A Touch of Chaos (Hades x Persephone Saga, #4)

by Scarlett St. Clair

Hades looked at her, and there was a gleam of pride in his eyes that she loved. “Nice save, Sephy,” Hermes said as he approached, pulling out another bar from his pack. He started to open it when she snatched it away. “Hey! It’s my last one.” “I think,” Hades said, “what you meant to say was ‘Thank you for saving my life, Persephone. If it wasn’t for my idiocy, we wouldn’t even have been in that situation to begin with. As a token of my appreciation, here is a snack.’” Hermes slammed his lips together and crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re never on my side,” he said. Persephone tried not to laugh, but Hades sighed and started across the field, arming himself with a spear as he went. Persephone followed. The ground was now springy under her feet, making it a little harder to walk on. When her stomach growled again, she broke the bar and offered Hermes half. “Thanks, Sephy,” he said, and then he hesitated. “I am thankful you saved us from my idiocy.” “I know, Hermes,” she said and smiled at the god. “You’re a really great friend, Sephy,” he said. “Sometimes I don’t think I deserve—” His words faltered, and so did Persephone’s steps as the ground began to shift beneath them. There were several crisp snaps as warrior after warrior broke free from her bindings, and before they could flee, they were surrounded. “Maybe stronger vines next time, Sephy,” said Hermes. She was already trying to plan her next move when Hades materialized beside them and flung out his hand. Benea...

“You killed my warriors,” said Ares. “They will be reborn,” said Hades. Ares’s mouth hardened. “You come to my island uninvited to steal from me,” said the God of War. “And you insult me by harming what is mine.” “We have not come to steal,” Persephone said, angered by his accusation, though she regretted drawing his furious attention. “So you have come to ask for a favor? Even worse, traitor goddess.” “We are not here for ourselves,” Persephone said. “We are here for Harmonia. Aphrodite’s sister is dying.” At her words, a little bit of Ares’s composure slipped, his angry eyes flashing with concern before he recovered and seemed to dig further into his aggression. “You lie,” he said, looking at Hades. “I can smell the blood.” “I did not lie,” Persephone said between her teeth. “Harmonia is dying. The Golden Fleece is the only thing that will save her!” “And your lover, it seems,” said Ares. “Tell me, why should I help you?” “Because you have no choice, Ares,” said Hermes. “I have come to collect my favor, one of many, might I add, that you owe me from all the times I saved your ass.” “As helpful as that would be, I am not inclined to grant it.” “You would risk divine retribution?” Persephone asked. “Currently, Hermes is mortal, and by divine law, I am not obligated to uphold a promise made to a traitor.” Persephone looked at Hades for confirmation of his words, but he wasn’t looking at her. He was staring darkly at Ares. “Now you are just being an ass,” said Hermes. “I hav...

“Hades!” She hurried to his side, dropping the bident and pulling Ares’s spear free before falling to her knees beside him. Tears welled in her eyes and her throat went dry when he didn’t respond. “Hades,” she said again, taking his face between her hands. His lashes fluttered, and then he opened his eyes. When he saw her, he smiled and she wept, suddenly overwhelmed. She bent and pressed her forehead to his and then her lips, pulling back to meet his gaze, but his eyes were closed again. “Hades,” Persephone said. “Hades!” She yanked up his shirt. The wound to his chest had not healed, and the one on his side was far worse, oozing blood and pus. “No.” She placed her hands over each, trying to mend them with her own magic, but nothing happened. Something was wrong. Was the infection preventing him from healing? “Fuck!” she screamed. She had to find Hermes, but just as she got to her feet, she caught sight of him in the distance. He was running as fast as he could, arms and legs pumping, his cheeks puffing as he breathed, the Golden Fleece gleaming in his hands. “I got it, Sephy! I’m coming—ah!” She watched as the god lost his footing and tripped, falling face-first on the ground. She teleported to him. “Come on, Hermes,” she said, and when he took her offered hand, she returned to Hades’s side. “Oh fuck,” said Hermes. “What happened?” “He isn’t healing at all now,” she said, spreading the fleece over Hades. “Is this how it works?” “I think so,” Hermes said. “That is how I w...

