A Game of Gods (Hades Saga, #3)

by Scarlett St. Clair

People would die. It was a matter of time. And when that happened, would Persephone fight for their love, or would she give in to her mother to save the world? He hated that he believed the latter. He realized it was a horrible position, an impossible one. If Demeter truly loved her daughter, she would never have given her the ultimatum.

Hades’s eyes dropped to the God of Mischief who was reclined in his chair, feet propped on his desk. Their eyes met, and a sheepish smile broke out across his golden face. Hades scowled, showing his teeth, and sent the god scrambling to his feet. “I was just keeping it warm,” Hermes defended. Hades glared and took his seat. It was indeed warm, which only made him stare harder at the god. “Nothing but the best for the King of the Dead,” Hermes added with a cheerful grin as he moved to sit on the edge of Hades’s obsidian desk. “If so much as one of your ass cheeks touches this desk, Hermes, I will turn it to lava.” “It’s not as if they’re bare,” Hermes argued. Hades gave the god a withering look. “You know what? The couch is far more comfortable anyway,” Hermes said, perching on the armrest.

There were times when he appreciated Zofie’s naivete. Tonight, it was frustrating.

“What is the prophecy that makes this creature so dangerous?” He would not know, given he had been born after the Titanomachy. “Whoever burns its entrails will obtain the power to defeat the gods,” said Hermes. “Are you certain that’s the prophecy?” asked Dionysus, raising a dark brow. “Maybe it’s just one god?” Hermes wondered aloud and then shrugged. “I might have gotten a word or two wrong.” “A word or two?” “It isn’t as if it hasn’t been four thousand years,” Hermes said defensively. “You try remembering something after that long.” “You seem to have no issue recalling grudges from that long ago.” “I suddenly regret helping Zeus save your life,” said Hermes. Sometimes Hades forgot the two had a history, though it was minor. Hermes had helped save Dionysus after he was born by taking him to be raised by the Nysiads, ocean nymphs who lived on Mount Nysa. “Perhaps it would have been better for everyone if you had not,” said Dionysus. The God of Mischief blanched at his words, and before a strained silence could descend, Hades spoke. “It’s a prophecy, Hermes. A word or two can change the entire meaning.” Hermes threw his arms in the air. “Well, I never claimed to be an oracle.” “Then we will have to ask one,” Hades said.

“How long have you been in that closet?” he asked. The satyr paused. “I don’t actually know.” Dionysus lifted a brow and glanced at his foster father. “Then how did you know I left at all?” “I always know when you leave,” Silenus said. “Because I feel like I can breathe again.” “Fucking rude,” Dionysus said as Silenus elbowed his way beside him at the bar.

“I want to see you find happiness,” he said and sighed, running a hand through his thin, graying hair. “Even if it is just an ounce.” “Perhaps I am not meant for happiness,” Dionysus said. “It’s a choice, Dionysus,” Silenus said, clearly frustrated. “You have to choose.” “Then I choose vengeance,” Dionysus said. “And I will choose it until I have secured it.”

“What about the girl?” the satyr asked. Dionysus felt his body tense at the mention of Ariadne. “She’s a woman, not a girl. What about her?” “She’s pretty,” Silenus said. His observation already irritated Dionysus. She wasn’t just pretty. She was beautiful, and he was reminded of it every time he looked upon her face, felt it every time he entered the same room as her. “She hates me,” Dionysus said. “Because she doesn’t have anything to like at the moment,” Silenus said. “Perhaps I do not want her to like me at all.” “Your cock tells a different story.” “Don’t look at my cock,” Dionysus said. “It’s weird.” “A cock never lies,” his foster father said. “You like her.” “I want to fuck her. I don’t like her,” Dionysus said. “Sounds like the perfect start to a relationship.” “Yes, an unhealthy one.” “Have you thought about…I don’t know…turning her into more than just another one of your maenads?” “I can’t turn her into anything.” “Of course you can. You have already made her an unwilling prisoner.” “To protect her.” Whether she realized it or not, though that had initially not been the case. Originally, he’d kidnapped her and brought her to Bakkheia because he’d suspected her of posing as a distraction so Hera and Theseus could abduct the Graeae. While she had done exactly that, she’d also told him she’d only made the decision to do it once she’d met him and found him completely unbearable. He clenched his teeth. “So you care about her,” said the satyr. “She is a means to an en...

