A Game of Gods (Hades Saga, #3)

by Scarlett St. Clair

“I love you. I have only ever loved you.” The truth of those words tightened his chest. “I know,” she said, a nearly inaudible reply. “Do you?” He was not sure she could ever understand the depth of his feeling, how completely and utterly grateful he was for every moment he had with her. But then, he also could not pretend to understand her either. As much as he had hoped, as much as he had wished for a reprieve from this world, a single bright spot in his life, she had too. “I know,” she said vehemently. “I love you. I just want everything. I want more. I want all of you.” “You have it,” he said, her declaration urging him on.

“We fought,” Hephaestus said. “Is Aphrodite all right?” Hades’s voice rose in alarm. “She’s fine, physically at least,” Hephaestus said quickly. “I didn’t touch her. I’ve never…touched her.” Hephaestus took a deep breath and then raked his fingers through his hair. “What happened?” Hades asked again. “She…accused me of being the reason Harmonia was injured,” Hephaestus said. “She said that whatever had been used against Harmonia had to have been one of my creations.” So many relics had been stolen and funneled into the black market it wasn’t impossible but that did not make it Hephaestus’s fault. After a moment, the god continued. “I left after she told me how miserable I made her and came here,” he said. “The rest you can guess.” Hades had to admit, though he’d always known something seething lingered beneath the surface of Hephaestus’s calm and quiet exterior, seeing it in person was another experience entirely. He understood that the god was not proud. If anything, he seemed even more devastated that he had not been able to control his anger. “Hephaestus, you don’t really believe—” “I believe what she says, Hades,” Hephaestus said quickly. “I have nothing else.” Hades did not know what to say. These two gods had loved each other for most of their immortal lives, and yet they had never managed to learn how to speak the same language. “She should have left me long ago.” “Do you not know the woman you married?” Hades asked. “If she wanted to leave, she would have.” “Then h...

“If you are to live life with her, all you can do is be the person she needs in those hard moments, no matter how much it hurts you, and she will do the same for you.”

It felt…unfair. What if he gave her too much? “Has she ever given you too much?” Hecate asked. “No,” Hades said. “She could never…” “She feels no different about you, Hades. You must cease thinking that your love is somehow greater than hers just because you have lived longer, yearned longer.” He held his breath as she spoke, feeling as though she were attacking him in some way, and yet he knew what she said was right. He did think that way and often. A sudden gnawing guilt overtook the fear. “Persephone has chosen you, and she accepts you in whatever way you choose to offer yourself, but is it fair that she cannot see you struggle when so often you must bear witness to hers?” “I am protecting her,” he said. “Are you protecting her or yourself?” Hades was quiet. “Persephone has grown because at some point, you made her feel safe enough to be vulnerable with you. As a result, she has come to see your side of things and respect your decisions. If you do not offer her the same, can you truly respect her?” Hades’s teeth ground so hard, his jaw hurt, and the pain was spreading to the back of his head. “If you expect the world to tear you apart, it will.” “Then what do you want me to do?” “I want you to stop being an idiot,” said Hecate, though her voice held no scorn. “I want you to recognize the importance of being vulnerable with Persephone, because apart, you are both powerful, to be sure, but together, you are unstoppable.”

“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.”

Before he’d married Phaedra, he had dated Ariadne. He’d liked her more than her sister. She liked to fuck and fuck hard. There was nothing soft about her, but therein lay the problem. Ariadne would not be controlled, at least not on her own, but through her sister, who was so easily swayed with a few pretty words, she was malleable in his hands. That made him harder, and he let himself think about what he would do when she did return to him and demand to see her sister. Perhaps he would agree and let her watch as he fucked Phaedra. Her horror would make him come, and when he did, he’d force his dick into her mouth and fill her throat.

“What happens now?” she asked. Fuck me. Of course she was thinking about their next move. What were they going to do now that they knew Medusa had last been seen near the ocean, near Poseidon’s realm? “I don’t know,” he admitted. He needed time to think, time to process. The question was, did they have time? “Can we trust Michail not to tell anyone who we were looking for?” “No,” said Dionysus. She stared at him. “Then why didn’t you kill him?” Dionysus raised a brow. “Easy, Detective. I thought you were opposed to killing?” She glared at him. “It is not as if Michail is a good guy.”

“Fuck me,” he muttered. “I would, but you aren’t really my type.” “Fuck you, Hermes,” he said. He’d sensed the god’s magic the moment he’d stepped out of the bathroom. He didn’t even turn to look at him as he crossed to his dresser. “Don’t be angry about it,” Hermes said. Dionysus ignored him and dropped the towel, changing into a pair of boxers. When he turned to face the God of Mischief, he looked a little stunned. “You don’t have a type, Hermes,” said Dionysus. “You would fuck a rock if you found it pretty enough.” Hermes found his speech again. “Hey, I have standards!” “Which is why I said pretty,” Dionysus mumbled, pulling back the blankets on his bed. He did not care that Hermes was here and likely wanted to talk. He was tired.