“I have no intention to rest, no desire to sleep,” he said. “I want to spend every second making up for each day I was absent from you.” His words were met with a pleasing shiver. It made her nipples hard beneath her shirt. “Then why are you wasting precious time talking?” His lips twitched. Spoken like a true queen.

“I want you to feel me inside you for weeks after this night,” he said. “When you are on the battlefield, this is what you will fight for, the pleasure of being beneath me again.” Her eyes narrowed. He could not tell if she liked his words, but then she sat up and her mouth was level with his cock, which pressed, thick and heavy, against the rough material of his pants. “And what will you fight for, King of the Underworld?” she asked.

“I am waiting for your answer, my king,” she said. What will you fight for on the battlefield? He studied her, very much aware that his heavy cock remained between them, wet from her mouth and aching. “Do you ask because you do not know or because you wish to hear me say it?” “It does not matter,” she said. “I gave you a command.” “Oh, it matters, my love,” he said. His hand slipped to her neck, and she tilted her head back farther. “If the first, I shall have to remind you of my devotion, but I warn you, it will not be kind.” He did not have that sort of control within him tonight, but she knew that. She could feel it just as much as he could feel the violent storm of her emotions. “I did not ask for kindness, my king,” she said. “You promised to fuck me.”

“I did not promise kindness,” he reminded. He noticed how her skin pebbled at the feel of his breath. “No,” she said. “But I will hardly remember the feel of your teasing on the battlefield.” He didn’t recognize the laugh that came out of his mouth. “Oh, darling, I will never let you forget it.”

“You asked me what I would fight for on the battlefield,” he said. “It is this. It is to have you look at me with these eyes. You worship me with these eyes.” A smile curved Persephone’s lips. “You are a romantic, my king,” she said. “I am in love,” he said. “There is a difference.”

“Are you well?” he asked. He loved staring at her, but especially after sex. He liked knowing that he was the reason for the flush on her cheeks and the swell of her lips. She smiled, her gaze heavy-lidded. “Yes,” she whispered. “And you?” “I am more than well,” he said. Neither of them moved, content to lie in the aftermath of their lovemaking. “I missed this,” Persephone said, and Hades noticed that her eyes were welling with tears as she brought her hands up to cover her face. Hades frowned and bent to kiss her fingers. “You do not have to hide from me,” he said. “I want all of you, even your pain.” He waited for her, and after a few deep breaths, she dropped her hands. Her eyes were still watering, and tears spilled down the side of her face. “I do not know why I am crying,” she said, taking a trembling breath. “You do not need a reason,” he said, though he would argue that everything she had been through in the last month was reason enough. This was likely the first time she’d had the space to let her body stop fighting, and the reality of the world was crashing down on her all at once. Hades shifted onto his back, bringing Persephone with him, and he held her as she cried until she was silent and sleeping in his arms.

“How do I know if my mother was fated to die?” That is what you’re thinking about right now? It was what he wanted to ask because he’d much rather know that she was thinking about him and how he’d just fucked her utterly and completely mindless. Except that, apparently, he hadn’t. He’d have to try again. Except he knew why she was asking this question. She was trying to find a way through the guilt, to lessen the blame. He lifted his head and met her gaze. “Do you think knowing will make accepting your role in her death easier?” Her breaths grew heavier, and he knew she was about to cry. He shifted higher up her body so their faces were aligned. “I don’t know how to live with this,” she said, her body quaking beneath him. He shifted to his side, pulling her back to his chest, curling himself around her as she sobbed. It was all he could offer. He had nothing else.

“He will hang in the sky as he hung me,” said Hera. “Let the Olympians bear witness to his shame.” For a brief moment, Theseus wondered why he hadn’t considered trapping her and Zeus. He was under no grand illusion. He knew the goddess had only allied with him in the hope of overthrowing Zeus and taking the throne for herself. What she failed to understand was that the future of the world did not include Olympians. “Only Olympians?” Theseus questioned. Hera stiffened. “The mortal public cannot know. They will question our power.” “They already question your power,” said Theseus. “And now they will know you can be defeated.”