“Where were you going?” he asked after a moment. When she didn’t respond, he continued, “Were you going to him?” He knew the answer, and yet the thought of her sneaking away to Theseus in any capacity made him burn with jealousy. “No,” she snapped. “I was going to see my sister.” “Going to see your sister is the same as seeing Theseus,” he said. “Do you really believe he will let you have access to her?” “No!” she snapped. “But at least she will know I have tried.” Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, and the sight did something to his chest. He didn’t like it because it made him want to do stupid things for her. “Did I not agree to help you save your sister?” he asked. “Hades agreed, not you,” she said. He ground his teeth together so hard, his jaw hurt. “He might have agreed to the deal, but we both know I am the one who will have to see it through,” he said. “If I am such a burden, then let me go,” she said. “I never said you were a burden.” “You don’t have to,” she replied, casting her gaze to the floor.

“What if she does not wish to help you?” “It’s your job to convince her,” he said. “I thought you said you did not need her power.” “In this game, it is not about needing her power, it’s about who gets to it first,” he said. “And you want me to get to her first, I promise you.” “Why don’t you send your assassins?” “This is not a job for them,” he said. “She must be convinced that it is best to side with us.” “And what if I am not convinced?” “Then let us hope by the time we find her, you are.”

“What do you feel?” he asked, concentrating on her. Everything was about her. He spoke against her skin and felt her take a breath as Pirithous began to beg. “Persephone, please.” His voice shook. The longer the demigod was awake, the more he recalled the torment at Hades’s hands, and it made him desperate. “I–I am sorry.” Sorry. That word burrowed beneath Hades’s skin, calling to the darkness that lived just beneath the surface. It made him feel… “Violent,” Persephone said, and he knew it because there was an edge to her power that he had never felt before. Beneath the warmth and the flora was something sharp and desperate. He wanted to taste it, run his tongue along it. “Focus on it,” Hades commanded, his hand twining with hers. “Feed it.” In the quiet moment that followed, Hades remained still, relishing the feel of her magic as she concentrated on gathering it into her palm. It was a rush, a great wave of power that hit him deep in his stomach. “Where do you wish to cause him pain?” he asked. “This isn’t you.” Pirithous’s voice turned to a keen whine, and Hades wished more than anything that he would shut the fuck up. “I know you. I watched you!” Yes, he had watched her. He had targeted and stalked her. He had taken pictures of her in her home, where she was meant to be safest. He had felt entitled to her body for no other reason than the fact that she existed. And he would be punished eternally. “He wanted to use his cock as a weapon,” she said. “And I want it to burn...

“I am not sure who you think I am, but let me be clear,” Persephone said, her voice clear and resolute. “I am Persephone, future Queen of the Underworld, Lady of Your Fate. May you come to dread my presence.” Her words tangled in Hades’s chest, stealing the air from his lungs. He had never felt so in love and so desperate to protect someone in his life, and while he had desired for so long to hear her embrace this part of herself—the title and power he had to offer—he wished it had come under different circumstances, that it had been born out of a love for the happier parts of the Underworld and not the darkest.

“Why are you naked?” Hades was drawn from his thoughts and looked down into the garden where Hecate lingered, nearly invisible in the darkness. “Would you really like an answer to that question?” he asked. “I can give details.” She scrunched her nose in mock disgust. “I think I can guess. It is not as if you are quiet.” Hades chuckled and Hecate arched a brow, though he could not help being amused at the thought of Persephone’s cries of pleasure echoing throughout the Underworld. “Come off your high horse,” she said. “It is not as if you excel at giving pleasure. Some of us are just sensitive to sound.” He rolled his eyes. “Fearful I will become too arrogant, Hecate?” “I do not have to fear it,” she said. “You are.” “Arrogance does not make something untrue,” he said. “No, but it does make it annoying.” He could not help laughing. “No one said you had to endure it,” he said. “Why are you here anyway? Aren’t there some pathetic souls in the Upperworld deserving of your haunting presence?” “No one is deserving of my presence,” she said. “I am a plague upon men.” “You are definitely a plague,” he muttered. “I heard that,” she snapped. “I’m aware,” Hades said. “And you? Why are you sulking on your balcony instead of lying with your love?” “I am not sulking,” he said. “You always sulk,” she said. Hades glared, unwilling to argue with the goddess. “I cannot sleep, if you must know.” “Worrying too much?” she asked. He did not respond. “Perhaps you should not worry when you are wi...

“Do not pretend Persephone does not know who she has chosen to love,” Hecate said. “She sees all of you. She is the Goddess of Spring after all. She is used to life and death.”

“I am well,” he said. “Why do you lie?” she asked. To protect you, he wanted to say. “What will you do today?” Hades asked instead. She gave him a strange look. “I am assuming you are asking because you do not intend to stay?” “I have business in the Upperworld,” he said. “On a Sunday?” He knew she did not ask because she was suspicious but because it was unusual. He normally spent the weekends sequestered in the Underworld with her. Sometimes they did not leave this room; other times he took her to explore parts of the Underworld she had never seen. Whatever their day, it was time he cherished with her, and while he hated to give it up, he knew this could not wait. He had to know if the ophiotaurus had reincarnated with a prophecy. “I will make it up to you,” he said.

