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“What have you brought, Cere? You know playing with your food is against the rules.”
The speaker could only be the god Hades himself, Ere surmised as he stared unblinkingly at the imposing, pale, black-haired, grave-faced man sitting on a fur-covered throne that was carved directly into the floor of the cavern from solid rock.
Beside him, Ere felt Sorin stiffen.
He wouldn’t have noticed the minute tightening of his Mate’s body had he not been so in tune with everything about the male. Ere slid a sideways glance at Sorin just in time to see a muscle tick in the warrior’s jaw.
Did Sorin recognize Hades? Did heknowthe god?
But Hades didn’t acknowledge any of his “visitors,” at least not yet. He focused all of his attention on “Cere” and his hound’s new toy.
The gigantic three-headed beast approached the foot of Hades’ elevated throne and set Chewie down between its front paws. It dwarfed the Tibetan Mastiff by three or four times. The lion-dog, usually intimidating in his own right, looked like a teacup Pomeranian next to a Great Dane.
Hades regarded Chewie for long moments, his stoic expression giving nothing away, while the pup panted at him and drooled happily away.
Normally, Ere would have jumped in to break the awkward silence with a rambling introduction by now. But, somehow, he knew to keep his own counsel for the time being.
He could tell that the god of the Underworld was thinking through some options. It wasn’t every day that Cerberus allowed so many strangers to invade their domain. The fact that Hades called them “food” didn’t reassure Ere in the least.
“Come,” the god murmured with a simple crook of his hand, his eyes still on Chewie.
The pup didn’t hesitate to pad forward and bound up the stone steps to Hades’ throne, his claws clicking, fluffy tail wagging.
“Up.”
Chewie seemed to know exactly what the god wanted, for he leaped onto the throne, half sitting beside Hades, half on top of his lap. His tail wagged harder, and he boldly leaned forward to lap his tongue all over Hades’ face, whimpering eagerly in this throat.
The god’s stony expression didn’t so much as flicker under Chewie’s sloppy affection. He endured the doggy kisses as if it was his due, the way a king endured the prostration of a supplicant. But Ere saw the subtle movement of fingers in Chewie’s fur.
The godlikedthe overgrown pup.
“Enough,” Hades uttered quietly, and immediately, Chewie stilled, though he maintained his perch on the throne beside the god and lowered his head onto his front paws over Hades’ lap.
Cerberus padded to the side of the throne, sitting down on its haunches like a sentinel. Two of its heads speared the intruders with menacing red eyes, and the remaining head stared at Chewie and Hades almost approvingly.
Finally, Hades’ eyes swept over Ere, Divina and Sorin.
Assessing.
“To what do I owe the pleasure of this unexpected visit?” the god finally intoned, his voice low and quiet.
Both threatening and lulling. Like the warning growl of a dangerous predator.
Ere opened his mouth, but Divina beat him to the punch, stepping forward to blurt, “I want my Andros’ soul back. Where is he?”
Hades flicked her a glance but didn’t respond. He looked at Ere instead.
“A centaur’s soul is not all you have come for, is it, black dragon?”
Ere braced himself before he spoke, donning a mask of nonchalance and calm he didn’t feel.
“No indeed, Lord Hades,” he replied smoothly. “We have also come in search of a magical lyre. Orpheus had left it here, I hear. We seek your permission to retrieve both.”
He bowed his head slightly in deference to the god, while Divina continued to stare and glare.
“And what do you propose to exchange for these items in return?” Hades murmured, his tone cold, his words unfeeling.
Ere did not miss the fact that he categorized Andros’ soul in the same bucket as an inanimate object.