“Why did you sleep with me?” If she was going to insist, he might as well ask. She blinked, surprised, and closed her mouth before answering, “Because I wanted to. Why do you think I slept with you?” He didn’t answer. “Dionysus.” She spoke his name like a command. “You said you wanted to thank me.” “Because I am grateful for what you did,” she said. “I’m not sure I like when you say that,” he said. Her brows lowered. “What?” He averted his eyes. “I’m not sure I like when you kiss me or fuck me and tell me you’re grateful.” “You don’t like it…but you fucked me anyway?” Her tone set him on edge. It was full of rage, but that was okay, because he could match it. “I fucked you because I wanted you,” he said. “I fucked you because I like you. Because I’d like to fall in love with you, but I don’t fucking trust you, and it has nothing to do with Theseus and everything to do with the fact that you regret me every time you have me.” A strained silence followed his words. Now that they were out, he wasn’t sure why he had said them at all. Beside him, Ariadne was still. She wasn’t looking at him either. She’d turned her face away and was staring straight ahead. After a few seconds, she threw off the blankets and scrambled out of bed. “Ari—” Dionysus said, doing the same. She was at the door when she whirled to face him. “You think I regret you?” she asked. “You said so!” He inched toward her. “And even if you hadn’t, I would know.” “You would know? Can you read minds? Is that anothe...

“Do you pay my sister for sex?” she asked. Dionysus’s mouth fell open, shocked by her question. “What?” “Do you pay my sister for sex?” she asked again, her gaze unwavering. He wanted to ask if everyone in her family had that same piercing stare. Gods, it was unnerving. “No,” he said, and when she continued to stare, he added, “Is it that hard to believe she chose me?” Finally, Phaedra dropped her gaze and approached slowly. “It’s what Theseus told me,” she said. “That Ariadne had turned to prostitution. She showed me pictures of you with her in the pleasure district.” “That is not what we were doing in the pleasure district.” Mostly. Phaedra was quiet, her gaze focused on her son. “I’m not sure what makes me feel worse,” she said. “That my husband lied to me…or that I believed him.” “Do not feel guilty for what he made you believe,” said Dionysus.

Then he caught something from the corner of his eye, and his gaze shifted to Theseus on television. “What the fuck?” Dionysus snatched the remote from the coffee table and turned up the volume. Phaedra turned, and her hand clamped down over her mouth at the sight of her husband on the screen. A red banner at the bottom announced the reason for his emergency press conference: WIFE AND SON ABDUCTED FROM HOSPITAL. “Today I had hoped to stand here beside my beautiful and loving wife, Phaedra, and announce the birth of my son, but instead of celebrating our happy news, I am here to plead with you. My wife and our son were taken from Asclepius Community Hospital by a god.” He paused, and Dionysus clenched his teeth. He had to admit, the demigod had mastered the role of tortured husband and father. He looked absolutely devastated. “Many of you know the battle I have led in opposition to the Olympians. I believe this is a cruel attempt at revenge and likely the most extreme example of why we can no longer kneel to the archaic rule of the gods. Today I am here to plead for the return of my wife and child but also for the lives of every mortal on this earth. We do not deserve this treatment. Let us remind the gods of our power and cease our worship…today.” He paused and took a shuddering breath, looking directly into the camera. “And to the god who stole my family, I am coming for you.”

“Oh great,” said Hypnos as they arrived. “Now we have an audience. Don’t you have any respect for the dead and those who mourn them?” The dead? “This cannot be,” said Thanatos. “Do not mourn for me, Brother,” Hypnos said. “This changes very little for me. I was already a prisoner of this hellhole. Now I am just a dead one.” Hypnos helped Thanatos to his feet. It was almost disconcerting to see Thanatos so aggrieved, but she could not blame him. The last thing the God of Death had ever expected was that he would one day welcome his own immortal brother to his realm as a soul in the afterlife. “I could scarce believe it myself when he arrived at my dock,” said Charon. “What happened?” asked Persephone. “I died,” Hypnos responded. His voice dripped with sarcasm. Clearly he hadn’t lost his sense of humor—or lack thereof. “Why don’t you try answering that question again?” Hades suggested, his tone dark. She could feel his frustration—he was not in the mood for games. Hypnos might be able to make light of his death, but the rest of them couldn’t, not when so many had come before him and had the potential to follow. Hypnos’s mouth tightened. “You want to know what happened? Theseus happened,” he said. “He brought me before Hera, who threatened to kill my wife if I did not provide her with a sleeping potion for Zeus. So I did.”

