A Touch of Darkness (Hades & Persephone, #1)

by Scarlett St. Clair

“You are two things to gods,” she’d told Persephone when she was very young. “A power play or a plaything.” “Surely you are wrong, Mother. Gods love. There are several who are married.” Demeter had laughed. “Gods marry for power, my flower.”

The God of the Dead represented everything she wasn’t—something dark and tempting.

Persephone might be the daughter of Demeter and the Goddess of Spring, but she couldn’t grow a damn thing.

He was sin incarnate.

He smirked, and she could feel it deep in her gut. “Darling, I win either way.”

She’d allowed Hades, the God of the Underworld, to instruct her, touch her, play her, and question her. And he had won. But that wasn’t the worst part. No, the worst part was that there was a side of her—a side she’d never known existed until tonight—that wanted to run back inside, find him, and demand a lesson in the anatomy of his body.

It was one thing to find the God of the Dead attractive and another thing to…desire him.

“There’s power in truth.

If he hurts you again, I will have to kill him, and it’s hard to find a good ogre.”

It felt intimate to describe Hades, and part of her wanted to keep him all to herself, though she was well aware she was only describing a toned-down version of the god. She had yet to see him in his true form.

“He’s handsome,” she said, though even that word didn’t do him justice. It wasn’t just his looks; it was his presence. “He’s…power.”

“They say Hades is protective of his realm, and while that is true, it isn’t about power. He cares for his people, protects them, and he takes it personally if anyone is harmed. If you belong to him, he will tear the world apart to save you.” She shivered. “But I don’t belong to him.” Ilias smiled. “Yes, you do, or I wouldn’t be serving you wine in his office.”

“Hmm. I think you are the Goddess of Sexual Frustration.” Persephone barked laughter. “I think that’s Aphrodite.” “Did I say sexual frustration? I meant Hades’s sexual frustration.”

“I’m not giving you orders,” he said. “I am asking.” “Asking implies there’s a choice.”

This time, it was Hades’s magic that clung to her skin, unfamiliar but not unpleasant, lingering on her tongue, smooth and rich like his kiss.

“Addiction is a disease. It cannot be cured. It must be managed.”

“Love is a selfish reason to bring the dead back.”

If this is the god we are presented with in our life, what god will we meet upon our death? What hopes can we have of a happy afterlife?

“Curiosity is a dangerous quality, my lady.”

“You asked that I not leave when I’m angry, and I’m asking you not to send me away when you’re angry.” He dropped his hand. “I am not angry.” “Then why did you drop me in the Underworld earlier?” she asked. “Why send me away at all?” “I needed to speak with Hermes,” he said. “And you couldn’t say that?” He hesitated. “Don’t request things of me you cannot deliver yourself, Hades.”

She wondered how Hades would choose to torture her. He’ll probably refuse to kiss you, she thought and rolled her eyes at herself.

“What are you afraid of, Persephone?” Persephone closed her eyes against that question. Lexa wouldn’t understand. It didn’t matter if she liked Hades or not, if she found him attractive or not, if she wanted him or not. He was not for her. He was forbidden.

She had chosen it to spite Hades. It was silly. She’d wanted to look like power, like temptation, like sin—all for him. She wanted to dangle herself in front of him and then draw back at the last moment when he was close enough to taste her. She wanted him to want her.

“I’m not yours and I’m not your darling.” “We’ve been through this, haven’t we? You are mine. I think you know that just as well as I do.” She folded her arms over her chest. “Have you ever thought that maybe you’re mine instead?” His lips twitched and his eyes fell to her wrist. “It is my mark upon your skin.”

“You will worship me,” she said and rolled her hips against him. His hands dug into her skin, and she moved in, her cheek brushing his as she whispered. “And I won’t even have to order you.”

“I’m…sorry.” She wasn’t sure what to say, but his distress seemed so great, she thought she might ease it with an apology. She only made it worse. “Don’t you dare apologize.” He cupped her face. “Not for him. Never for him.”