“If a person slays the creature and burns its entrails, then victory is assured against the gods,” she said. Silence followed her answer. It was as Hades had feared—the prophecy remained true. Imari began to swing, and Hades pushed. She giggled as she rose higher and higher, a happy backdrop to their somber conversation. “What will you do?” Katerina asked. “Try to find it before anyone else,” he said. The creak of the swing filled the quiet between them. “What if you don’t?” she asked after a moment. “Then I suppose we will all die,” he replied.

“One of you will tell me what you know of your mistress,” said Hades. They shook. “We know nothing about our mistress, my lord,” said one who had hair like the sun shining on water. It was not a lie. “When was she last here?” he asked. “It has been quite some time,” said another. This one had hair the color of the darkest parts of the river. “Since Lady Persephone left.” “Left for the mortal world?” “No, since the greenhouse was destroyed.” “And you have no idea where your mistress might be?” The five of them shook their heads. Hades studied them. “I need you to find her.” Their eyes widened and they paled. “My lord, she will know!” This one who spoke had red hair like two others. All three were crowned with white lilies. “We will already be punished for this,” said the one with dark hair. “You ask us to die for you!” Hades tilted his head, narrowing his eyes. “You will already die for me, Hercyna,” he said. “The only uncertainty is how.” “Do not scare her!” the blond one snapped, wrapping her arms around Hercyna’s head, crushing her to her breast. “I cannot help it if you fear death,” said Hades. “It is the truth of any existence.” “Lady Demeter was right about you,” she seethed. “You have no care for anyone save yourself!” “If you knew what drove me to this meadow, you would choke on your words,” Hades said. “Imagine if I had brought Persephone here to witness your loyalty wither in the face of her abusive mother.” “You don’t know what it’s like!” one of the three redhea...

“Let me give you an idea of what you are about to face if you do not help me,” said Hades. “Your fountains and wells, lakes and springs, rivers and wetlands will all freeze. You will be driven from your homes—you and all your sisters and friends. You will attempt to find reprieve from the cold but will discover that the whole world is frozen, and in that state of despair, you will know what it is to beg for death.” He paused and let his words linger in the air between them. “That is your fate, brought about by none other than the goddess you protect now.” The five exchanged looks, a different kind of fear present on their faces. It was the acknowledgment he needed, that what he said was already coming to pass. “I will do it,” said Hercyna. “No!” the other four said in unison. “We will all do it,” said Cyane. She looked from her companions to Hades, her eyes alight with anger. “Even if it is only to inform her that you are looking for her.” “I imagine she already knows,” said Hades. “I’ll be waiting.”

“Why wouldn’t you tell me? If there is a chance we cannot be together, I have the right to know.” His chest hurt knowing how much this scared her. She’d had to face the guilt of loving him despite her mother’s wishes, only to be faced with the fact that Zeus might ruin it all. He rose onto his elbow so that he could look at her, silent tears gliding down her face. He brushed them away. “Persephone,” he said. “No one will keep us apart—not the Fates, not your mother, and not Zeus.” She swallowed and shook her head. “You are so certain, but even you will not challenge the Fates.” “Oh, darling, but I have told you before—for you, I would destroy this world.” Her gaze was unwavering, and he knew what she was searching for—any hint that he was not being truthful, and when she did not find it, she took a breath. “Perhaps that is what I fear the most.” Her comment took him back to his conversation with Hecate. Since when have you worried over carnage? she had asked. Since I decided to marry the Goddess of Spring. Perhaps he would not have to worry. By the end of this, she might not want him at all.

“Protect those in your circle, Aphrodite,” said Hades. “I think they want your wrath.” “Why would anyone want my wrath?” she asked, her fair fingers curled into fists. “To illustrate a point.” “What point, Hades?” “That a god’s favor truly means nothing,” he said.

“You know if you really wanted to find this creature, you could ask Artemis,” Hermes suggested. Hades bristled at her name, despite the fact that what he said was true. There was no greater huntress than the Goddess of the Hunt, but Artemis was not the type to help anyone, save those who worshipped her. If given knowledge of the ophiotaurus, she would likely slay it and burn the entrails herself. “I’d rather have my dick bitten off,” said Hades. “Try having it gummed.” Hades and Thanatos gave Hermes a horrified look. “I told you not everyone has teeth,” Hermes said with a shrug. Hades made a mental note to never talk about teeth with Hermes again. “I’m not asking Artemis to do anything,” Hades said. “She will see it as a way to obtain a favor.”