“I…did not mean to suggest you haven’t tried to stop Theseus,” she said. “And I know there are still things you are working on telling me. I think I am just afraid of what I don’t know.” Hades moved closer and took her face between his hands. “I am no less afraid even with all I know,” he said. “But I can promise you that I will never leave you in the dark again.” She tipped her head back farther, holding his burning gaze. The corners of her lips lifted just a little as she brushed a strand of his hair away from his face. “I want your darkness,” she said. “But I want your secrets too.” “Darling,” he said. “Give me time, and I will give you everything.” “I just want to know that we have time.” She spoke quietly, unable to keep the fear from entering her voice. “I want to know that we have forever.” Hades studied her, slipping one hand around her waist. He kept the other on her face, his thumb caressing her cheek. “Then perhaps we should dream about it,” he said. “So that we can think about it when we are on the battlefield.” She raised a brow. “Did you not say that I am to think about the pleasure of being beneath you?” “Well,” he said with a small smile. “That is one part of our forever I look forward to.”

“I thought you might rejoice, Hades. You were right. Theseus did come.” “I take no pleasure in your pain, Dionysus,” Hades said. “And if that is what you think, then you misunderstood my words.”

“We were just about to summon our allies to hear council on how we should proceed with Theseus,” he said. “At least now I do not have to go looking for you. Go. Bathe and be ready in an hour.” Hades looked down at Persephone. “Brief Aphrodite, Harmonia, and Sybil. I will return with Ilias, Hephaestus, and Apollo.” “What about Her—” Hades pressed a finger to her lips. “Do not speak his name,” said Hades, dropping his hand. Persephone drew her brows together. “Is…there something else I should know about?” “Unless you want to hear another monologue about the faults of our hospitality and how loud you moan when I fuck you, then I suggest waiting until the last possible second to summon the God of Glitter.” Persephone arched her brow. “As I recall, his monologue included an impression of you, not me.” “That was before our most recent interlude,” he said. She narrowed her eyes. “You know he doesn’t have any magic, right?” “He doesn’t need magic to be summoned. At this point, it is a sixth sense. He’s just selective when he decides to use it.” Hades tilted her head back a little farther. “I will see you in an hour.” She smiled as he kissed her, ignoring the dread that seeped into her stomach when he vanished, unable to keep from worrying that he might not return. The thought frustrated her, but she knew it would be a long time before that fear ever went away, given the horror of the labyrinth.

“As much as I wish to give you more time for peace, I’m afraid I have come with bad news,” she said. “Hypnos arrived at the gates of the Underworld, slain by Theseus’s hand.” Aphrodite looked pale, and Harmonia pressed a hand to her mouth. She decided she would wait until the meeting to tell them about Zeus and the lightning bolt. “We are summoning our allies to discuss how we will move forward in our war against Theseus. I would like for the three of you to be present. Hades has already left to call on Hephaestus and Apollo. We will meet in Hades’s office within the hour,” Persephone said. There was silence for a moment. Persephone’s attention was drawn to Aphrodite as the goddess shook her head. “We act as if we are not gods,” she said. “We should have killed this man years ago.” “We may be gods,” Persephone said. “But we are ruled by a power greater than us.” “You mean the Fates?” Aphrodite sneered. “There is no greater betrayal than their golden threads, weaving pain and suffering while they sit idly in their mirrored halls. Perhaps it is they who should—” “Aphrodite!” Harmonia snapped, her tone full of warning. “You sound like them.” Like the Impious. Like Triad. Except in some ways, Persephone agreed. The Fates were not directed by a sense of justice. They measured, wove, and cut to control under the guise of maintaining balance.

