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He narrowed his eyes, and a thrill shot through him at the challenge.“What? Undress you? Happily, and with far more enthusiasm than you realize, my lady.”
She used her remaining energy to glare at him before her shoulders fell.
“Fine.”
While she changed, Hades poured himself a glass of whiskey, managing to take a sip before she stepped out from behind the partition. He almost choked on his drink. He had thought the silver dress she’d been wearing left little to the imagination, but he was wrong. The robe accentuated her small waist, the flare of her hips, and her shapely legs.Giving her that scrap of fabric was a mistake, he thought as he approached and took her wet dress, hanging it over the screen.
“What now?” she asked.
For a moment, he wondered if she could sense his sinful thoughts.
“You rest.”
He lifted her into his arms, expecting her to protest, but he was relieved when she didn’t. He would not be able to explain why he needed this closeness, didn’t fully understand it himself, he just wanted to touch her, to know that she was full of life and heat.
He lowered her to the bed and pulled the blankets over her. She looked pale and fragile, lost in a sea of black silk.
“Thank you,” she said quietly, looking up at him with heavy lids. She frowned and touched the space between his brows with her finger, tracing his cheek, ending at the corner of his lips.“You’re angry.”
It took everything inside him to remain where he was, to not lean into her touch, to not press his lips to hers.If he kissed her, he would not stop.
After a moment, her hand fell away, and she closed her eyes.
“Persephone,” she said.
“What?”
“I want to be called Persephone. Notlady.”
Another faint smile touched his lips. Lady was a title she would have to get used to; he had ordered his staff to address her as such.
“Rest,” he said instead.“I will be here when you wake.”
He sensed her breath evening, and when he was sure she was asleep, he teleported back to the Styx, appearing on the bank of the river. His magic flared, a combination of the anger and lust and fear.
“Bring me those who smell of Persephone’s blood!” he commanded, and as he lifted his arms, four of the dead burst forth from the Styx, the water rushing after them like the tail of a comet. The corpses shrieked, sounding and appearing more like monsters than the bodies of once flesh-and-blood mortals.“You have tasted the blood of my queen and therefore shall cease existing.”
As he closed his fists, the wailing increased to an almost impossible shrill, and the corpses turned to dust that was swept away into the mountains of Tartarus.
In the aftermath, Hades’ ears rang and his breathing was harsh, but the release was euphoric.
Behind him, he heard Hermes’ familiar chuckle. He whirled to face the God of Mischief.
“I knew you would return,” he said. He nodded toward the mountains of Tartarus.“Feeling better?”
“No. Why are you still here?”
“So rude. You have yet to thank me for saving your…what should we call her? Lover?”
“She is not my lover,” Hades snapped.
Hermes was unamused, raising a pale brow.
“So you just threw me halfway across your realm for nothing?”
“It’s a sport,” he replied.
“Have your fun, and I’ll have mine.”
