“You’re mine,” she said, her fingers trailing through his hair, which had come loose during their intercourse. “Of course I can handle you.” Hades lifted himself up so he could meet her gaze. He wasn’t sure why he always waited for her to break, to leave, to run when she spoke like this. It didn’t make sense. It would never make sense. But he was so fucking grateful she loved him. “I never thought I’d thank the Fates for anything they gave me, but you—you were worth all of it.” “All of what?” “The suffering.”