Hades manifested in a dark room within his palace where Hermes had taken up residence. He was immediately hit with the sound of the god’s guttural snoring. It was so loud, it vibrated the air around him, and he wondered if Hermes was actually breathing. Hades summoned light in the fireplace and the sconces on the walls, but Hermes didn’t even flinch. “Hermes!” Hades’s voice thundered in the small room, but the god did not startle. He probably cannot hear me over the sound of his own snoring, Hades thought. He approached the bed on which Hermes lay starfished on his stomach. “Hermes!” he said again. Then he grasped the coverlet and pulled it off. “Fucking Fates,” he muttered. Hermes was naked. Of course he was naked. Hades summoned a splash of ice-cold water. As it hit his bare back, Hermes screamed. It was the same high-pitched tone he’d managed while on Ares’s island. He rolled onto his back and somehow managed to jump to his feet. He looked as if he were ready for a fight. Hades tossed him the blanket, and Hermes grabbed it, hugging it to his front. “What the fuck, Hades,” he snapped. “A gentle shake would have sufficed.” “I am not interested in being gentle with you.” “Oh, come on,” he groaned. “Now you’re just fucking with me.” “I am not fucking with you.” “Yes, you are,” he hissed. “Don’t you know how sexual that sounds?” “No,” Hades said. “Liar,” Hermes said and then collapsed to the bed. “I am assuming you are not here to ravish me, so what do you want? I was sleepi...

“I need you to summon Ilias and Apollo within the hour.” “No,” Hermes said. Hades lifted a brow. “No?” “What about I have no powers don’t you understand?” “You have no power, but you are a divine messenger and part of this war.” “Why can’t you summon them?” “I have other matters to attend to,” he said. “I hope it’s trimming that gods-awful beard.” That was exactly the matter at hand. He also wanted to bathe. There were just some things glamour couldn’t replace. “Even if that is the case—and it should be the case—you can summon Ilias and Apollo and shave faster than I can leave the Underworld.” There was a brief moment of silence, and then Hades spoke. “Fine. I suppose I can just…send an email.” Hermes gasped. “You wouldn’t.” Hades shrugged. “You have given me no choice.” “After all I’ve done,” Hermes said, throwing off his blanket. He jumped from the bed and started searching the floor for something. Hades hoped it was clothes. “If you are still referring to Ares’s island—” “I’m talking about being your best friend!” Hermes said. “But best friends don’t use their archenemy, do they? No. You know what’s so fucking stupid about email? There are faster ways to communicate! Phones! You could just text! But you are so old, you don’t even know that!” Hades blinked slowly. “Are you finished?” Hermes was still red in the face and breathing hard. “No,” he snapped, crossing his arms over his chest, but he said nothing. “I am well aware that cell phones exist. I have one, yet who hav...

As he worried over what he had done, the mistakes he had made, he looked down at the glass on his desk, noticing a ripple in the amber liquid. He frowned and then looked up just as the door burst open. Ilias stood there, wide-eyed and wheezing. He had been running. When he saw Hades, he froze for a moment and then let out an odd, breathy laugh. “You’re back.” Hades hesitated. He did not know how to respond. He had not expected Ilias to seem so…relieved by his return. It made his chest feel tight. Hades’s smile was brief and sincere. “I am,” he said with a small nod. “What news?” “Nothing good,” said Ilias. “Theseus made a public appeal for mortals to withdraw worship. He claims a god is responsible for the abduction of his wife and child.” Ilias spoke as if he did not believe the demigod. “Did he release the name?” Hades asked. “What?” Ilias asked, surprised by his question. “You don’t really think…” Hades just stared, and Ilias’s eyes widened as reality set in. “He did not,” the satyr confirmed. “Hades, you didn’t—” “No,” he said. “Dionysus.” Ilias curled his fingers into fists. Hades understood the frustration. Dionysus’s actions did not just affect him and his territory. They affected all gods. “Still, he must have a death wish to invoke the wrath of the gods.” “On the contrary,” Hades said, looking out the windows. From where he stood, all that was visible was a swath of green trees shrouded in mist. “Theseus is feeling pretty invincible at the moment. He has managed t...

