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I shivered from the coldness of his voice, the truth in it. I was in the arms of a killer. He hadn’t hidden that from me, not once. He’d expected me to recoil, to banish him from my life. I’d expected it too. But I only held him tighter.
“I want you, Freya. More than I’ve wanted anything in my fuckin’ life. I can’t bring myself to leave you. But I’m not going to stay with you, pretendin’ that I’m something I’m not. I’m a monster. I know it. My brothers know it. There’s a reason I wear the patch I do. Because I do things even the worst of them couldn’t stomach.”
Hades was still gently drawing circles on my back. I was still tucked into his side. Warm. Safe. Satisfied.
“I don’t care.” I craned my neck to look into his eyes as I spoke, wanting him to feel the truth in my words. “I don’t care about what your patch means or what you have to do because of it. That you think yourself to be some kind of monster—”
“I am a monster,” he interrupted.
I gritted my teeth. Fucking alpha males.
“Fine, okay, you’re a monster,” I conceded with a pout. “But you’re my monster, Hades. Monsters need to be loved too.” I took a breath then repositioned my body so I could meet his eyes. “I love you, Hades. With blood on your hands, with death on your soul, with demons in your eyes, I love you.” My voice was barely a whisper, but the words came out heavy.
Hades’s face changed completely, contorting from what I assumed was shock. I wasn’t sure why he was surprised since I’d done a terrible job at hiding what I felt for him. Hades was shrewd, he could read my tiniest subtleties. He had to have known.
But maybe he hadn’t, maybe the hatred he’d felt for himself made him blind to the love anybody else felt for him.
He wasn’t going to say it back, I’d known that. I had expected his silence. To stop it from smothering us, I pressed my lips to his and climbed on top of him. He kissed me back immediately, with all of the words he couldn’t say, with everything he felt but was still trying to fight.
He then fucked me with passion, with need.
With love.
THREE WEEKS LATER
When I got the call, I was unloading groceries from my car. A lot of groceries. Even considering my standards. Surpassing PMS groceries or movie marathon groceries. The weight of them in my arms was overpowering enough that my biceps burned. Regardless, my heart warmed.
Expanded.
They were groceries for two people. For us. We were an us, Hades and me. The fighting had stopped. Against ourselves, against each other. We had both accepted that this was a battle neither of us could win, and we just ... settled in.
Although I wasn’t in danger anymore, Hades was still here. Every night.
It should’ve freaked me out, that we had only just technically started dating and he was already living with me. He had been living with me before we’d started dating. That was not normal. Not even a little. Nor was it healthy. Or the way regular relationships progressed. But I was not one to live a ‘regular’ life. Nor was Hades.
So, whatever.
Sure, I was freaked-out, but not by our situation. I was freaked out by my feelings for Hades, that I could feel him under my skin in a very permanent way.
That’s what I was thinking about as I carried the groceries into the house, grinning stupidly. My phone had been ringing while I carried them, and I somehow managed to get it to the crook of my shoulder to balance it against my ear, balance two very heavy, reusable grocery bags in my elbow and kick my car door shut with my foot by the time I answered.
When I heard the words on the other end of the phone, I froze, a dull roar invading my ears. I must’ve spoken. Or at least, I think I did because I ended the call before my phone dropped with a clatter to the concrete.
Sinking down on the ground in the middle of my driveway seemed a little dramatic and something a heroine did in a movie rather than something a regular person did in real life, but I couldn’t help myself. I wasn’t in control of my limbs. I just kind of ... fell to the ground. The shopping bags tumbled from my hands, rogue oranges and apples rolling lazily down my driveway. I snatched a bottle of wine before it could go too far, thankful for the cool, solid glass around my fingertips.
I was especially thankful it had a screw top otherwise I might’ve really damaged my nails, trying to pry the top off. As it was, it came off without much effort, and I started drinking. Wishing the liquid sliding down my throat could change things.