“Talk to Dionysus,” said Hades. “If his maenads get to the ophiotaurus first, I want to know.” “You want me to talk to Dionysus?” Hades raised a brow. “Yes, Hermes. You’re officially his keeper.” “Do you know if he’s still angry about his fiery balls?” “I don’t, but you can ask him yourself.” “Can it wait?” Hermes asked. “I have to get ready for Sybil’s housewarming party, and, by the way, so do you.” Fuck. He’d forgotten about that. “What’s a housewarming?” Thanatos asked. “It is a party where everyone brings wood to light the hearth in a new home,” said Hades. “Yeah,” said Hermes. He was already taking a step back, preparing to bolt for the Upperworld. “We’ll go with that. Bring plenty of wood.” “Hermes,” Hades warned. “Talk to Dionysus. Soon.” “What’s the exact definition of soon?” Hermes asked. Hades glared. Hermes grinned. “See you soon, Daddy Death!” He vanished, and when he was gone, Hades looked at Thanatos, who asked in a very serious tone, “Which one of us do you think he was calling Daddy Death?”

Persephone shifted from his grasp to knock on the door, her warmth disappearing with her distance. He didn’t like it. And he liked it even less when a man answered Sybil’s door. Not because he felt like a threat or even appeared to be. It was how he felt. Wrong. Deceptive. Hades returned his hand to Persephone’s waist. He wasn’t sure if he should feel relieved or worried when she seemed just as confused by the blond, blue-eyed man. “Um, I think we might have the wrong—” “Persephone, right?” the man asked. Hades stiffened. He did not like the way he said her name. It was too casual, too comfortable. “Persephone!” Sybil cried, running up behind the man who did not move, forcing the oracle to bow beneath his arm, which was braced against the doorframe as if he were some kind of guard. Hades also did not like that. He let Persephone go when Sybil pulled her in for a hug. “I’m so glad you’re here!” she said, and it was impossible not to hear the relief in her voice. Hades cast a dark look at the mortal male who watched them, unmoving. Had he made Sybil uncomfortable in her own home? His fingers tightened into fists. If Sybil did not introduce him soon, Hades would send him to a deserted island somewhere off the coast of New Greece. “I’m glad you could come too, Hades.” Hades was surprised and met the oracle’s gaze. “I appreciate the invitation,” he said sincerely. He was rarely invited to anything that wasn’t his own event. “Aren’t you going to introduce me?” The man standing g...

“Wine?” Sybil squeezed between them as she came into the kitchen, heading straight for the bar. She obviously knew what everyone would need to get through this night since Ben insisted on staying. “Please,” Persephone said. “For you, Hades?” “Whiskey…whatever you have is fine. Neat.” He paused, noticing the look Persephone cast his way, but he couldn’t tell what prompted her displeasure. “Please?” Perhaps he should have summoned his own

alcohol. “Neat?” Hades could not help but cringe when he heard the mortal’s voice. Perhaps it was because he knew every time the man opened his mouth, he would say something stupid. “Real whiskey drinkers at least add water.” There was a horrible silence in the room that everyone seemed to notice, save Ben. Persephone and Sybil froze, wide-eyed as they waited for Hades to retaliate. He looked at the mortal, voice dripping with a disdain he felt blacken his heart. “I add the blood of mortals,” he said. Which was a joke, except that Hades was tempted to test it and have Ben be the first sacrifice. Fuck, he had never hated someone so much in his life. “Of course, Hades,” Sybil said as if she had not heard Ben or Hades’s reply. She chose a bottle from the many cluttering the counter and offered the whole thing. “You’ll probably need it.” He smiled at her, as warmly as he could. “Thank you, Sybil,” he said, already loosening the cap to drink straight from the bottle.

“Sephy!” Hermes’s voice tore through his thoughts, and he turned to see the God of Mischief enter the kitchen, two bottles of alcohol in each hand. He set them down before dragging her against him for a hug. “You smell like Hades…and sex,” he declared, which, despite feeling a little guilty, made Hades chuckle. “Stop being creepy, Hermes!” Persephone seethed.

“Oh, and who is this?” “This is Ben. Sybil’s…” Persephone hesitated, apparently uncertain of how to describe the stalker. It didn’t matter, anyway, because neither one of them was paying attention. “Hermes, right?” Ben asked. Hermes looked bright with pride. “So you’ve heard of me?” Hades offered a humorless laugh as he took another drink. The comment was absurd—there wasn’t a mortal alive who didn’t know the God of Mischief. “Of course,” the mortal replied. “Are you still the Messenger of the Gods or do they use email?” Hades tried to hide his smile as he turned toward the window, pulling back a single curtain that had been tacked to the wall as he listened to Hermes’s snappy reply. “It’s Lord Hermes to you,” he said.

