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

When Persephone opened her eyes, the first thing she noticed were black silk sheets. She caressed them, brows knitting together. How had she gotten in Hades’ room? She rolled over, thinking she might find him beside her, but the bed was empty. Then she heard the clink of a glass and her eyes shifted to Hades’ bar.

Hermes was standing in front of it and he had frozen at the sound, looking to see if he’d woken her.

“Hermes?” she asked.

The God of Trickery turned fully holding a decanter of amber liquid and a glass. “Sorry, Sephy. I needed a drink.”

“What are you doing here?” she asked, sitting up in bed.

“What am I doing here? What were you doing last night?”

Persephone’s brows drew together. “What do you mean?”

Hermes’ cocked his head to the side. “You really don’t remember?”

“I went for a walk,” she said and shrugged.

“That was some walk,” Hermes scoffed. “Hades freaked the fuck out. He couldn’t find you or sense you anywhere. I’ve never seen him so…”

“Angry?”

Hermes looked at her like she was crazy.

“No, distraught. This is the Underworld. His territory. He thought something bad had happened. He summoned every deity in the Underworld to look for you…and me.”

“I just…got lost. I wanted to clear my head. I meditated for a little while like Hecate told me to do, and when I was finished, it was dark. I couldn’t find my way back. I didn’t mean to make anyone worry. I just wanted to be alone.”

“Well, enjoy that because I don’t think Hades will let you out of his sight for the foreseeable future.”

She raised a brow. “You mean like now?”

“I’m babysitting,” he said, almost proudly and Persephone rolled his eyes.

“And why are you babysitting?”

“Because Apollo’s here.”

Persephone froze, and Hermes face drained of color as the god realized his mistake.

“What?”

“Did I say Apollo was here? I meant that he’s on his way. He’s most definitely not here. Hades is not meeting with Apollo in the throne room without you….fuck.”

Persephone was already out of bed.

“Persephone!” Hermes called as she left the room. “Sephy! Get back here! No one will take you seriously with that hair!”

She ignored him taking off toward the throne room, her feet slipping on the marble as she went. She burst inside where she found Hades and Apollo standing opposite each other. They really were quite the pair—shadow and light meeting on a marble battlefield.

Apollo was beautiful in his mortal form. He was boyish, athletic, and smaller than Hades. He had a crown of dark curls, a square jaw, and dimples that added to what might be youthful charm if he didn’t appear so angry.

Hades, on the other hand, was raw, primal masculinity. He towered over Hermes, his hair a halo of darkness. There was a maturity to Hades’ features that had nothing to do with his well-manicured beard or tailored suit—it was in his eyes—black, endless eyes that had seen lifetimes of strife.

When she entered, the two gods turned to her.

“So, the mortal has come to play,” Apollo remarked.

Hades glared over Persephone’s shoulder at Hermes who had followed her. The god held up his hands to stave off Hades’ anger.

“What? She guessed!”

Hades turned back to Apollo. “The deal is done. You will not touch her.”

“What deal?” Persephone demanded.

The two gods looked at her again, Apollo amused, Hades, angry, but she didn’t care. While she understood Hades wanted to keep her safe from Apollo, he couldn’t just exclude her from this conversation. She had started it, she had things to say, and Apollo would hear her out.

“Your lover has struck a deal,” Apollo said. The way he said lover slithered across her skin in all the wrong ways. It made her dislike it more, but maybe that was because she felt there was a certain amount of disrespect associated with it—that she was fleeting, temporary. She felt that way now with this meeting having gone on without her.

“I have agreed not to punish you for your…slanderous article…and in turn, Hades has offered me a favor…to be collected at a future time.”

Hermes whistled. “Damn. He really does love you, Sephy.”

They all glared at Hermes.

Hades offering Apollo a favor was huge. The god could literally ask for anything and Hades would have to grant it. A knot settled in the pit of her stomach, but it wasn’t guilt—it was dread. Why would Hades’ offer something so precious without telling her first?

Because he thought it was the only way to protect you, she thought, and you wouldn’t have let him do it.

“I will not agree to this,” Persephone said.

“You don’t have a choice, mortal.”

Persephone’s eyes burned, and she felt Hades’ magic rising to subdue her own, for which she was thankful. If Apollo knew she was a goddess, he would have leverage against her, and the god would use it, given his vengeful past.

“I’m the one who wrote the article,” she said. “Your deal should be with me.”

