

Persephone laughed. “You are being very presumptive, Yuri.”

Except that Hades had made his intentions clear. You will be my queen. I do not need the Fates to tell me that. Her chest tightened, the words forming knots in her stomach.

Those words should have made her heart melt and the fact that they didn’t disturbed her. Maybe it had something to do with their recent breakup. Why did she feel such apprehension when Hades seemed so certain about their future?

Yuri, oblivious to Persephone’s internal war, said, “Why wouldn’t Lord Hades choose you as queen? You are an unwed goddess and you haven’t taken a vow of chastity.”

The soul gave her a knowing look that made Persephone blush.

“Being a goddess does not qualify me to be Queen of the Underworld.”

“No, but it’s a start. Hades would never choose a mortal or a nymph as his queen. Trust me, he has had plenty of opportunities.”

A shock of jealousy shot down Persephone’s spine. It was like a match landing in a pool of kerosene. Her magic surged, demanding an exit. It was a defense mechanism, and it took her a moment to tamp it down.

Get a hold of yourself, she commanded.

She wasn’t ignorant to the fact that Hades had other lovers throughout his lifetime—one being the red-headed nymph, Minthe who she’d transformed into a mint plant. Still, she had never considered that Hades’ interest in her might be, in part, due to her Divine blood. Something dark wound its way around her heart. How could she let herself think this way about Hades? He encouraged her to embrace her Divinity, worshipped her so that she might claim her freedom and power, and he’d told her he loved her. If he was to make her his queen, it would be because he cared for her, not because she was a goddess.

Right?

Persephone soon distracted from her thoughts as she and Yuri returned to the Asphodel Valley where she was swarmed by children who begged her to play. After a short game of hide-and-seek, she was dragged away by Ophelia, Elara, and Anastasia who wanted her opinion on wines, cakes, and flowers for the upcoming Summer Solstice Celebration.

The solstice marked the beginning of the new year and signified the one-month countdown to the Panhellenic Games—something even death couldn’t quell the souls’ excitement for. With such an important celebration at hand, Persephone had asked Hades if they could host a party at the palace, to which he had agreed. She was looking forward to having the souls in the halls again, just as much as they were looking forward to being there.

By the time Persephone returned to the palace, she still felt unsettled. The darkness of her doubt swelled, pressing against her skull, and her magic pulsed beneath her skin, making her feel achy and exhausted. She rang for tea and wandered into the library, hoping that reading would take her mind off her conversation with Yuri.

Curling into one of the large chairs near the fireplace, Persephone leafed through Hecate’s copy of Witchcraft and Mayhem. It was one of several assignments from the Goddess of Magic, who was helping her learn to control her erratic power.

It wasn’t working as fast as she hoped.

Persephone had waited a long time for her powers to manifest, and when they did, it had been during a heated argument with Hades. Since then, she had managed to make flowers bloom but had trouble channeling the appropriate amount of magic. She had also discovered her ability to teleport was glitchy which meant she didn’t always end up where she intended. Hecate said it was just a matter of practice, but it still made her feel like a failure, and it was for these reasons, she’d decided not to use magic in the Upperworld.

Not until she got it under control.

So, in preparation for her first lesson with Hecate, she studied, learning the history of magic, alchemy, and the diverse and terrifying powers of the gods, yearning for the day when she could use her power as easily as she breathed.

Suddenly, warmth spread across her skin, raising the hair on the back of her neck and arms. Despite the heat, she shivered, her breath growing shallow.

Hades was near, and her body knew it.

She wanted to groan as an ache began low in her stomach.

Gods. She was insatiable.

“I thought I would find you here,” Hades’ voice came from above, and she looked up to find him standing behind her. His smokey eyes met hers as he bent to kiss her, his hand cupping her jaw. It was a possessive hold, and a passionate kiss that left her lips raw when he pulled away.

“How was your day, darling?”

His endearment stole her breathe.

“Good.”

The corners of Hades’ mouth lifted and as he spoke, his eyes dropped to her lips.