“You would think Hades was your king with the way you hang on his every word.” Hermes narrowed his eyes this time. “Perhaps if you were not so threatened by his leadership, you might see the value in his council.” “What council? At this very moment, his decisions have us facing defeat.” Hades had openly admitted he was the reason the ophiotaurus had been resurrected. “He had no choice,” Hermes defended. “There is always a choice,” Dionysus said, and then he snapped his mouth shut, realizing too late that he sounded like his foster father. “It sounds as though you have yet to make one,” said Hermes. “I chose a side,” Dionysus spat. “You didn’t choose a side. You picked the best route for your revenge.” Hermes sounded like Silenus. “And?” Hermes shook his head. “You stand for nothing,” he said. Dionysus ground his teeth. “It’s probably a good thing Hades doesn’t trust you,” Hermes added. “It doesn’t sound like he should.” And with that, he left.

“I would like for you to office here,” he said. It was the perfect place. He owned the building and every business that operated out of it, including the Cypress Foundation, which he hoped to see Persephone become more involved with. Being so close to Katerina would ensure collaboration. What mattered most, though, was that Persephone didn’t see it as some kind of prison. She met his gaze and seemed more surprised than anything. He couldn’t tell if that was a good sign or not. “Is this because of yesterday?” “That is one reason. It will also be convenient. I’d like your input as we continue the Halcyon Project, and I imagine your work with The Advocate will lead to other ideas.” “Are you asking me to work with Katerina?” “Yes. You are to be queen of my realm and empire. It’s only fitting that this foundation begins to benefit your passions as well.” Her silence worried him, and he watched as she made a circle around the room. “You are opposed?” he asked, unable to help it. He needed to know what she was thinking. “No,” she said quickly and then turned fully to face him. “Thank you. I can’t wait to tell Helen and Leuce.” Relief flooded him. “Selfishly, I will be glad to have you close.” “You rarely work here,” Persephone said. “As of today,” he said, stepping closer, “this is my favorite office.” “Lord Hades, I must inform you that I am here to work,” she said. Her voice was low, her smell intoxicating, and as she spoke, she looked at his mouth. “Of course,” he said, guidin...

“What is it?” he asked as he closed the door. Katerina glanced around, as if she were anxious to speak. It was not as if anyone could hear them in her office, but the walls were all glass. “I had a dream about the ophiotaurus,” she said. Hades was quiet for a moment and then asked, “And how do dreams work for you?” All oracles were different. Dreams were said to be the only peek gods and mortals had into the minds of the Fates. Sometimes their dreams foretold the future exactly as it would unfold; sometimes they were warnings for what might come to pass, but the details were still malleable; sometimes they were simply fears. A good oracle could tell the difference, and since Hades knew Katerina was a good oracle, it likely wasn’t just a fear. “I have never dreamed something that did not come to pass,” she answered. Hades felt like something heavy had settled in the bottom of his stomach. “Tell me,” he said. She shook her head. “This creature, the ophiotaurus. Its death is the catalyst to a battle that rages for years, and by the end, the world will split in two.” “But what did you see?” he asked. “Fire in all directions and bodies burning within it,” she said. “There was nothing left of this world as we know it, as if…we had gone back to the dawn of the earth.” “Did you recognize any of the bodies?” he asked. He knew she had because she wasn’t giving him the details that mattered, and what mattered was who was in the fire. “Hades,” she whispered, her eyes glassy with tears...

“Fuck me,” he said. “Totally would,” said Hermes, appearing in a flourish of cloudy magic. Hades let his hands drop and tilted his head. “Why the fanfare?” he said. “You aren’t in public.” “I wanted to surprise Persephone,” Hermes said. “I don’t think she’s witnessed my…effervescence.” Hades raised a brow, and Hermes looked around. “Where is Persephone anyway?” “Your brother just took her,” Hades said. “Perhaps you should go get her back.” “Uh, no,” Hermes said. “I had to do a lot of atoning when I stole his cattle. Do you think I want to do it again after stealing Persephone?” “Did you just compare my wife to cattle?” “Wife?” Hermes asked, waggling his brows. “Already practicing?” “Fuck off, Hermes,” Hades growled.

“Demeter is big mad,” Hermes said. Hades looked at him in confusion. “Big mad?” “You know, really mad,” Hermes explained and then shimmied his head and shoulders as he added, “Mad as fuck.” “Why not just say that instead?” “Because it isn’t cool, Hades,” Hermes said. “If you’re going to fit in, you need to learn the lingo.” “Lingo?” “The language.” Hades chuckled and Hermes narrowed his eyes. “I hate you,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. They were both quiet for a moment as they looked out at the world. Hades had expected the weather to worsen, but seeing it in real time brought on a greater sense of dread. “You know who I hate more than you?” Hermes asked. “I think I can guess,” Hades replied. Demeter. “I haven’t seen anything like this since ancient times,” Hermes said.

