Page 68 of Hades

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!”

She fell to her knees beside the dog. Her hands slid over his body, searching for wounds. The sight of her on her knees made my cock throb, made my blood pound harder, made me want to drag her inside and fuck her until she understood exactly who she belonged to.

“I didn’t fucking shoot him. I’m not a goddamn monster.”

She turned an icy glare my way and growled, “You threatened to do it yesterday.”

“Yesterday I was amused. Today I’m pissed.” My voice came out rougher than I intended. Darker. The words scraped out of my throat like gravel. “Why the fuck did you leave?”

She pushed herself off the ground and walked away, tapping her hand against her thigh, commanding Cerberus to follow. As I watched her ass swing while she disappeared around the back of the house, I knew I was no better than the fucking dog. I followed right behind her without a damn word.

Pathetic. I was fucking pathetic for this woman. But I didn’t care. Not when every cell in my body screamed at me to claim her. To mark her. To make her understand that she was mine and I wasn’t letting her go.

She wasn’t on the porch. I searched the yard and found her in one of the flower gardens, so fucking beautiful in the golden light of dusk. It kissed her skin, making her look like an angel. Soft and pure and everything I wasn’t. Everything I didn’t deserve but would take anyway because I was a selfish bastard who couldn’t let her go.

The light to my dark.

I sat on the porch steps and watched her work. She moved gracefully up and down the aisles, pulling weeds as she went. Her movements were fluid, practiced, like she’d done this a thousand times before. Did she choose this time because the temperature dropped a few degrees in the evening, or because her anger at me needed somewhere to go?

My eyes tracked every movement. The way her hips swayed. The way her hair caught the fading light. The way her hands moved through the plants with such gentle care. She was a nurturer. A caretaker. Someone who grew beautiful things and tended them with patience and love.

And I was going to corrupt every inch of her.

Every few tugs she lifted her head and met my eyes. My smile made her frown deeper, but it didn’t stop her from looking. Good. She couldn’t ignore me. Couldn’t pretend I didn’t exist. Couldn’t act like what was between us was nothing.

The sky deepened into darkness, and still Lettie strolled through her gardens as if it were early morning. As if she could see in the dark. I learned something about her as she walked along the rows she’d planted: she was comfortable in the dark. She lived in it as easily as she lived in the light.

Just like me.

The realization settled in my chest like a stone. Heavy. Solid. Real. She wasn’t afraid of darkness. Wasn’t intimidated by it. She moved through it like she belonged there, and fuck if that didn’t make me want her even more.

When she made her way toward the house, I stood and waited for her to come closer. Cerberus watched me with curious eyes. I wasn’t foolish enough to think we’d come to a truce, but at least he wasn’t lunging at me anymore. His low growl grew louder as they approached.

“Lettie.”

She walked past me, up the stairs and into the house. I dropped my chin and smiled. She was making me work for it. Making me prove I was serious. Making me show her I wasn’t going anywhere. I followed, and when the screen door opened at my tug, my smile widened.

She’d left it unlocked for me.

I found her at the sink, filling a kettle with water. Two cups sat on the counter, each holding a tea bag and sugar, waiting for hot water to steep the flavor. The domesticity of it made something twist in my chest. Something warm and dangerous and possessive.

Coffee and beer were my usual, but if Lettie wanted me to drink tea with her, I’d drink the fucking tea. I’d drink battery acid if it meant staying in her presence. I pulled out a chair and sat down.

“Can we talk about what happened?” I asked as the kettle whistled.

Lettie ignored me as she poured the boiling water into the cups with her back to me, then set one down in front of me on the table. I’d expected her to sit with me, but instead, she leaned against the counter. The distance between us felt deliberate. Calculated. Punishment for my fuckup at the clubhouse.

I knew I’d fucked up at the clubhouse. It wasn’t that I’d forgotten she was coming to the party. I just hadn’t realized Echo was there. The fucking whores were always touching us, trying to seduce us into fucking them. That was why they came. They wanted a patch, and the VP patch was almost as good as the president’s.

But that excuse sounded weak even in my own head. I should have pushed Echo off the moment Lettie walked in. Should have made it clear who I belonged to. Should have protected what was mine instead of letting some club whore disrespect my queen.

“Well?” I asked, mimicking her movements as I plunged the tea bag into the hot water, watching the clear liquid turn a muddy brown.

“Drink your tea, Brock,” she said, taking a sip of hers.

My hand wrapped around the cup, and I stared at the contents. It had an earthy scent. I guessed that was what the sugar was for. I peeked up at Lettie and found her watching me closely. Her eyes were dark. Intense. Something flickered in their depths that I couldn’t quite read.

I took a cautious sip and let the flavor sit on my tongue. Sweet and tangy at the same time. All in all, pleasant enough to choke down. The warmth spread through my chest, settling low in my belly.