“Living here is no different than living up there,” Hecate added. “You challenged Hades to help mortals lead a better existence. He has merely charged you with the same here in the Underworld.”

“Do you know what? I don’t know what such a powerful god sees in you. You are entitled and magicless and yet he continues to let you into our realm—” “Trust me, nymph. It’s not a choice.” “Isn’t it? Isn’t it a choice every time you let him put his hands on you? Every time he kisses you? I know Lord Hades, and if you asked him to stop, he would—but you don’t. You never do.”

Hades loves nothing but a good bargain, and you, my young goddess, are the worst wager he’s ever made.”

Hades was now toe to toe with her, looking down, eyes like coals. “I know you.” He trailed his fingers over her collarbone and moved so that he was behind her. “I know the way your breath hitches when I touch you. I know how your skin flushes when you’re thinking about me. I know there is something beneath this pretty facade.”

“Let me show you what it is to hold power in your hands,” he said. “Let me coax the darkness from you—I will help you shape it.” Yes, she thought. Yes.

“I can taste lies, Persephone. And yours are as sweet as your skin.”

“You might believe this was a mistake,” he said, and she paused but didn’t turn to look at him. “But you want me. I was inside you. I tasted you. That is a truth you will never escape.”

He’s here. The feeling tore through her, straightening her spine. She could feel him, taste his magic. Then her eyes found what they sought, and the room was suddenly too hot.

knew great things would come of your union,” Sybil said. “Our…union?” Persephone echoed slowly. “You and Hades.” “Oh, we’re not together—” “Perhaps not yet. But your colors, they’re all tangled up. They have been since the night I met you.” “Colors?” “Your paths,” Sybil said. “You and Hades—it was destiny, woven by the Fates.”

“So you are Hades’s little muse?”

“Excuse me.” She tried to step around Aphrodite, but the goddess stopped her. “But I am not finished speaking.” “You misunderstand. I don’t want to speak to you.”

She felt him lean closer. She was surprised when his fingers brushed along her shoulder, tracing the edge of the black appliqué. Now and then, he touched skin to skin, and she shivered. “A touch of darkness.”

For a moment, Hades’s eyes darkened, and then Persephone said, “Drop your glamour.” He looked at her curiously. She shrugged a shoulder. “You want to fuck me with this crown. I want to fuck a god.” His smirk was devilish, and he answered, “As you wish.”

“Tell me you lied,” he said. “I thought words meant nothing.” He gave her a bruising kiss, and his touch lifted heat from her skin, searing a path everywhere he went. “Your words matter,” he said. “Only yours.”

Then he thrust into her hard. “I have thought about you every night since.” Thrust. “And each time you said you didn’t want me, I tasted your lies.” Thrust. “You are mine.” Thrust. “Mine.”

Before she fell asleep again, she had the fleeting thought that, if this was her fate, she would gladly claim it.

Hades had made her feel powerful. He had made her feel like the goddess she was supposed to be—and she had enjoyed every bit of it.

“I could spend all day kissing you.” “No one’s stopping you,” she said, surprised by the words that came out of her mouth. Where was this boldness coming from?

The shadow of death is often a comfort to the dying.”

So Hades regretted his past and therefore refused to celebrate his present? That was ridiculous and damaging. Maybe the reason he never tried to change what others thought of him was because he believed all the things people said. He probably believed her, which was why her words were so important to him.

“Yes, but…he created the Halcyon Project just for you.” “It isn’t for me.” Persephone pushed past the girl. “It’s for mortals in need.” “Still, don’t you think that’s romantic?” Persephone paused and turned to face the girl. “He listened. There’s nothing romantic about that.” The girl blinked, confused. Persephone explained, “I’m not interested in romanticizing Hades for doing something all men should be doing.”

Respect could build an empire. Trust could make it unbreakable. Love could make it last forever.

“Do you regret sleeping with Hades? Forget your mother and the contract—do you regret it?” “No. I could never regret him.”

“I think, perhaps, the God of the Dead has created life within you.”