“Persephone.”

Her name slipped from between Hades’ teeth, and Apollo threw his head back, laughing.

“What could you possibly offer me?”

Persephone’s fists curled, her nails digging into her palms. “You hurt my friend,” she hissed.

“Whatever your friend did must have warranted punishment or she would not be in the situation she is in.”

It enraged her that he didn’t even seem to know which friend he’d hurt.

“You mean to tell me her refusal to be your lover warrants punishment?”

Apollo froze, though his expression remained passive.

Persephone continued, “You took away her livelihood because she declined to sleep with you. That is insane and pathetic.”

“Persephone,” Hades’ warned.

“You be quiet!” she snapped. She never thought she’d get tired of hearing her name on Hades’ lips, but right now, she wanted him to shut up. “You chose not to include me in this conversation. I will speak my mind.”

The god’s lips thinned, and his eyes burned. She could feel the frustration brewing under his skin, it made her own tingle.

Hermes was laughing. She ignored him and turned toward Apollo.

“I only wrote about your past lovers. I didn’t even touch on what you have done to Sybil. If you don’t undo her punishment, I will dismantle you.”

There was silence, and Apollo chuckled, narrowing his eyes. “You are a fiery little mortal. I could use someone like you.”

“Speak further, nephew, and you will have no reason to fear her threat because I will tear you to pieces.”

Apollo offered Hades an unsavory glance, his eyes returning to Persephone quickly who promoted, “Well?”

Apollo stared at her for a long moment, and, with a small smile on his lips that made her stomach knot, he said, “Fine. I will return your little friend’s powers and I’ll take Hades’ favor as well, but you will not write another word about me—no matter what. Understand?”

Persephone lifted her chin. “Words are binding, and I do not trust you enough to agree.”

Apollo chuckled. “You have taught her well, Hades.”

The God of Music dared take a step toward her. She sensed both Hades and Hermes straighten. The tension was so thick, Persephone couldn’t breathe. Apollo bent, his face close to hers—and despite his eyes being the most beautiful shade of blue she’d ever seen, there was something sinister behind them. It made her want to vomit.

“Let me put it this way—you write another word about me and I’ll destroy everything you love. And before you consider the fact that you love another god, remember that I have his favor. If I want to keep you apart forever, I can.”

That sent a chill of fear down Persephone’s spine. She glanced at Hades, wondering if the threat was real. Her lover’s expression told her it was.

“Noted,” she said from between her teeth. The god straightened.

“I will warn you now, Apollo,” Hades’ voice was reverent. “If any harm comes to Persephone, favor or not, I will bury you and everything you love in ash.”

Apollo offered a cold smile. “You’ll only have me to bury, Hades. Nothing I love exists anymore.”

Apollo left—vanishing in a blinding ray of light. The throne room was silent, and Persephone found that she was hesitant to face Hades. She had ruined his plans and deliberately disobeyed him in front of another god.

“Well, that could have gone better,” Hermes said, clearly amused. Persephone cringed at his tone, knowing Hades wouldn’t be pleased.

“Why are you still here?” Hades asked through gritted teeth.

“He was babysitting me,” Persephone snapped, glaring at him. “Or did you forget?”

He might be angry about how all of this played out, but she blamed him for that. He’d spent the last few days ignoring her instead of talking through the conversation with Apollo—and didn’t he always insist that they talk? How could he think she wouldn’t want to fight for her friend if given the chance?

“How can you say you wish for me to be your queen when given the opportunity to treat me as your equal, you fuck it up completely? Does your word mean nothing?”

Hades eyes widened, surprised by her words. It was the blow she wanted to land. She turned from him, looped her arm through Hermes’ and strolled out of the throne room.

“That took some real lady balls, Sephy,” Hermes said.

The goddess frowned. It might have taken balls, but it didn’t make her feel any better.

“At this rate, we’ll never reconcile,” she said, frowning.

“Oh, I really doubt that,” Hermes said. “I don’t think Hades is willing to go that long without fucking you.”

Persephone glared at the god. “Not everything is about sex, Hermes.”

“Yes, it is. I’m not saying that to be vulgar,” he paused and chuckled a little. “Well, kinda. What I’m really trying to say is Hades loves you. You didn’t see him last night. I did. He won’t go long without talking to you. He’s too afraid he’ll lose you.”

She hoped Hermes was right. Despite her final words to Hades, she hadn’t wanted to leave his presence, and doing so made her heart hurt.