“I hope I’m not disturbing you. You appeared quite entranced by your book.”

“No.” She said quickly, then cleared her throat. “I mean…it’s just something Hecate assigned.”

“May I?” he asked, releasing her from his grip and holding his hand out for the book.

Wordlessly, she gave it to him and watched as the God of the Dead rounded her chair and leafed through the book. There was something incredibly devilish about the way he looked, a storm of darkness dressed head to toe in black.

“When do you begin training with Hecate?” he asked.

“This week,” she said. “She gave me homework.”

“Hmm.” He was silent, keeping his eyes on the book as he spoke. “I heard you greeted new souls today.”

Persephone straightened, unable to tell if he was irritated with her.

“I was walking with Yuri when I saw them waiting on the bank of the Styx.”

Hades looked up, eyes like firelight.

“You took a soul outside Asphodel?” There was a hint of surprise in his voice.

“It’s Yuri, Hades. Besides, I do not know why you keep them isolated.”

“So they do not cause trouble.”

Persephone giggled, but stopped when she saw the look in Hades’ eyes. He stood between her and the fireplace, ignited like an angel. He really was magnificent with his high cheekbones, well-manicured beard, and full lips. His long hair was pulled into a knot at the back of his head. She liked it that way because she liked taking it down, liked running her fingers through it, liked seizing it when he was inside her.

At that thought, the air became heavier, and she noticed Hades’ chest rose with a sharp inhaled as if he could sense the change in her thoughts. She licked her lips and forced herself to focus on the conversation at hand.

“The souls in Asphodel never cause trouble.”

“You think I am wrong.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement and he didn’t seem at all surprised. Their whole relationship had started because Persephone thought he was wrong.

“I think you do not give yourself enough credit for having changed, and therefore do not give the souls enough credit for recognizing it.”

The god was silent for a long moment. “Why did you greet the souls?”

“Because they were afraid, and I didn’t like it.”

Hades’ mouth twitched. “Some of them should be afraid, Persephone.”

“Those who should, will be, no matter the greeting they have from me.”

Mortals know what led to eternal imprisonment in Tartarus, she thought.

“The Underworld is beautiful, and you care about your people’s existence, Hades. Why should the good fear such a place? Why should they fear you?”

“As it were, they still fear me. You were the one who greeted them.”

“You could greet them with me,” she offered.

Hades smirk remained, and his expression softened. “As much as you find disfavor with the title of queen, you are quick to act as one.”

Persephone froze for a moment, caught between the fear of Hades’ anger and the anxiety of being called queen.

“Does…that displease you?”

“Why would it displease me?”

“I am not queen,” she said, rising from her seat and approaching him, plucking the book from his hands. “I also cannot figure out how you feel about my actions.”

“You will be my queen,” Hades said fiercely, almost like he was trying to convince himself it was true. “The Fates have declared it.”

Persephone bristled, her earlier thoughts returning in a rush. How was she supposed to ask Hades why he wanted her as his queen? Worse, why did she feel like she needed him to answer that question? She turned and disappeared into the stack to hide her reaction.

“Does that displease you?” Hades asked, appearing in front of her, blocking her path like a mountain.

Persephone startled but recovered quickly.

“No,” she replied, pushing past him.

Hades followed close.

As she returned the book to its place on the shelf, she spoke. “Although, I would rather you want me as queen because you love me, not because the Fates have degreed it.”

Hades waited until she faced him to speak. He was frowning. “You doubt my love?”

“No!” Her eyes widened at the conclusion he’d come to, then her shoulders fell. “But…I suppose we cannot avoid what others may perceive about our relationship.”

“And what do others say, exactly?” He stood so close she could smell spice and smoke and a touch of winter air. It was the scent of his magic.

A shoulder rose and fell as she said, “That we are only together because of the Fates. That you have only chosen me because I am a goddess.”

“Have I given you reason to think such things?”