“If Theseus has the world believing his wife and child were abducted by a god, then can’t his wife simply tell the world otherwise?” asked Ilias. “No,” Ariadne said sharply. “Unless Theseus is subdued or dead, you cannot ask that of her. It is too dangerous.” “Do you not trust us to protect her?” Aphrodite asked. “Forgive me, but you all pointed out how Theseus is just as much of a threat to you as he is to everyone,” Ariadne said. “So no.” “Yet you have no trouble leeching off our kindness and accepting our protection.” “Aphrodite,” Dionysus warned as Hephaestus loomed behind the Goddess of Love. “I don’t recall you having anything to do with this,” Ariadne returned. “Stop,” Persephone commanded. Her voice was like a whip and struck them all silent. “If Theseus does not kill us first, then infighting will. Kindness and protection should not have to be repaid. If Phaedra wishes to make a statement, she can, but it should be her decision and no one else’s.” Persephone’s eyes grew brighter as she spoke, and she glared at Aphrodite and then Ariadne. Hades straightened, his slacks suddenly too tight. Fuck, his wife was hot.

“I could hold funeral games,” said Aphrodite. “For Adonis, Tyche, Hypnos, and those who died during the attack at Talaria Stadium. It would force the world to see and acknowledge what the Impious and Triad have done and take a side.” Funeral games were almost always held in the aftermath of great loss and were a series of athletic competitions. While they were meant to distract from grief, these would likely only encourage a deeper divide between the Faithful and the Impious. At the mention of the stadium, Persephone placed a hand over her shoulder. She had been shot during the scuffle, and while she had healed, Hades would never forget the sight of her blood. “No,” Hephaestus said immediately. There was a finality to his tone that told Hades there would likely be consequences to contradicting him. He was about to suggest that he could host when Aphrodite turned to glare at her husband. “You are only saying that because I mentioned Adonis.” Hephaestus did not flinch. His large arms were crossed over his chest. “You have already been targeted by Triad,” said Hephaestus. “If you host the games, you will only draw more attention to yourself, and you are powerless.” “The point is to force them to act publicly,” said Aphrodite. “They wanted my attention, and now they have it.” “You will not,” he said. “I will not let you.” “You will not let me?” Aphrodite repeated. “Since when have I required your permission for anything?” “This isn’t up for discussion,” he said. “What is this?...

“You would have never let your wife risk herself in such a way,” said the god. “Why let mine?” “What I know about our wives is that they will do what they want despite our wishes,” said Hades, though it had taken him too long to realize that. “I’d rather walk in Persephone’s shadow, ready to save her at the first sign of a threat, than have her keep secrets. I know you feel the same.” Hephaestus’s jaw ticked, and he looked away. “If Aphrodite could become the sun, she would, just to be rid of my shadow,” said the god. “That is not true,” Hades said. Hephaestus met Hades’s gaze. “We will agree to disagree,” he said with a small, sad smile. “Come to Lemnos tomorrow. I will arm the gods.” With that, Hephaestus vanished.

“I can end this, Ari,” Phaedra said, and the hard part about her words was that Dionysus knew she was wrong. “You can’t end this,” he said. “Even if you return to Theseus, he will still come for us, and there is no guessing what he might do to punish you.” There was a moment of quiet, and then Naia spoke. “You are not responsible for Theseus’s actions.” “I left. I—” “Fled,” said Ariadne. “You fled an abuser, Phaedra.” “He wasn’t—” She started to protest but glanced at Dionysus, swallowing her words. “How do you know Theseus was responsible for the attack on your house?” “Phaedra!” Ariadne gasped, “Perseus works for Theseus.” “You do not know that Theseus sent him,” Phaedra argued. “Perhaps Perseus acted on his own. It would make sense. Theseus would never threaten the life of his son.” Her words did not even anger Dionysus, because he had expected them. “Theseus would do anything to gain public favor. He wants to be a god!” “He does not want to be a god,” she said. “He wants freedom and fairness—” “If you really believe that, then you are a fool,” Ariadne snapped. Phaedra paled. She looked just as stricken as Ariadne sounded. Then she glanced from side to side, seeming to remember they had an audience, and she fled. For a few moments, Ariadne just stood there, stunned. Dionysus thought about putting his hand on her shoulder, or maybe he should draw her close. He was not sure what would be appropriate, but before he could decide, Ariadne left, calling after her sister.