Hermes stayed for most of the afternoon and joined her and Hecate for a picnic in Asphodel. The gods played with Cerberus, Typhon, and Orthrus and chatted with the souls. When they were finished, Persephone found solace alone in the grove Hades had gifted her.

She marveled at his work.

Here in her forest, the ground was covered in a sea of purple and white flowers. The canopy overhead, a harbor of silver leaves so thick, none of Hades’ strange daylight filtered inside.

It was beautiful and ethereal.

And it was all an illusion.

She had witnessed Hades lift his magic from the Underworld, revealing desolate and deserted land. The sight had shocked her but left her in awe of his skills. How was he able to wield magic like thread, weaving ash and smoke and fire into sweet scents, vibrant colors, and gorgeous landscape?

She found a spot in her grove with periwinkle and white phlox and sat near a withered patch of ground. She took a breath, closed her eyes and meditated. She focused on her breath like Hecate had directed, and then the flow of her blood in her body, and then the flow of power in her veins and the press of life against her skin. She tried to imagine the bald patch in front of her teeming with life, but when she opened her eyes, there was nothing. Her shoulders fell, and she felt the weight of her failure heavy on her back.

Hades scent stirred the air and suddenly, he was around her—his chest to her back, his arms against hers, his legs cradling her body. His warmth was like the darkness, dense and lulling. She wanted it to consume her.

“You are practicing your magic?” he asked.

“More like failing,” she answered.

He laughed as he exhaled. “You aren’t failing. You have so much power.” His voice made her shiver, and she wanted to believe him. She wanted to believe anything he said in that sensuous voice.

“Then why can’t I use it?”

“You are using it,” he answered.

“Not…correctly.”

“Is there a correct way to use your magic?”

Persephone didn’t answer, not because she didn’t have one, but because she was frustrated with Hades’ question. Of course, there was a correct way to use magic.

The god chuckled and his fingers clasped her wrists lightly. “You use your magic all the time—when you are angry, when you are aroused…” Hades’ lips were a breath away from her skin. She wanted desperately to turn and kiss him, but she resisted.

“That’s not magic,” she answered quietly.

“Then what is magic?” he asked.

“Magic is…” she searched for words on a shuddering breath. “Control.”

Hades chuckled. “Magic is not controlled. It is passionate, expressive. It reacts to emotions, no matter your level of expertise.”

His hands shifted, cupping her own. Persephone swallowed.

“Close your eyes,” he whispered.

She did.

“Tell me what you feel.”

Aroused, she thought.

“I feel…warm,” she said instead.

She knew Hades was amused by the tone of his voice.

“Focus on it.” he said. “Where does it start?”

“Low,” she answered and shivered despite the heat. “In my stomach.”

“Feed it,” he breathed.

She did—with thoughts of pushing him into the flowers and pleasuring him. He would be surprised at first, but his eyes would take on that dark smolder and he would attempt to take control.

Except that she wouldn’t let him. She would take him into her mouth until he bucked against her and then lick the come from his cock. When he kissed her, he would taste himself.

Those thoughts filled her with fire, and Hades demanded, “Now, where are you warm?”

“Everywhere,” she answered.

“Imagine all that warmth in your hands,” he spoke faster. “Imagine it glowing, imagine it so bright you can barely look at it.”

She did as he instructed, focusing intently on the heat rushing to her hands. It was easier because she could feel the weight of Hades’ on hers. They grounded her.

“Now imagine the light has dimmed, and in the shadow, you see the life you have created.” Hades lips touched her ear as he whispered, “Open your eyes, Persephone.”

When she did, a shimmering white image of the periwinkle and phlox she had envisioned manifested between her hands.

It was beautiful.

Hades guided her hands to the barren earth, and as the magic touched the ground, it transformed into flowers.

Persephone touched one of the silky petals, just to be sure it was real.

“Magic is balance—a little control, a little passion. It is the way of the world.”

She tilted her head toward him but could not see him fully. His beard scraped her cheek. The silence stretched between them, and every bit of her skin felt like an exposed nerve. Finally, she twisted, coming to her knees. His eyes were fierce, and his nostrils flared.

“I love you—I should have reminded you when I brought you here and each day since,” Hades said. “Please forgive me.”

