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.”

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

“And a woman at that,” Hades added unhappily. “I will deal with you later.

he hadn’t defended her because she was a goddess, he’d defended her because she was a woman.

“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.”

“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.”

“Oh, darling. You don’t know what I’m capable of.”

She wondered idly if there was a kiss for that.

“I do not wish for you to leave and be angry with me.”

“I knew you were here because I could feel you.”

“I will erase the memory of him from your skin.”

“A touch of darkness.” His fingers tracked down her arm and threaded through hers. “Dance with me.”

“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.”

“I don’t think I could handle your regret.”

“He listened. There’s nothing romantic about that.”

“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.

“Let me worship you,” he said.

“You’re saying that”—Hades pointed to the mint plant—“is my assistant?” “Yes.” He didn’t look at the plant but at her. “And why is my assistant a plant, Persephone?” “Because”—She averted her eyes and admitted—“She upset me.”

“I have waited lifetimes for you,” he said as if it was an oath he was swearing upon every star in the sky, every drop of water in the ocean, every soul in the entire universe. “I know it.”

I am going to have to stop breaking things when she gets here, he thought, and then scolded himself for sounding so…hopeful.