Hermes stabbed his thumb over his shoulder. “Can you believe that mortal?” he asked, then spoke in a mocking tone. “Do the gods use email? Fucker.” Hades found himself chuckling again. Hermes glared. “Don’t pretend like you aren’t antiquated too. Weren’t you replaced by murder?” “That’s…no, Hermes,” said Hades. “I mean, the audacity!” “You know, true revenge would be to not let him know he’s gotten under your skin,” said Hades. “You’re only saying that for your benefit.” Hades shrugged and took a drink. “The fucker thinks he is an oracle. Let him offer false prophecies and find himself at the mercy of Hecate.” Hades was not certain which god the mortal claimed to speak for or if he only claimed to see visions. Either way, Hecate despised anyone who alleged false power. “Summon her,” said Hermes, and then his voice darkened. “I want to see him burn.” Hades did not respond, though he enjoyed thinking about the scene Hecate would make inside Sybil’s small apartment if he called for her to punish the false prophet.

Leuce and Zofie were the last to arrive. Apparently, the two had decided it was a good idea to live together, though from what Hades had heard from Ilias, it was rather disastrous. Leuce had only just returned to her physical form after being a tree for centuries, and Zofie…Zofie was born and bred to be a warrior. Her instinct was to kill when something did not go her way, which meant she spent a lot of time destroying things for no reason. Like the vending machines at Alexandria Tower. They both had a lot to learn about society. Of the two, Hades expected Leuce to act uncomfortable in his presence. After all, he had been the one to turn her into a tree, but it was Zofie who froze when she spotted him. “My lord!” she exclaimed and swept into a stiff bow. “You don’t have to do that here, Zofie,” Persephone said, though Hades was not opposed. He found it strange that the Amazon insisted on bowing to him but not Persephone, who was technically her mistress, but he knew his goddess would be uncomfortable with that considering they were among…friends. “But…he is the Lord of the Underworld!” Zofie said. Hermes scoffed. “We’re all aware. Look at him—he’s the only goth in the room.” Hades scowled at the god who offered a sheepish grin and left Hades’s side, declaring, “Since everyone’s here, let’s play a game!” “What’s the game?” Helen asked. “Poker?” “No!” The reply came from almost everyone in the room—even Persephone. Hades glowered. He recognized he had a reputation when it ca...

“What’s Never Have I Ever?” Zofie asked. “Exactly what it sounds like. You make a statement about something you’ve never done, and if anyone has done it, they have to take a shot,” said Hermes, which was exactly why Hades hated the game. It was the last thing he wanted to play with Persephone in the room. He’d done everything in the fucking book because he was ancient—things he had never had the opportunity to tell Persephone about. He considered lying but knew Hermes would call him out. Fuck me. He would not forgive Hermes for this.

“Me first!” Hermes exclaims. “Never have I ever…had sex with Hades.” A warm flush rushed from the top of Hades’s head to his toes. Forget summoning Hecate to torture Ben. Hades would summon her for Hermes. “Hermes,” Persephone hissed. Forget Hecate. Perhaps Persephone would execute him on her own. She looked murderous enough. “What?” Hermes grumbled. “This game is difficult for someone my age. I’ve done everything.” It wasn’t until Leuce cleared her throat that Hermes seemed to realize the issue with what he’d said. Persephone wasn’t the only person Hades had slept with in this room, and the reminder wasn’t a pleasant one—for any of them. “Oh. Oh.” An awkward silence followed as both Persephone and Leuce took a shot, and while he kept his gaze trained on Persephone, he could feel the strain between them.

“Never have I ever…eaten food off someone’s naked body,” Ben said, and Hades had to drink. “Never have I ever…had sex in the kitchen,” Helen said. Another drink. “Never have I ever had sex in public,” Sybil said. Another drink. Hades never thought he would say this, but he was getting tired of drinking. Each time he did, he felt Persephone’s energy change and morph into something dark and angry, and it recoiled from his own. He didn’t like it. “Never have I ever…had sex with a priestess,” said Hermes. “That’s a lie,” said Hades. “Is it?” Hermes asked, surprised, and then shrugged. “Hmm. Okay.” Hades did not drink. Helen continued the game, declaring, “Never have I ever faked an orgasm.” Hades watched in relative horror as Persephone lifted her glass to her perfect lips and drank. What a fucking lie. He narrowed his eyes. He was the only person she had ever had sex with, and he knew he had never left her unsatisfied or wanting. “If that is true,” he said, his gaze unwavering, burning into her. He hoped she could feel what he intended to do to her—how he would make her beg for release, how he would shatter her so thoroughly she would feel the aftereffects for days. “I will happily rectify the situation.” “Oh,” Hermes hummed. “Someone’s getting fucked tonight.” “Shut up, Hermes,” Persephone snapped. “What?” he grumbled. “You’re just lucky he didn’t carry you away to the Underworld the moment you lifted that glass.” He’d thought about it, but it was far more rewarding to fuck ...