“I doubt you came to watch the weather,” said Hades. “Or even to show Persephone your…effervescent magic. So what is it?” “Do I have to have a reason to visit my best friend?” “I thought I was your best friend,” Hades said dryly. “Listen, there’s plenty of me to go around,” Hermes said. “You don’t have to fight.” Hades turned his head to look at Hermes. He sighed. “Fine. Aphrodite sent me to inform Persephone that Harmonia was awake.” “Just Persephone?” “She specifically said not to involve you,” Hermes said, rubbing the back of his head. “I can already feel the consequences of this one.” “Would you rather my wrath or hers?” Hades asked. “Clearly yours,” Hermes said, annoyed, then muttered, “Some friend.”

The God of Thieves appeared in a puff of white smoke, except this time, it was far too much. It filled the room in a great cloud, blinding and choking Hades. “What the fuck, Hermes,” he growled between fits of coughing. He had to close his eyes to keep them from burning as he made his way to the door and pushed it open. The smoke began to dissipate, and Hades came face-to-face with Hermes, who wore a bedazzled, light-blue leotard with the center cut out, exposing part of his chest and stomach. Perhaps the worst part was how it stuck to his privates, outlining his balls and semihard dick. “Why are you like this?” Hades asked. “What?” Hermes asked, looking down at his outfit. “You don’t like it?” “I’m not even going to honor that question with a response,” Hades said. “I need help. The souls have arranged a surprise engagement party and I…want to look…” “Less like a goth?” Hermes prompted. “I want to surprise Persephone,” Hades said. “We could swap outfits,” Hermes suggested. “That would really surprise her.” Hades glared. “Fine,” Hermes huffed and then stalked over to him. “Stand still!” He placed a hand on his chin and then made a circle around Hades, assessing him from head to toe. “What are you looking at?” Hades asked, growing impatient. “Shh,” Hermes ordered, waving his hands back and forth. “You are interrupting my genius.” Hades rolled his eyes. “I saw that,” Hermes snapped. “Do you want my help or not?” Hades crossed his arms over his chest. “Put your arms down!” Ha...

Hermes spent what felt like an entire hour brushing out his hair, then he tied half of it back, away from his face. “Drop your glamour,” Hermes said. Hades lifted a brow and met Hermes’s stare in the mirror. It wasn’t that he minded his true form. It was the order from Hermes that bothered him. “It’s hotter,” Hermes added. Hades rolled his eyes but let his magic fall away.

Hades never really considered that beauty would be the weapon to stop his heart, but here he was, barely breathing. She made it so easy to forget every weight he carried—the ophiotaurus, the attacks on Adonis and Harmonia, the dangerous relics and weapons, the anxiety of Demeter’s storm.

“We have a lot of games to play,” Hades said. “Which shall we play first?” He called out the name of each game and let the children decide. They began with hide-and-seek, which excited him at first. Perhaps he could manage to get Persephone alone, but that turned out to be impossible, as each time he went in search of her, she had a child in tow, clinging to her skirts or cradled in her arms. He was again hopeful when they moved on to blindman’s bluff. He would gladly grope at her blindly, but before they even began, she dashed his dream. “Lord Hades is not allowed to be it,” she said. He tilted his head. “And why is that, Lady Persephone?” She cocked a brow. “Because you cheat.” “What a wild accusation,” he replied, affronted. “Do you deny it, Lord Hades? That you cheated during hide-and-seek, vanishing from sight just when you were about to be found?” “It’s called using your resources,” he replied. She was not amused.

The Fates agreed to grant Semele divinity, but in exchange, Hades had to give up his ability to have children. He hadn’t even had to think about the trade then. It was the easiest decision he had ever made. He had no great love, only lovers. This, he thought, was a true blessing. But the Fates had known better. He should have known better. Now his head rested in the lap of his truest love, and he couldn’t make her a mother.

“If I had known—if I’d been given any inkling—I would have never—” “It’s all right, Hades,” she said. “I did not ask to cause you grief.” “You did not cause me grief,” he said. “I think back on that moment often, reflecting on the ease with which I gave up something I would come to wish for, but that is the consequence of bargaining with the Fates. Inevitably, you will always desire what they take. One day, I think, you will come to resent me for my actions.” “I do not, and I will not,” she said, as if she were insulted he suggested it. “Can you not forgive yourself as easily as you have forgiven me? We have all made mistakes, Hades.”

“I will give you the world,” he whispered, his mouth hovering over hers. “I don’t need the world,” she said. “I just need you.” He kissed her, made love to her, and brought her to release under his sky.

“Have you thought any more about your plan to rescue Medusa from Poseidon?” The reality was that he had thought about it, and his meeting was actually with the god himself, but he did not want to tell Ariadne that because he did not wish for her to accompany him. The fewer women he could put in Poseidon’s path, the better. “I’m working on it,” he said with far more frustration than he intended. “You’re moving too slow,” she said. “Can you just trust me once?” Dionysus snapped. He should have stopped talking then, but he couldn’t help himself. He continued. “You’re used to shoving your way into situations that don’t concern you because you think you have authority, but you have none here. The sooner you realize that, the better.” She slammed her book closed. “You wonder why I don’t trust you.” “I don’t wonder,” he said. “I know.” She shook her head. “You don’t respect me. You don’t value anything I have to offer.” That was not true, but he dared not say that aloud. “I could say the same about you,” Dionysus said.

