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She smiled wryly. “My mother.”
He raised a brow. “Why?”
“You’ll have to win another hand if I’m going to answer.”
So, he dealt another and won again. This time, he didn’t ask the question, just looked at her expectantly.
She sighed. “Because...she made me mad.”
He stared at her, waiting, and she smiled. “You never said the answer had to be detailed.”
His grin matched hers. “Noted for the future, I assure you.”
“The future?”
“Well, I hope this isn’t the last time we’ll play poker.”
Butterflies erupted in her stomach. She should tell him this was the first and final time she would come to Nevernight.
He dealt again and won. Persephone was getting tired of losing and answering this man’s questions. Why was he so interested in her anyway? Where was that woman he’d been with earlier?
“Why are you angry with your mother?”
She considered this question for a moment, and then said, “Because...she wants me to be something I cannot.” Persephone dropped her gaze to the cards. “I don’t understand why people do this.”
He tilted his head, as if questioning. “You are not enjoying our game?”
“I am,” she said. “But...I don’t understand why people play Hades. Why do they want to sell their soul to him?”
“They don’t agree to a game because they want to sell their soul,” he said. “They do it because they think they can win.”
“Do they? Win?”
“Sometimes.”
“Does that anger him, you think?” The question was meant to remain a thought in her head, and yet the words slipped out between her lips.
He smirked, and she could feel it deep in her gut.
“Darling, I win either way.”
Her eyes went wide, and her heart stuttered. She stood quickly and his name slipped out of her mouth like a curse.
“Hades.”
His name on her lips seemed to have an effect on him, but she couldn’t tell if it was good or bad—his eyes darkened, and his smile lines melted into a hard, unreadable mask.
“I have to go.”
She spun and left the small room. This time, she didn’t let him stop her. She hurried down the winding steps and plunged into the mass of bodies on the main floor. All the while, she was highly aware of the spot on her wrist where Hades fingers had touched her skin. Was it an exaggeration to say it burned?
It took her a while to find the exit, and when she did, she pushed through the doors. Outside, she took a few deep breaths and then let the force of what she’d done hit her.
She’d allowed Hades, the God of the Underworld, to instruct her, to touch her, to play her, and question her.
And he had won.
But that wasn’t the worst part.