“You had to know your actions would ignite me,” he said. They crawled under his skin and made him burn alive. He wanted to fuck her, to feel her come around his cock so hard, she was left with no ability to stand or speak. “When have I left you wanting?” he asked, his lips grazing the edge of her ear and down the column of her neck. She shivered. “Will you not answer?” He pulled away and lifted his hand to her neck. Her pulse raced beneath his hand. “I’d really have rather not found out about your sexual exploits via a game in front of my friends,” she said. It wasn’t his preference either. “So you thought it better to reveal that I had not satisfied you in the same manner?” She averted her gaze and swallowed. He could feel her throat constrict. He leaned in, his tongue trailing the edge of her ear. “Shall I leave no doubt in their minds that I can make you come?” he whispered and let his hands smooth up the backs of her thighs, under her dress to her underwear, which he tore in two. “Hades! We are guests here!” “Your point?” he asked as he took out his cock and lifted her into his arms, letting her back rest against the door. “It’s rude to have sex in someone’s bathroom.” Despite her protests, she let him do as he pleased.

“Okay, first, it’s rude to have sex in other people’s bathrooms,” Hermes said, his tone taking on a higher pitch, as if he were irritated. “Second, it’s about the weather.”

“This is a god,” the false oracle began. “A god cursing us!” Silence filled the room at the mortal’s declaration, and while no one would argue the point, it was another to state it in a room with actual gods. Ben met Hades’s gaze. “Do you deny it?” he challenged. “It is not wise to jump to conclusions, mortal,” Hades gritted out. He really hated this man. “I’m not jumping to conclusions. I have foreseen this! The gods will rain terror down upon us. There will be despair and destruction.” Hades glanced at Persephone, who looked pale and uncertain. What Ben said was not outside the realm of possibility, but it was also information anyone could spout so long as they were familiar with the history of Greece. “Careful with your words, oracle,” Hermes warned. His body had grown rigid, and he stood with his shoulders squared and fists clenched. He had taken great offense to Ben’s words. “I am only speaking—” “What you hear,” Sybil interrupted quickly. “Which may or may not be the word of a god, and judging by the fact that you have no patron, I’m guessing you’re being fed prophecies from an impious entity. If you had training, you would know that.” An impious entity could be anything—another mortal filling his head with impious thoughts or even a soul trapped on this earth, whispering to him in the dark. “And what is so bad about an impious entity? Sometimes they are the only truth tellers.” “I think you should leave,” said Sybil, though her voice quaked. Fucking finally, Hades t...

“Did anyone else really hate that Ben guy?” asked Leuce. What a ridiculous question, Hades thought. Of course everyone hated him. “Sybil should keep a blade beneath her bed in case he comes back,” said Zofie helpfully. “Or she could just lock her door,” Helen suggested. “Locks can be picked. A blade is better,” Zofie insisted, and Hades couldn’t disagree. Someone like Ben wasn’t going to let a lock get in the way of what he wanted, just like he wouldn’t let the word no stop him.

“What’s wrong with the dress?” she asked. Dionysus could feel the heat rushing to his head, roaring in his ears. “Do you know how many men will look at you tonight?” “I imagine quite a few,” she said. “Including you.” He swallowed and looked away. “I did not intend to be disrespectful,” he said, his voice low and gruff, not because he did not wish to apologize but because he was embarrassed. “I can protect myself, Dionysus,” she said. Her comment drew his eyes once more, and he could not help letting his gaze drift down her body. “I am armed.” “In that dress?” “Yes, in this dress.” He raised a brow. “You don’t believe me,” she said. “That dress barely covers your ass, Ariadne.” “It goes well below my ass, Dionysus. Perhaps you need a lesson in anatomy.” “If you’re willing,” he said. She glared and then lifted the hem of her dress. “This is my gun,” she said and bared a brace she’d secured at the height of her thigh. “And this is my ass.” She turned and exposed one firm, round cheek. What the fuck was happening? “Ariadne,” Dionysus warned, gripping the bar behind him until his fingers hurt. His dick was hard, and there was no fucking way he would find relief with her dressed like that the entire night. It did not help that he could not stop thinking about how he’d like to punish her. He wanted to smack her ass hard enough to elicit a cry from those full lips and bury his fingers in her wet heat. When she came, he would make her suck those same fingers while he fucked her fr...