“I’m not interested in your opinions, Poseidon. I’ve only come to ask if you know a woman by the name of Medusa. She was apparently last seen on your shores, and now she is missing.” “How should I know? So many women come and go,” Poseidon said airily. “A woman is missing. She might be in trouble or worse, and that is all you have to say?” Though he was not surprised, Dionysus was still disgusted. “I cannot imagine why you care so much about this one woman. Have you not rescued thousands on your little mission to end trafficking? By the way, how is that going?” Poseidon paused, his brows lowering. “Do you ever tell them about your past? When you would strike women with such madness they would fall on your dick blindly?” “You know nothing of what you speak,” Dionysus said, his body vibrating with anger. “Well, perhaps we remember the past differently.” “This was a mistake,” he said. He should have listened to his gut and not tried to please Ariadne. “The girl staying at your house,” Poseidon said. “Has she fallen on your dick too?” Dionysus froze. He wasn’t sure why everyone seemed so obsessed with his dick. “Since when do you care who I fuck?” “I suppose it’s been a while,” Poseidon mused. “As it is, I do not care, but my son cares who she fucks.” “She does not belong to your son.” “I think we both know that isn’t true.” “What are you saying, Poseidon?” “I’m saying I do not think you wish to go to war over a woman again. It did not end well for you last time.”

“I did not come here to discuss Ariadne,” said Dionysus. “Right. You came to see what I knew about Medusa,” Poseidon said. “I fucked her and left her. I don’t know what happened after. Perhaps she begged Hades to die. Pity, though. If I had known the value of her beautiful head, I’d have cut it off where she lay.” Dionysus glared, his nails biting into his palms. Poseidon leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, hands clasped. “Tell me you knew. They say she can turn men to stone, but only after her head is separated from her body.” He paused and offered a horrible smirk. “Just like a woman, isn’t it?” he continued. “To be useful only after she’s dead.”

Hades left then and arrived at the edge of the Forest of Despair. Opposite him, a weak and dazed Pirithous appeared. As soon as his feet touched the ground, he collapsed. “Get up,” Hades ordered. The demigod looked up, meeting Hades’s gaze, and a guttural cry burst from his mouth. “No, please,” he begged. “Please, my lord.” “Get up,” Hades said again. The command was low but it vibrated the very air, a warning that brought Pirithous to his shaky feet, though he continued to plead as he sobbed. “Please,” he said, and it turned into a whisper as he said it over and over again. “Please, please, please.” “Did Persephone beg for you to stop too?” Hades asked. “She would forgive me!” Pirithous insisted through clenched teeth, and the words cut through Hades like a blade. There were a number of things he wanted to say, but he settled on one as he dropped his glamour, the magic curling away from his body in the form of sharp shadows with only one purpose—to hunt. “Run,” Hades ordered. “Please, no,” Pirithous said as he stumbled back and fell, quickly scrambling to his feet. Hades ground his teeth. That fucking word.

“Did she say that word?” Hades asked aloud, and though Pirithous struggled a distance ahead, Hades knew his voice echoed through the forest. The demigod hesitated at the edge of a lake that seemed endless in every direction he turned. It was a reservoir, fed by the rivers Phlegethon and Cocytus, but he did not know that, and taking a step in, he found that the water was thick and it burned. He howled, unable to pull himself free. Then suddenly, Pirithous was jerked from the edge of the shore and hauled into its center where the water churned violently, burning every inch of his skin. He screamed in one continuous wail until he disappeared beneath the surface of the water. Hades let him suffer there for a while, then parted the tarlike water until there was a clear path from one side to the other. At the center of it lay Pirithous, body scorched and barely breathing. With a jerk of his hand, Hades drew the black water from his lungs. The demigod gasped and rolled onto his back, breath coming in wheezing rasps. “Did you let her go when she begged?” Hades asked as he approached. Pirithous struggled to rise and managed only to get to his hands and knees, yet he crawled, and when he could move no longer, he collapsed. Despite his burned flesh, the whites of Pirithous’s eyes were still visible, his words a low grind that sounded as if it came from his chest. At least he could no longer say please. “Was it worth it?” Hades asked, and when the demigod closed his eyes, Hades’s rage...