Tears burned the back of her eyes. “I forgive you—but only if you’ll forgive me. I was angry about Leuce, but angrier that you left me that evening to go to her,” she said, the words hurt, like she couldn’t take in enough air to speak them. “And I feel so…ridiculous. I know your reasons and I know you didn’t want to leave me that evening, but I can’t help how I feel about it. When I think about it, I feel…hurt.”

Maybe it had something to do with all the emotion she had invested in that moment in the dining room. It was all so…intense, and the aftermath left her feeling unfulfilled, neglected.

“It pains me to know I hurt you. What can I do?”

She was surprised by that question. “I…don’t know. I suppose what I have done must make up for it. I told you I wouldn’t write about Apollo—I promised you—and broke that promise.”

Hades shook his head. “We do not make up for hurt with hurt, Persephone. That is a god’s game—we are lovers.”

“Then how do we make up for hurt?” she asked.

“With time,” he answered. “If we can be comfortable being angry with one another for a little while.”

Persephone frowned, and the tears she thought had all dried up came again as she whispered, “I don’t want to be angry with you.”

“Neither do I,” he said, reaching to brush the tears away. “But it doesn’t change feelings and it doesn’t mean we can’t care for each other while we heal.”

Persephone stared at Hades and started to shake her head. “How is it that I was meant for you?”

Hades brows drew together. “We’ve discussed this.”

He didn’t sound angry, but she also knew this discussion had come up before and it hadn’t gone all that well, so she explained.

“I just feel so…inexperienced. I am young and rash and how could you want me?”

She choked on the words and covered her mouth to smother the emotion.

“Persephone,” Hades said gently, he covered her hand with his. “First, I will always want you. Always. I failed you here, too. I was angry, I didn’t take care of you, I didn’t include you. Don’t put me on a pedestal because you feel guilty for your decisions. Just…forgive yourself so you can forgive me. Please.”

She took a breath and bit her lip. Hades’ eyes fell to her mouth. Everything inside her was suddenly fire.

He was right. He hadn’t taken care of her and that’s what she’d craved. Despite their shared anger, she’d wanted him—his heat, his violence, his love.

She closed the distance between them, straddling him as they sat on the ground beneath the silver trees. Hades’ hands settled on her hips.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. Her gaze was level with his, and his dark eyes reached deep. She knew he could see clear to her soul. “I love you. You can trust me, my word. I—”

“Shh, my darling,” he said, his mouth was inches from hers, his hands trailed up her thighs, and beneath her dress. Her stomach tightening with anticipation.

“I will forever regret my anger. How could I ever question your love? Your trust? Your word? When you have my heart.”

She kissed him, her tongue demanded entrance, and Hades gave it. Persephone’s hands tangled into his hair, pulling hard, she climbing up his body, kissing harder and deeper, bruising him as she bit his lips and sucked his tongue.

She was ruthless, but so was Hades.

“Where are you burning?” he asked.

“Everywhere,” she answered.

She pushed his jacket off his shoulders and Hades took over, shoving it aside as she unbuttoned his shirt, exposing his chest. She pulled away to admire him. He tried to reach for her, but she stopped him.

“Let me pleasure you.”

He didn’t speak, but his eyes burned, and that was enough of an answer. She guided him to his back and kissed his lips before working her way down the planes of his muscled chest, following the line of hair from his stomach until it disappeared beneath his slacks where his cock strained against the fabric. She unbuttoned them and wrapped her fingers around his warm, velvet flesh, and as she stroked him, she bit down on her lip, ready to taste him.

Hades growled.

“Keep looking at me that way, darling. I won’t let you have control for long.”

She raised a challenging brow and then took him into her mouth. Hades hissed as she circled the head of his cock with her tongue and took him deeper into her mouth. He groaned when he hit the back of her throat, his fingers twisting tightly into her hair. He seemed to grow larger, filling her mouth tighter as she moved him in and out.

“Fuck,” Hades’ curse encouraged her, and she moved faster, using her hands and her tongue. He came with a roar, and his come filled her mouth—salty and sweet. His smell filled her nose, a mixture of spice and chlorine. She took her time savoring him, licking every part of him clean until he dragged her up his body and brought her lips to his, rolling so that she was beneath him.

“Such a gift,” he said, inches from her mouth. “How shall I repay you?”

“Gifts don’t require payment, Hades.”

“Another gift, then,” he offered, and took her mouth in a searing kiss. He laid her bare beneath the trees and worshipped her body until the sky was full of stars, glowing full and bright with Hades’ magic.