“I don’t understand,” she said. “You use your magic to conduct orgies in this square, and yet outside this, you—” Dionysus gave her a harsh look, warning her not to finish that sentence. All he needed was this mouthy detective to ruin everything he’d worked hard to establish here. “Why?” “Consensual sex is not unwilling. You of all people should know that. Those who come to this square, they want to fuck, and they don’t care with who.” “I do not come here to fuck,” she said. “Perhaps you should,” he said. “You might be a little more bearable.” She glared at him, her mouth tightening, but her silence did not last long. “Do you participate?” she asked. Dionysus looked at her. “Why?” “I just wondered,” she said, looking away quickly. “I suppose that depends on your definition of participate.” “What other definition is there?” “In reference to the festival, you could be asking me anything. Do I dance? Do I sing? Do I—” “Do you fuck strangers, Dionysus?” Ariadne snapped, clearly fed up with him. He smirked in triumph, but it only lasted a moment, because he soon realized just how frustrated she was. “No,” he said finally. “Or at least…not in a long time.”

“I need to know if you’re going to be okay,” he said. “If I…can touch you.” She studied his face. “If it means finding Medusa and getting my sister back, I can do anything.” He gave a sharp nod.

“Fuck,” he breathed as he kissed up her neck and jaw. “Has anyone ever told you you’re perfect?” “You would be the first,” she whispered. “What a shame,” he said, and their mouths clashed again. Dionysus had never felt so frenzied with anyone before, but Ariadne was a match, and he wanted to burn beneath her.

“Do I make you nervous, Madam Selene?” “Anyone would be nervous in the presence of such a god,” she said. Hades chuckled, and he looked at his feet as he spoke. “Could it be that you are nervous because you once allowed my fiancée to go to auction?” Madam Selene jerked her head toward Hades. “She said she wouldn’t tell.” “Are you suggesting my future wife, the Queen of the Underworld, is a liar, Madam?” “No, of course not. I—” “She didn’t tell me,” he said. “Apollo did.” The madam took a deep, shuddering breath. “Have you come to kill me, then?” Hades laughed, but she looked stricken. “No,” he said. “Though I will ask for your penance.” She swallowed. “And what might that be?” “A favor,” he said. “To be collected at a future date.” “I hardly have anything of value to offer, my lord,” she said. “You have your soul,” Hades said and met her gaze. She stared, still and silent, likely waiting for him to steal her soul. “But I can take that at will,” he said. “I’ll determine what is valuable, Madam, and trust me when I say, I will collect.” When he met her eyes again, she nodded once.

Hades moved into the adjacent room where a spotless tub sat on clawed feet. Beyond that was a massive bed upon which Apollo lay flat on his back, arms and legs spread wide. He wore a robe, but it was open, exposing a very obvious erection, and he was snoring. Loud. Hades watched the god for a moment, and then his eyes shifted to an empty bottle of vodka that sat on the table beside the bed. Another lay on the ground. Fuck. Apollo was difficult to deal with when he was sober, but drunk? Hades gave a frustrated sigh, swiped one of the empty bottles off the floor, filled it with water from the tub, and then poured it over Apollo’s face. The god flailed beneath the stream. “What the fuck!” Apollo sputtered. Though he was awake, Hades did not stop until the bottle was empty. He let his arm drop to his side as Apollo glared back at him. “You snore,” Hades said. “I do not snore!” Apollo snapped. “Yes, you do,” Hades said. “I just heard you.” Apollo ignored him and pulled on the hem of his robe with two fingers. “You’ve ruined my kimono.” He pushed off the bed and discarded the robe as he walked bare-ass naked to a wardrobe across the room. He threw open the doors to reveal several kimonos of the same color and pattern. Hades shook his head. “What the fuck?” “What, Hades?” the god snapped, taking a robe from one of the hangers and slipping it on as he raged. “It’s fashion, something you would know little about since the only color in your wardrobe is black, but I suppose that is f...

“What’s wrong?” Hades asked. “What’s wrong?” Apollo repeated, whipping around to face the God of the Dead. “I don’t know, Hades. Perhaps I am angry because I was waterboarded awake.” Hades rolled his eyes and sighed, but Apollo wasn’t finished. “Or maybe it’s because I spent most of my day elbows-deep in a fucking body after being summoned to a fucking crime scene at four in the gods-damned morning.” Hades watched the god as he started to pace. “Or maybe it’s because I haven’t fucked anyone in a month, but you would know nothing about that because you get fucked every night, multiple times a night.” “I…do not know what we’re talking about anymore, Apollo, but I think you need therapy.” “What I need is everyone to leave me the fuck alone!” There was silence, and then Hades asked, “Apollo…are you in love?” “What? No!” “Who is it this time?” “Don’t make it sound like it means nothing,” Apollo said.

