Her Forever

Hades POV

I rolled my eyes in frustration. What the hell does this woman want. The first time she visits me of her entire existence only to tell me that Persephone was not to be mine. Now, she comes to the underworld for a second time, 1000 years later to brag about it more. The nerve of the damn woman.

For years I have heard of the ‘wonders,’ that this woman has done to the supernatural world as well as the Olympian gods. She was granted the gift of finding the missing piece of every supernatural and it was working so well, she decided to expand her prospects into her own world, with the gods. In my opinion, everyone was damn well happy before her. Zeus had his whores; Poseidon had his conquests and I had Persephone. The one thing I ever fought over in this dull, rancid life that I had for my own.

Even though I was the oldest of the three major gods, I chose to be down here. To live in my own world away from Earth, the humans and away from the celestial glory of all the other gods. It was quiet down here when I wanted it to be, now mostly you can hear screams in the night of those left in Tartarus.

“What do you want, Selene,” I spat out her name with venom. The woman better hurry up, I had better things to do than listen to the s**t she has to say. She doesn’t even have her own mate.

“Like I said, I’ve come to bring you good news,” she took a few steps forward and a poof of a cloud popped up behind her has she sat down. She laid on it and plucked a grape from a small bowl that had appeared.

My jaw ticked, “what of it? Speak up so you can show yourself out.” Selene g*****d in frustration as she sat back up and dusted of the invisible dirt from her hand. “Fine, you are no fun.” Selene stood up again and started walking up the steps to my throne. The demons beside me started to cower and back away, knowing I wasn’t in the mood to tolerate such insolence.

Once she stood beside me, she leaned over to whisper in my ear. “Your mate has been born!” Selene stood up happily and clapped her hands in excitement. The giddy cheerleader gig was not something I was a fan over. Gripping my glass tightly, I drank the whisky in one shot and put it down lightly on the throne. Servants continued to back away, knowing this was the calm before the storm.

“What. Of. It.” I growled each word individually.

“I just thought you should know! We got on such a bad foot, and I wanted to make sure you knew so you could search for her. I can even show you who she is now,” she lifted her hand to make a magical portal appear, but I slammed my glass to the floor as I stood up.

“I’ll have NOTHING to do with you and your mate s**t,” the castle grounds began to shake, and the servant demons ran in fear. Selene frowned and waved her hand, making sure I couldn’t see the child that was destined to be his soul mate.

Selene showed no fear, because she was protected, protected by most of the gods on Olympus due to most of them having found their mates. I knew my outburst wouldn’t do anything to her, but my temper had grown throughout they years and even the concubines had grown fearful of me. No one had the aura of my Persephone.

Selene walked back down the throne stairs and tutted when I sat back down. “Do what you will Hades, you only get one soul mate.” I gripped my fist in anger feeling my claws scraping against the palm of my hand. I could love no one more than I could have loved Persephone, that, I was sure.

As Selene neared the exit of the throne room, she grabbed the door and looked back at me. There was sympathy in her eyes, but I dared not look into her eyes any longer as she spoke. “The longer you take to accept that you have a mate to claim, the harder it will be for her to accept you.” With that, Selene walked out the door like she was never there.

20 years later…

Gwen’s POV

“Dammit girls, hurry up!” The pungently large man spoke as he continued to prod us like cattle. His name was John Oliver, or ‘master’ as he liked us to call him. “This is getting ridiculous; how long does it take for you filthy whores to shower?!” Another smack was heard with his wooden police stick on the wall of our communal showers.

There were some new girls that had come in last week, they were scared, beaten and broken, much like how I was when I arrived here at just nine years old, at least I think I was nine. Before that, I don’t remember much. When I woke up, I had lost all memories of who I was, no clothing or possessions to remind me of who I was or where I came from. Just me, sitting in an empty cell with a large t-shirt that said, “Olive and Twist and Strips.”

I was the youngest one of the entire group of women and did a lot of physical labor. Cleaning the cells, making food that I couldn’t eat, making beds that had been used in ways a nine-year-old should know nothing about.

From that age on, I was just a slave to Master. The large man with a gut the overflows the buckle of his pants. He is overweight, smells and has a ridiculous bow tie he likes to wear on work nights and has a ridiculous fascination with me and hasn’t sold me to the highest bidder just yet. I keep wondering when he is going to finally get rid of me because I am not the most obedient slave he would want.

There were a few times he put me up on the auction stand in the back of his strip club. The area was for strict VIP members that wanted a taste of the merchandise on the poles. The people that lived outside the club didn’t know the difference, they thought it was a regular strip club with regular people. Even the town cops would come in when they were off duty to gawk at the girls.

Little did they know they were all stolen from their homes, their families, and their lives.

When I was up on the stand to be sold, I always threw a fit. I acted rabid, biting while he tried to touch me, slapping his hand away. He loved to slap, hit and punch my body when the buyers weren’t around. He often says that my skin was my best feature, with his bloody red handprints on it. My skin was alabaster white, mainly because I hadn’t seen the sun in God knows how long. My hair was long, blonde with a hit of red. The perfect strawberry blonde highlighted girl. Yes, girl. I looked no older than 15.

