AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“What’s wrong?” he demanded.
“I fell on the stairs. I think I…” she took a breath and winced. “I think I bruised my ribs.”
When she met his gaze, she was surprised to see he looked worried. She recalled Ilias’ words from earlier—he takes it personally if anyone is harmed in his realm.
“It’s okay,” she whispered. “I’m okay.”
Then Hermes said, “She has a pretty nasty gash on her shoulder, too.” And the worry she’d seen burned away with his anger. His jaw tightened, and he lifted Persephone into his arms, careful not to jar her.
“Where are we going?”
“To my palace,” he said, and teleported.
CHAPTER VII – A TOUCH OF FAVOR
“Can you sit?” Hades asked.
She opened her eyes to find the King of the Underworld staring down at her. She’d closed her eyes when they teleported because it usually made her dizzy.
She nodded, and Hades lowered her to the ground and helped her sit. It was then she realized she was on a bed—a bed covered in black silk sheets. She looked around, discovering he’d brought her to a bedroom. It reminded her of Nevernight with its shiny obsidian walls and floor, and despite all the black, the room somehow seemed cozy. Perhaps it had to do with the roaring hearth opposite the bed, the fur rug at her feet, or maybe the wall of French doors that led to a balcony overlooking a forest of deep green trees.
Hades kneeled on the ground before her, and she felt a little panicked.
“What are you doing?”
He said nothing as he pulled Hermes cloak from her body. She hadn’t been prepared or she would have fought for it. Instead, she stilled, exposed under Hades gaze. He sat back on his heels as his eyes travelled over her body. They lingered longest on her torn shoulder, catching in all the places her silver dress clung. She drew an arm over her chest, trying to maintain some modesty and then Hades came up onto his knees, bracing his arms on either side of her. From this angle, his face was level with hers. She felt his breath on her lips when he spoke. It smelled of whisky.
“Which side?” he asked.
She kept his gaze a moment before reaching for his hand and pressing it to her side. She was surprised by her boldness but rewarded with his touch. It was warm and healing. She moaned and leaned into him. If anyone entered his room at this point, they might think he was listening to her heart with the way he was positioned—pressed between her legs, head turned away.
She took a few deep breaths until she no longer felt the ache of her bruised ribs. After a moment, he turned toward her, but did not pull away.
“Better?”
His voice was low, a husky whisper that trailed over her skin. She resisted the urge to shiver.
“Yes.”
“Your shoulder is next,” he said, standing.
She started to turn her head to get a glimpse at the wound, but Hades stopped her with a hand on her cheek.
“No,” he said. “It’s best if you don’t look.”
He turned from her then and stepped into an adjacent room. She heard the sound of running water. While she waited for him to return, she rested on her side, eager to close her tired eyes.
“Wake, my darling.” Hades’ voice was like his touch—warm, luring. He kneeled before her again, blurry at first, and then coming into sharp focus.
“Sorry,” she whispered.
“Do not apologize,” he said, and started to clean the blood from her shoulder.
“I can do this,” she said, and started to rise, but Hades held her in place and met her gaze.
“Allow me this,” he said. There was something…raw and primal in his eyes she knew she couldn’t argue with, so she nodded.
His touch was gentle, and she closed her eyes. So he would know she wasn’t asleep, she asked questions.
