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CHAPTER V
HADES
Hades lay awake staring at the ceiling. Persephone was asleep beside him, her head resting just under his arm, her hand flat on his chest. He could feel the weight of her engagement ring against his skin. The metal was cool compared to the warmth of her hand. He wondered if she had grown used to the feel of it on her finger, or was it still new?
He could not wait to wear a ring for her.
And he immediately felt like an idiot for having that thought, no matter how it rang true.
A soft knock drew his attention to the door. Normally, he would instruct whoever was on the other side to enter, but the last thing he wanted to do was disturb Persephone’s sleep.
“Fuck,” he muttered and glanced at the clock.
It was almost three in the morning.
Something was wrong.
He took a deep breath and then held it as hedisentangled himself from her, hoping she was tired enough to remain asleep. She stirred only slightly as he slipped from her hold but settled quickly. Relieved, he crossed to the door and answered.
“What is it?” he whispered vehemently.
Ilias stood on the other side of the door.
“My Lord, we have a murder,” he said.
Hades’s brows lowered. “The ophiotaurus?”
It was the first thing that came to mind, considering they expected more deaths to come until the monster was captured.
The satyr shook his head. “This is something else entirely.”
Fan-fucking-tastic, Hades thought.
“I’ll be a moment,” he said and started to close the door.
“Hades,” Ilias said, and the god met his gaze. “It’s Adonis.”
That was thelastthing he expected to hear.
Adonis was most famous for being Aphrodite’s favored. Or, if one wished to be less formal, her fuck boy.
But Hades knew him for a different reason. He’d watched as the mortal forced himself on Persephone in the darkness of Aphrodite’s club, La Rose. Later, Hades had gone to Aphrodite to threaten the mortal.
“Nothing,” he’d said, “will keep me from shredding Adonis’s soul.”
Since that night, Hades had heard nothing from or about the mortal, so he assumed his threat had been communicated.
Now, it seemed, he was dead.
Well, fuck.
“A moment,” Hades said again, and he closed the door.
He sighed and then turned and approached the bed where Persephone slept soundlessly. He watched her for a few seconds—the fluttering of her dark lashes on her cheek, the part of her pink lips, the soft rise and fall of her chest. He bent and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
“I love you,” he whispered.
She did not wake, only took a deeper breath and buried her face in the silk sheet she kept bunched near her face.