“All right then,” Hades said. “What makes this one different?” “I don’t know,” Apollo said, frustrated. “That’s the problem. I just want him.” “And what? He doesn’t want you?” The god was silent. “Apollo?” “I don’t want to find out,” he muttered. “What?” “I don’t want to find out!” he shouted, and his eyes were glassy. “You don’t know what this is like, but I have loved so many, and they have never loved me back.” “Apollo—” “I don’t want to want this man,” he said. “It would be better for both of us.” All Hades had wanted was to know what had killed Adonis. Why was this his life? “The problem is that you do want him,” said Hades. “So what are you going to do about it?” Apollo blinked. “What do you mean?” “You want this man, whoever he is—” “Ajax. His name is…Ajax.” “You want Ajax. So you can either tell him your feelings or you can do nothing, but if you do nothing, you will have to accept that he will eventually find someone else.” “Who is to say that isn’t for the best?” “You cannot compare every lover to Hyacinth, Apollo. That is not fair to you or the lover.” “Would you not compare every lover to Persephone?” he countered. Hades’s jaw tightened, and he glared at Apollo. He wouldn’t indulge his temper. “I remember an Apollo who was willing to lose just to win the love of his life,” said Hades. “And here you are, not even willing to take a risk.” “That Apollo died a long time ago,” Apollo said. “To think, you could have been rid of me if you’d just thrown me into Tartarus.”

“While it is true you annoy the ever living fuck out of me,” Hades said, “and I could murder you for the bargain you struck with Persephone…I would miss this.” “Miss what?” Apollo asked, confused. “This,” Hades said, waving a hand at the whole of Apollo, “pathetic…” “Pathetic?” “…pitiable…” “Pitiable?” “…miserable…” “Miserable?” “…thing you have going on. It really exudes God of Light.” “Fuck you,” Apollo said. Hades chuckled darkly. “You’re the one who asked what was wrong,” Apollo muttered. “I also asked how Adonis died,” said Hades. “And all you told me was that he was stabbed with a curved blade.” “Did you miss the part where I said multiple times?” Apollo snapped. “Show me the body,” Hades said. “Show me the wounds.” Apollo offered a sigh that sounded more like a growl, a single word slipping between gritted teeth. “Fine.”

“Never have I ever wanted anyone but you.” “Never?” she questioned. He didn’t think she even realized how skeptical she sounded. “Even before you knew I existed?” “Yes.”

“Before you, I only knew loneliness, even in a room full of people—it was an ache, sharp and cold and constant, and I was desperate to fill it.” “And now?” The question was almost a demand, as if she did not care about before anymore, just now, just this moment. Hades smiled as he continued his exploration of her body, making his way to her chest. “Now I ache to fill you,” he said and licked the batter he’d used to mark her skin.

“I was jealous that you had shared so much with so many before me, and I know you cannot help it and that you have lived so long…but I…” Her breath caught in her throat and her legs tightened around him as he continued to use his fingers and thumb to pleasure her, but it did not matter. He did not need to hear any more. He leaned closer to her, his mouth hovering over hers. “I’d have had you from the beginning,” he said. “But the Fates are cruel.” “I was only given to punish,” she said. Those words were like a knife to his chest. She was referring to the fact that while the Fates had granted Demeter’s wish to have a child, it had come with one consequence—her life would be intertwined with Hades’s, one of the gods Demeter hated most. As much as it seemed to be an insecurity for her, it also was for him. Still, he refused to think too long on it—to consider that just as their futures had been woven, they could also be unraveled. “No,” he soothed. “You are pleasure. My pleasure.”

“It is you now, you forever,”

“What are you doing?” she demanded as he pulled her up and off the counter. She glared up at him as he held her, his fingers biting into her body. “When I’m finished, the next time we play that damned game, you’ll walk away so drunk, I’ll have to carry you home.” “So what? You intend to fuck me in all the ways I haven’t been fucked tonight?” Yes, he thought, his cock straining. He wanted to feel her around him—all that swollen heat coaxing come into her body as if she were starved for it. “Technically, it’s morning,” he said in a breathless chuckle. “I have to go to work soon.” “Pity,” he said and turned her around and pushed her until her cheek met the granite countertop.

“I haven’t forgotten your earlier claim,” he said, his mouth near her ear. “I lied,” she said, her words barely audible, she was so lost in the pleasure of this moment. “I know, and I intend to discourage such lies,” he said, mouth closing over her skin, sucking any part of her that was exposed to him. “I will fuck you to the point that you are desperate for release—over and over again so that when you finally do come, you won’t even remember your name.” “You think you’ll be able to stop?” she said, breathless, and yet there was a challenge to her voice. “To deprive yourself of the satisfaction of my orgasm?” He smiled against her. “If it means hearing you beg for me, darling—yes.”