She stared, unable to answer. She didn’t want to say that Yuri had planted the idea in her head. The thought had been there before—a seed planted early on. Yuri had merely watered it and now it was growing, as wild as the black vines that sprouted from her magic.

Hades spoke faster, demanding. “Who has given you doubts?”

“I have only just started to consider—”

“My motives?”

“No—”

He narrowed his eyes. “It seems that way.”

Persephone took a step away, the bookcase pressing into her back. “I am sorry I said anything.”

“It is too late for that.”

Persephone glared. “Will you punish me for speaking my mind?”

“Punish?” Hades tilted his head to the side, and he moved closer, hips leaning into hips, leaving no space between them. “I am interested to hear how you think I might punish you.”

Those words wound her tight, and despite the heat they inspired, she managed to glare at him.

“I am interested in having my questions answered.”

Hades jaw tightened. “Remind me again of your question.”

She blinked. Was she asking him if he had only chosen her because she was a goddess? Was she asking him if he loved her?

She took a deep breath and peered up at him through her lashes. “If there were no Fates, would you still want me?”

She couldn’t place the look on Hades’ face. His eyes were a laser, melting her chest and her heart and her lungs. She couldn’t breath as she waited for him to speak—and he didn’t. Instead, he reached for her with one hand and clasped her jaw. His body vibrated—she could feel the violence beneath, and for a moment she wondered what the King of the Underworld intended to unleash.

Then his grip softened, and his fingers splayed across her cheek, eyes lowering to her lips.

“Do you know how I knew the Fates made you for me?” His voice was a hoarse whisper, a tone he used in the darkness of their room after they made love. Persephone shook her head slowly, ensnared by his gaze. “I could taste it on your skin and the only thing I regret is that I have lived so long without you.”

His lips trailing along her jaw and across her cheek. She held her breath, leaning into his touch, seeking his mouth, but instead of kissing her, he stepped away.

His sudden distance left her unsteady, and she leaned against the bookshelf for support.

“What was that?” she demanded, glaring at him.

He offered a dark chuckle, the corners of his mouth lifting. “Foreplay.”

The he reached forward, swept her into his arms and over his shoulder. Persephone gave a small yelp of surprise, and demanded, “What are you doing?”

“Proving that I want you.”

He strolled out of the library and into the hall.

“Put me down, Hades!”

“No.”

She had a feeling he was grinning. His hand crept up between her thighs, parting her flesh, and diving inside of her. She gripped the fabric of his jacket so she wouldn’t fall off his shoulder.

“Hades!” she moaned.

He chuckled, and she hated him for it. She released his long locks and yanked on the strands, pulling his head back, seeking his lips. Hades’ was obliging and braced her against the nearest wall offering a vicious kiss before pulling away to growl in her ear.

“I will punish you until you scream, until you come so hard around my cock, you are left in no doubt of my affection.”

His words stole her breath and her magic awakened, warming her skin.

“Make good on your promises, Lord Hades,” she said against his mouth.

Then the wall beneath Persephone gave way and she yelped as Hades stumbled forward. He managed to prevent them both from landing on the floor, and once they were steady, he guided her to her feet. She recognized the way he held her—protectively, an arm wrapped high on her shoulders. She craned her neck and discovered they were in the dining room. The banquet table was crowded with Hades’ staff, including Thanatos, Hecate, and Charon.

The wall they’d been pressed against was a door.

Hades cleared his throat, and Persephone buried her head into Hades’ chest.

“Good evening,” Hades said, she was surprised by how calm he sounded when he spoke. He wasn’t even breathless, though she could feel his heart beating hard against her ear. She thought Hades would excuse himself and vanish, but instead he said, “The Lady Persephone and I are famished, and we wish to be alone.”

She froze and jabbed him in the side.

What was he doing?

All at once, people started to move, clearing away plates, silverware, and huge platters of untouched food.

“Good evening, my lady—my lord.”