“I do not need to tell you why you are here,” Persephone said. “Will you kill me?” the woman asked. “I am not the Goddess of Retribution,” Persephone said. “You did not answer my question.” “I am not the one being questioned.” The woman’s mouth tightened. “What’s your name?” Persephone asked. The woman lifted her chin and replied, “Lara.” “Lara, why did you attack me in the Coffee House?” “Because you were there and I wanted you to hurt.” Hades’s fists clenched. He wanted to hurt her. “Why?” The why did not matter; it was the fact that she had. The snakes reacted to Hades’s own anger, hissing violently as they lifted their heads and bared their fangs. Lara closed her eyes and prepared for the bite. “Not yet,” Persephone said, and the snakes stilled. When the woman opened her eyes and met her gaze, Persephone spoke. “I asked you a question.” There was a moment of silence, and then the woman broke. “Because you represent everything that is wrong with this world,” she said, tears streaming down her face. “You think you stand for justice because you wrote some angry words in a newspaper, but they mean nothing! Your actions are by far more telling—you, like so many, have merely fallen into the same trap. You are a sheep, corralled by Olympian glamour.” This woman had been hurt by a god. Hades knew it and Persephone knew it. “What happened to you?” Persephone asked. “I was raped,” she seethed quietly. “By Zeus.” Hades wished he could say he was shocked by her answer, but the fac...

“How would you have Zeus punished?” Hades asked. Persephone and Lara looked at him, surprised, but Hades waited for her answer. “I would have him torn apart limb by limb and his body burned,” Lara said, her voice shaking with menace. “I would have his soul fracture into millions of pieces until nothing was left but the whisper of his screams echoing in the wind.” “And you think you can bring that justice?” he asked. She had to know she was not capable of such retribution, so she had to have someone else in mind. “Not me. Gods,” she said. “New ones. It will be a rebirth.” New gods. Rebirth. Those were words used by Harmonia’s attackers too. “No,” Hades said. “It will be a massacre—and it will not be us who dies. It will be you.” “What happened to you was horrible,” Persephone said, her hand threading through his. “And you are right that Zeus should be punished. Will you not let us help you?” “There is no hope for me.” “There is always hope,” Persephone said. “It is all we have.”

He returned to the Underworld and went in search of Hecate, finding her in her cottage. “Is that blood?” he asked, because whatever was in the jar at the center of her table definitely looked like blood. “It is,” she said simply. “Do you want it?” “I most definitely do not want a jar of blood, Hecate.” “It’s your brother’s,” she said, her voice taking on an enticing tone. “My brother?” “From the castration,” she said. “I see Lara’s story filled you with rage,” he said. “As it should you,” she said. It did. The only thing he struggled to forgive was what she’d done to Persephone. Hades picked up the jar for a closer look, noting that two shriveled testicles also floated in the mixture. “Hecate,” Hades said, setting the jar down again. “What are you going to do with this?” “Keep it,” she said. Her back was still to him as she packed small bags with herbs to make tea. “As a trophy?” Hades inquired. “You know the dangers of god blood,” she said. “There’s more than blood in that jar, Hecate,” he said. “I’m aware,” she said, turning to face him. “They are also dangerous, whether attached to his body or not.” Hades knew the dangers. God blood was also called ichor, and it was poisonous to mortals. If it managed to drop to the earth, it had the potential to create other divine creatures or even divine herbs. Really, the possibilities were endless and unknown. Testicles had the same power, though they often gave birth to gods or goddesses.

“What’s wrong?” Hecate asked. “Nothing,” he said and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Do not nothing me,” she said. “Tell me what happened just now in that little brain of yours.”

“Perhaps you should speak with Hypnos about Persephone.” Hades stiffened. “Hypnos is an asshole.” He was certainly not at all like his brother, Thanatos. “He is an asshole to you.” “He’s only nice to you because you bring him mushrooms,” Hades said. She crossed her arms and lifted her chin. “Do not critique my methods,” she said. “At least I manage to get what I want.” Hades’s brows furrowed. “What do you want from Hypnos?” “Use of the Oneiroi, of course,” she said. The Oneiroi were winged daimons who sometimes invaded dreams. If Hecate was asking for them, she was likely haunting a few unfortunate souls. Hades just used Hermes for that. “If you wish to help Persephone, then he is worth a visit,” she said. “But do not go without an offering.” Hades sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose hard. This was fucking ridiculous. Hypnos lived in his realm. That should be enough of an offering. “It would be if he actually liked it here,” Hecate said. That was not Hades’s fault. Hypnos was the one who agreed to help Hera put Zeus to sleep the last time she tried to overthrow him, which was how he ended up as a resident of the Underworld. “Do not be so difficult,” Hecate said. “Think of Persephone.” “I always think of Persephone.” “Then stop pouting and find the God of Sleep a gift.” Hades rolled his eyes and sighed. “Fine. I’ll get him a gods-damned gift.” Hecate smiled. “That’s a good boy.” Hades didn’t even honor her response with a glare and vanished.

“Are you hopeful it will have the desired effect and spur Aphrodite into a rage?” Theseus glanced out the window and then looked back at Hades. “I do not think I need her rage to prove the wrath of the gods. Your future mother-in-law is illustrating the point perfectly well.”

