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“You make it too easy,” the gorgon replied.“Lay off the cologne.”
Hades chuckled, pressed a hand to the gorgon’s shoulder, and entered the lounge.
The environment here was far more subdue, a mix of mortals and ancient creatures chatting and drinking and playing. Some were relaxed, others on edge, fidgeting as they waited to be summoned to one of the suites in the shadows, ready to bargain for their deepest desires no matter the consequences. Hades wandered among them, assessing and searching, attempting to choose his first contract of the night, when he rounded one of the gaming tables and halted, glimpsing a familiar pink dress and silken hair.
She was a siren, luring him with her scent, her beauty, her very presence.
He should turn around, meld with the darkness, and pretend he never laid eyes upon her, but watching her profile made his chest ache, and there was a part of him that resented the feeling. He had never wanted the Fates to have control over his love life, and yet, it was inevitable.
I could have control, he told himself.Use this to my advantage to fulfill my bargain with Aphrodite.
Hades did not often feel guilty, but that thought made his chest sick and heavy.
Make someone fall in love with you.
The bargain was callous and unfair, but Hades wanted to win.
Fucking Fates.
Shoving aside his tumultuous thoughts, he approached her.
“Do you play?” he asked.
She turned to him, and his breath caught in his throat as he was again, stuck by her beauty. Her eyes were wide and fringed with dark lashes. A dust of freckles kissed the tip of her nose and the apples of her cheeks, fading beneath a flush that colored her creamy skin.
Hades took a sip from his glass to wet his throat, but the movement drew her attention to his mouth, and he repressed a groan as he wondered if she tasted like she smelled—sweet, honeyed, forbidden.
After a moment, she smiled, a playful glint in her gaze.“I’m willing to play if you’re willing to teach.”
You wouldn’t say that if you knew who I was, he thought, taking another drink.
Anyone who entered into a game with him was bound to the rules of Nevernight—a loss meant a contract.
You are a bastard, he told himself as he approached the table and sat beside her. The movement stirred the air, and her scent continued to invade his mind. There was something else in the atmosphere—an electricity that made his heart race and the hair on his arms and neck stand on end.
“It’s brave to sit down at a table without knowing the game,” he said.
He thought that she might have sensed the warning in his tone, because she arched a brow at him and asked,“How else would I learn?”
“Hmm.”
She was right, though Hades would not advise running before learning to walk, especially when it came to bargains with him. Still, her response illustrated her cunning and willingness to try new things, and he found that insanely attractive.
“Clever.”
Now that he was close to her, he could not stop staring. He wanted to know why she smelled like wildflowers. What was her connection to Demeter? It felt intrusive and wrong to strip away the barriers that barred her soul from his eyes, but he would be lying if he said he did not want to know who she was beneath that perfect exterior.
She quivered, her lithe shoulders shaking. Was she cold or uncomfortable?
“I have never seen you before,” he finally said, hoping that explained his stare.
“Well, I have never been here before,” she replied, and then narrowed her eyes.“You must come here often.”
He smirked at the tone of her voice, tinged with suspicion.
“I do.”
“Why?” She sounded curious rather than disgusted, then blushed and tried to recover by adding,“I mean—you don’t have to answer that.”