Since I was so young arriving at club, I never got a proper meal. I was lucky to get the pizza crusts off the patrons’ plates as they left at 5am every morning. If I was lucky, someone left a fry our two along with half of a hamburger. Dancers always got a bit more food than me, because Master said he had to keep their t**s ‘perky.’

I’m not sure what my true height would have been if got the proper nutrition, but I’m close to 5’2,” far too skinny with breasts that finally came in the past year. Now, he has really been pushing me to be sold. Saying I’m the oldest virgin he has ever kept at 20. “You’ll fetch a pretty penny,” he would say.

“Times up! Get out!” The water turned cold and all of us girls huddled together as we went back into the large common cell that held us. There were cots on the floor everything was completely minimal, no personal affects, a small blanket and barely there stripper attire or waitressing uniforms.

Since I was considered the senior, I helped the new girls get ready. Some were crying, some praying. I didn’t’ dare tell them I stopped praying five years ago because no help was going to come. Now, I was just in survival mode and helping those cope with what cards that we have been delt with.

Some nights I would sit with the new girls, petting their hair, singing some sort of lullaby. If I didn’t, their cries would call for unwanted attention which could lead to beatings, rape and other sadistic things.

Once the girls were dressed, Master’s men led them out one by one as they went for training. I was the last in the cell, getting ready to walk out. I had on my waitressing uniform, which was extremely reveling, just not as much as the poor dancers. My breasts were exposed and pushed up high, my tiny skirt barely covered my rear end. “Hold on, there Gwen.” Master spoke quietly as he rolled his cigar in his mouth. He let out a puff of smoke in my face and I turned my head in disgust.

“You listen here, and you listen good. Be a good girl tonight, show some smiles or that gorgeous alabaster skin will be slapped by yours truly,” he chuckled as another puff of smoke left his mouth. It wasn’t a threat; it was a promise. “One more thing, you act up, I’ll break you in your first time if you get my drift.” Master gave an evil smirk and walked away.

There were some nights he tried to sell me and utterly failed, he would paddle my butt, thighs, stomach all of which could he hidden under my uniform. He didn’t beat the other girls like me because they had to perform. The cops would question why some little girl was up on stage, so thankfully I never had to grace the stage. Now he was threatening something completely new. Have him take the one thing left of me, or someone else.

“Yes, Master.” I kept my head low, not daring to look him in the eye. I know his limit, and tonight was it.

By the time I got to the floor, the male patrons were already seated at tables. Girls that I helped dress were dancing, sitting, and talking with some rich male businessmen. They all acted so pleasant when they sat in some of their laps. Even though they sit there with a smile on their faces, their insides had already died knowing that their lives were ruined.

Gracefully walking to the kitchen, I picked up my small apron and the notepad and head to a few tables. Many were regulars and knew my name which they call for me constantly. “Gwen!” Niko called me over. Him and his crew came in every Friday night like clockwork, however this night he had different friends with him. “How is my favorite waitress?” Niko held out his arm for a side hug. “I’m well, thank you,” I gave a genuine smile. Niko could always make me laugh and his commentary on the new girls dancing was unexpectedly hilarious.

Niko was Greek and had the beautiful, tanned skin that every man should be jealous for. His dark stubble on his strong jawline lined up well with his strong cheek bones. I’m sure he was lucky catch for some lady if he would get out of a strip club.

“Guys, I want you to meet Gwen! She started working here a year ago and we’ve become best mates!” All the men looked over at me and gave me a friendly smile. Some looked like they were out of place, unsure how they should be acting but Niko quickly gave me their names. “Hermes, Ares and Vulcan,” Niko said with pride as he sat. “We have one more coming, he’ll be here in a few.”

The men were similar to Niko, tall, strong looking and handsome. Vulcan had a bit of twitch in his left eye but he could easily get anyone he wanted.

“Pleasure to meet you,” I nodded at them. The three stared at me until Vulcan spoke up. “Aren’t you a little young to be working here?” I blushed scarlet, knowing I look extremely young.

“I’m actually 20,”I said meekly. “Good genes I guess,” I shrugged my shoulders. Niko’s lips were pressed in a thin line and looked at his friends. After a few moments they gave me their drink orders and I went to the bar to have them prepared. Looking back, I saw the small group talking in hushed tones, arguing, and throwing napkins in each other’s faces.

My hope was they never get on the VIP list, they all seemed good natured and it would be a shame to see the reputation I have of them tarnished. Especially, if I am to be auctioned off tonight. Letting a large sigh escape my lips, I grabbed the tray to head back to their table.

A cold chill surrounded me as started handing their drinks, the music was blaring, and the lights were flashing but as I stood up after handing Vulcan his drink I felt a large shadow engulf over my body.