“Lola,” said Charon, extending his hand. “It is time.” “No!” Her father knelt and gathered her into his arms. “She doesn’t go alone. She can’t.” “She can,” said Charon. “It is you who cannot.” “We go together or not at all!” “What are you afraid of?” Persephone asked. The man held her gaze, almost comforted by her presence. “I left my wife and son behind.” “And do you not trust, after all that you have seen here, that you will see them again?” “But—” “Your wife will have comfort because you are here with Lola, and she will wait to be reunited with you both here in the Underworld. In Asphodel. Do you not wish to make a space for them? To welcome them when they come?” Her words sent chills down Hades’s spine. In all his years as God of the Underworld, he had never convinced a soul to enter Asphodel in this manner. It was kind, compassionate, and thoughtful. It was exactly why he loved her.

Today, Demeter had hurt his lover, his goddess, his future wife, and if she thought for a second he would not repay the favor with fury, she would soon learn.

He had asked her to do something in direct defiance of her mother, and while she was no stranger to such behavior, this was different. They were going to fuck in this temple, on scared ground. Demeter had ended lives for such behavior. But the fact was, she already had ended lives, and she deserved to witness this. She deserved the dishonor.

“Now, Hades! You promised.” He managed a laugh, but she did not realize how hard she made this. Her desperation spoke to his even as he struggled to take his time. “What did I promise, my darling?” he asked as he let his lips skim along her neck to her ear, but she jerked her head toward his, her mouth grazing his as he pulled back. “To fill me,” she said, her eyes on his lips. Then she met his gaze. “To fuck me.” “That was no promise,” he said, nestling the head of his cock against her heat. “It was a vow.”

“I have never asked you for anything in your life,” he said. Hypnos averted his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest as Hades continued. “But I come to you now because my future wife, my queen, is terrorized every time she closes her eyes, and all you care about is whether the reward is worthy of your time. Have you forgotten what it is like to watch the one you love suffer?” “At least you can witness her suffering,” Hypnos snapped. “I have not seen my wife since I was sentenced to this hell!” Hypnos’s wife was named Pasithea. She was one of the Charites, sometimes called Graces. She had been given to him in marriage by Hera, and while he had been lucky that he had not lost her completely, in the aftermath of his betrayal of Zeus, he was separated from her forever. “Perhaps that would have changed had you agreed to help me.” “You wish to shame me for refusing you, yet you dangle the promise of my wife before me as if that is not cruel.” “You had a chance at mercy,” Hades replied. Hypnos glared, but Hades had nothing more to say. He had not wanted to present the God of Sleep with a gift at all in exchange for his help, but that did not mean the one he’d chosen did not have great significance.

“Hello,” she said, though it sounded more like a question. She closed the door. “Am I…interrupting something?” Hypnos snorted. “Persephone, this is Hypnos, God of Sleep,” Hades said. “He is Thanatos’s brother. They are nothing alike.” Hypnos’s mouth tightened, and he narrowed his eyes. “She would have figured that out on her own. You didn’t have to tell her.” “I didn’t want her to have the false impression that you would be as kind.” “I am not unkind,” Hypnos said. “But I do not do well in the presence of idiots. You are not an idiot, are you, Lady Persephone?” Hades stiffened at the question. “N-no,” she said hesitantly, obviously caught off guard by Hypnos’s blunt questioning. Hades sighed, explaining, “I have asked Hypnos here so that he may help you sleep.” “I am sure she’s gathered that,” Hypnos said. “And you?” she asked him. “Did you tell him that you do not sleep?” Hypnos laughed again. “The God of the Dead admitting that he needs help? That is a pipe dream.” Hades glared at Hypnos but worked to bury his frustration as he turned his attention to Persephone. “This is about you,” he said, then turned back to Hypnos. “She hasn’t been sleeping, and when she does, she wakes from nightmares. Sometimes covered in sweat, sometimes screaming.” “It’s…nothing. They’re just nightmares.” “And you’re just a glorified gardener,” Hypnos replied. “Hypnos,” Hades warned. “No wonder you live outside the Gates of the Underworld,” Persephone muttered. The god’s brows rose and his lips ...

“Tell me of these nightmares,” said Hypnos. “I need details.” “Why must you hear about them? I told you she was having trouble sleeping. Is that not enough to create a draught?” “Enough, perhaps, but a draught will not solve the issue. I am older than you, my lord—a primordial deity, remember? Let me do my job.” They glared at one another before Hypnos returned his attention to Persephone. “Well? How often do you have them?” “Not every night,” she said. “Is there a pattern? Do they come after a particularly stressful day?” “I don’t think so. That is part of the reason I do not want to go to sleep. I’m not sure what I’ll find on the other side.” “These dreams…did they proceed something traumatic?” Persephone nodded. “What?” “I was kidnapped,” she said. “By a demigod. He was obsessed with me and…he wanted to rape me.” “Was he successful?” Persephone flinched, and Hades wanted to come undone. Black spires shot from the tips of his fingers. “Hypnos.” “Lord Hades,” Hypnos snapped. “One more interruption and I will leave your company.” “It’s all right, Hades. I know he is trying to help.” Hypnos smiled pleasantly. “Listen to the woman. She appreciates the art of dream interpretation.” “No, he was not successful, but when I dream, he seems to get closer and closer to…being successful.” Hades felt his chest tighten as she spoke. “Dreams—nightmares—prepare us to survive,” Hypnos said. “They bring our anxieties to life so we may fight them. You are no different, Goddess.” “But I sur...