They filed out of the dining room with glittering eyes and wide smiles. Persephone kept her gaze lowered, a perpetual blush on her cheeks as Hades’ residents paraded into the hall to dine elsewhere in the palace.

When they were alone, Hades wasted no time leaning into her, guiding her back until her legs hit the table.

“You cannot be serious.”

“As the dead,” he answered.

“The…dining room?”

“I’m quite hungry, aren’t you?”

Yes.

But she had no time to respond. Hades lifted her onto the table, stepped between her legs, and knelt as a servant would kneel to their queen. Her dress rose as his hands trailed up her calves. He teased, lips skimming the inside of her thighs before his mouth found her core.

Persephone arch off the table and her breath hitched as Hades worked, his tongue ruthless in its assault, his short beard creating a delicious friction against her sensitive flesh. She reached for him, tangling her fingers into his hair, writhing beneath this touch.

Hades held her tighter, his fingers digging into her flesh to hold her in place. A guttural sound escaped her when his lips fastening around her cleft and his fingers replaced his thrusting tongue, filling and stretching until pleasure exploded throughout her body.

She was sure she was glowing.

This was rapture, euphoria, ecstasy.

And it was all interrupted by a knock at the door.

Persephone froze and tried to sit up, but Hades held her in place and growled looking up at her from his place between her legs.

“Ignore it.” It was spoken like a command, his eyes ignited like embers.

He continued ruthlessly, moving deeper, harder, faster. Persephone could barely stay on the table, she could barely breath, feeling as though she were clawing her way to the surface of the Styx again, desperate for air, but content in the knowledge that this death would be a happy one.

But the knock continued, and a hesitant voice called out, “Lord Hades?”

Persephone couldn’t tell who was on the other side of the door, but they sounded nervous and they had reason to be, because the look on Hades face was murderous.

This is how he looks when he faces souls in Tartarus, she thought.

Hades sat back on his heels.

“Go away,” he snapped.

There was a beat of silence. Then the voice said, “It’s important, Hades.”

Even Persephone noted to heightened alarm in the person’s tone. Hades sighed and stood, taking her face between his hands.

“A moment, my darling.”

“You won’t hurt him, will you?”

“Not too terribly.”

He didn’t smile as he stepped into the hallway.

Persephone felt ridiculous sitting on the edge of the table, so she slipped off, adjusted her skirts, and started to pace the extravagant dining room. Her first impression of this room had been that it was over-the-top. The ceiling boasted several unnecessary crystal chandeliers, the walls were adorned in gold, and Hades’ chair looked like a throne at the head of the table. To top it off, he rarely dined in this room, often preferring to take his meals elsewhere in the palace. That was one reason she’d decided to use it during the Solstice Celebration—all this beauty would not go to waste.

Hades returned. He seemed frustrated, his jaw flexed, and his eyes glittered with a different kind of intensity. He stopped a few inches from her, hands in his pockets.

“Is everything okay?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said. “And no. Ilias has made me aware of a problem better dealt with sooner than later.”

She stared at him, waiting, but he didn’t explain.

“When will you be back?”

“An hour. Maybe two.”

She frowned, and Hades’ touched her chin so that her eyes were level with his. “Trust, my darling, leaving you is the hardest decision I make each day.”

“Then don’t,” she said, placing her hands around his waist. “I’ll go with you.”

“That is not wise.” His voice was gruff, and Persephone’s brows knit together.

“Why not?”

“Persephone—”

“It’s a simple question,” she interrupted.

“It isn’t,” he snapped, and then sighed, running his fingers through his loose hair.

She stared. He had never lost this temper quite like this. What had him so agitated? She thought about pushing for an answer, but knew she would get nowhere, so instead, she relent.

“Fine,” she took a step away, creating distance between them. “I’ll be here when you return.”

Hades frowned. “I will make it up to you.”

She arched a brow and commanded, “Swear it.”

Hades’ eyes simmer beneath the glow of the crystal lights.

“Oh, darling. You don’t need to extract an oath. Nothing will keep me from fucking you.”