“Why is there blood on your shirt?” Her eyes widened and she looked down at it. “Oh…I was practicing with Hecate,” she said. “Practicing what?” “Healing.” He frowned. “That is a lot of blood.” “Well…I couldn’t exactly heal if I wasn’t injured,” she said. Hades narrowed his eyes. “She is having you practice on yourself first?” “Yes…why is that wrong?” “You should be practicing on fucking…flowers. Not yourself. What did she have you do?” “Does it matter? I healed myself. I did it. Besides, I don’t have a lot of time. You know what happened to Adonis and saw what happened to Harmonia.” “You think I would let what happened to them happen to you?” “That is not what I’m saying. I want to be able to protect myself.” He could not help staring at the blood. She crossed her arms over her chest. “I swear I’m fine,” she said. “Kiss me if you think I’m lying.” “I believe you, but I will kiss you anyway,” he said and pressed his lips to hers softly, too anxious to kiss her the way he wished, especially after what she’d told Hypnos about her dreams. When he pulled away, she asked, “Why didn’t you tell me I had the ability to heal myself?” “I figured at some point Hecate would teach you,” he said. “Until then, it was my pleasure to heal you.”

“I would like a weekend,” she said at last. “Alone. With you.” “You are wagering for something I would gladly give—and have, many times.” “Not a weekend sequestered to your bedchamber,” she said, and Hades felt as defensive as she sounded. “A weekend…on an island or in the mountains or in a cabin. A…vacation.” He liked that. “You aren’t giving me a very good reason to win,” he joked. “And you? What do you wish for?” “A fantasy,” he said. “Fulfilled.” He did not hesitate because he had been thinking about this for a while. “A…fantasy?” Persephone asked, confused at first, so he clarified. “A sexual one.” “Of course,” she said breathlessly. “Can I ask what this sexual fantasy entails?” “No,” he said, though that was only because he hadn’t quite decided on which one he would ask her to explore…if she was willing. “Do you accept?” “I accept.” Her quick reply made his heart beat faster, and he was suddenly struggling with his blood rushing to his cock. He liked her eagerness but liked more that she trusted him enough to say yes.

“I’ve thought of you all day,” he said darkly. Her eyes gleamed as she pushed away from the tree, luring him deeper into the garden. He followed, eager for his prize. “The way you taste, the feel of my cock slipping inside you, the way you moan as I fuck you.” She turned toward him as she reached the garden wall, and he trapped her beneath him, leaning close. “I want to fuck you so hard, your screams reach the ears of the living,” he said, leaning over her. As he spoke, their lips brushed, then he felt Persephone’s tongue caress his mouth. “Why don’t you?” He growled low in his throat at her teasing, aware that he had asked for this torture. She gathered her magic, and he considered stopping her from teleporting, but he had not had enough of this yet. He wanted to see what she would do. Except he had not been prepared for her to arrive at the center of Asphodel, amid crowds and crowds of souls. By the time he arrived, the children had already swarmed, pulling on her hands and the end of her skirt.

“Surrender,” he whispered as he kissed up her neck. He could take her in this field among the asphodel, but as he met her gaze, she offered the faintest smile. “No,” she said in the headiest whisper. Then she was gone again, and he groaned in frustration as he followed, determined that wherever she ended up would be the place he took her—he didn’t care who watched. He could not maintain this any longer, and then he appeared before her as she sat on his throne, and he almost knelt at her feet. She was a fucking dream. “My queen,” he said and took a step toward her. “Halt!” He had not expected her command, so he obeyed despite the way it bristled through him. He watched her, breathing hard, frustrated beyond all reason. He wanted to defy her so badly, but he also wanted to see what she was capable of. “Undress.” His gaze was steady. “For someone who doesn’t like titles, you sure are commanding.” She lifted a brow. “Must I repeat myself?” He smirked, but as he began to call on his magic, she stopped him. “Not with magic. The mortal way. Slowly.” He swallowed hard and licked his lips. “As you wish.”

“I hate waiting for you,” she said. “Then find me,” he said. “You are busy.” “Dreaming about being inside you.” It was true—every minute of every day. She managed a breathy laugh. “I love that laugh,” he said, dragging his lips along her jaw and to her mouth. “I love you.” Hades pulled away and met her gaze, then he sat, holding her against him. “Say it again.” Her eyes softened and her fingers threaded through his hair. “I love you, Hades.” He grinned. He was so in love with her. “I love you,” he said as she moved against him harder and faster, meeting her movement with equal vigor. “You are perfection. You are my lover. You are my queen.” She came around him and he followed, and they collapsed against his throne, spent. “Why is this the first time I am hearing about your fantasies?” she asked as he kissed her head. He didn’t really know what to say. “How do I verbalize such a thing?” She held his gaze. “I suppose you just…tell me what you want. Is that not what you would want from me?” “Yes,” he said, intrigued by the thought of desires. “So tell me, what is your fantasy?” Her eyes widened and then her brows furrowed. “I…do not think I have one.” “You’ll forgive me if I do not believe you,” he said. “No, I won’t. It is in your nature to detect lies.” He chuckled. “But what will it take? To learn of your fantasies?” It took her a long moment to speak. He knew she had an answer; it was on the tip of her tongue, building tension between them. “One day…I want you.…to restrai...

“So,” Theseus said, looking over a plume of yellow flowers at the woman who sat across from him. “You wish to learn about Triad?” She had introduced herself as Cassandra, but he knew her real name was Helen. She was an aspiring journalist, a student at New Athens University, and she worked for Persephone Rossi. She was still unaware that he knew everything about her, still pretending to be interested in joining his organization, just as she had last week when she’d arrived at a rally. Normally, he would not indulge this behavior, but he was an opportunist and he saw her potential. He knew what she truly wanted. She was ambitious and constantly on the hunt for the pathway that would propel her to the top. She was no more interested in him than he was in her, beyond what they could do for each other, only at this point, she still believed she had the upper hand, that she would be solely responsible for breaking a story about the greatest threat to Olympian rule. He admired her confidence, but he hated her ignorance. She was holding a knife and fork, cutting into a steak she had ordered. Her movements were careful, graceful even—she was trying to impress him. She hadn’t yet.

“I don’t think you care what happens to the people of New Greece, but I think you need their worship.” His gaze did not waver from her face. “And what do you think of that?” he asked, his eyes darkening. “Everyone wants to be worshipped.” “Do you?” he asked. He was eager for her answer. He expected something generic—a comment along the lines of what woman doesn’t wish to be worshipped? Instead, she said, “I could be feared for all I care. I just want power.” There was a glint in her eyes he had not seen before, a darkness he wanted to prod.

“The gods withhold,” he said, his lips grazing her ear as he spoke. “We give. The gods hinder,” he said, hiking her skirt up. “We assist. The gods destroy,” he said, touching her between her legs. “We mend.” She moaned as his fingers slid through her heat. It was all he needed to know, that she was wet enough for his cock. He pushed her forward, pulling one hand behind her back. He let his hand smooth over her ass and then spanked her before kicking her feet apart and shoving inside her. “Yes, fuck!” She gasped and met him thrust for thrust, as if she yearned for something harder and darker. He twisted her hair around his hand and pulled. She cried out but followed his command, arching her back as he moved, keeping one hand planted on the rail. She did not move to kiss him, did not try to be anything more than a vessel, and when he felt his balls tighten and a rush surge up his cock, he pulled out, his come spraying across her ass and down the backs of her thighs. He restored his appearance as she turned to face him, her eyes darkened with lust. “I’ll write the story you wish to tell,” said Helen. “But I want a ride to the top.” “Your boss is the future wife of Hades,” he said. She raised a brow. “If Persephone will not agree to publish my story, I will go elsewhere.” He took a step closer, letting his thumb brush over her lips. He licked his own as he did. “Next time, I will come in this mouth,” he said and then took a step away. Before he left her, he paused. “Be sure yo...

“What’s wrong?” he asked, letting his hands fall to his sides. “I had Helen escorted off the property today,” she explained, her voice quaking. “I…” She paused, letting her gaze break from his. “She wanted to write an article about Triad, which I supported if she could find actual sources, but I guess in the process, they managed to bring her to their side.” “What do you mean?” “She met with me today and explained what she wanted to write about. She told me that Triad was…good. That they are like the gods, but they protect their people, as if we do not.” Hades was not surprised. He knew how Triad recruited members, and he knew their use of magic always seemed to override fate, so it was not surprising that they had managed to snare Helen in that web. “They can be very convincing,” Hades said. “It is unfortunate. Mortals who fall into their trap only see an isolated event—a moment of healing where these demigods have seemingly defied fate. They do not see the fallout.” “What is the fallout?” she asked. He shrugged. “It depends on the anger of the Fates, but usually, they face an end worse than the one that was chosen for them.” She was quiet for a moment. “I feel like this is my fault. If I’d never—” “You could not have known, Persephone,” Hades said. “If Helen was so easily swayed to join Triad, her loyalties were never very strong.” Persephone frowned. Hades touched her chin, tilting her head back so she would meet his gaze. “She threatened you,” she said. Her fists clenc...

“I cannot promise we will not have war a thousand times over during our lifetime, but I will promise that I will never leave you willingly.” “Can you promise to never leave at all?” He gave her a soft smile. It was all he could really offer, because in the back of his mind, he was imagining that burning battlefield and his corpse among the flames. He held her gaze, and when she started to frown, he kissed her, pulling her against him.

“Why are you sitting?” Ivy asked. “I’m working,” he gritted out, though to be fair, he never used this desk. He never used this office. This was the most he had been here in years, and it had everything to do with his newest tenant, who was currently positioned between his legs. “There’s nothing on your desk,” Ivy observed. “It’s…coming,” he said with less control than he wanted, but there was a pressure building on the base of his cock, and it was pulsing.