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His eyebrows rise sharply. My face is furiously red.
“Does it... not work like that?” I ask. “I mean it does on TV. And in books. Emotional connection... curse breaking. It makes sense, right?”
No, no, he’s definitely staring at me like I’ve gone insane.
“I am fairly certain that if it were a simple matter of me bedding a human, I would have known, and attempted, that already,” he says quietly. “You are not the first, but no, that’s... not how it works.”
Huh.
Maybe love does not conquer all.
With a sigh, I let my head rest against his chest, and he holds me gently. His hand cups the back of my head, and I let my eyes slide shut.
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs.
“It’s fine,” I say, my tone flat. But his body is so warm against mine. I’m waffling. I feel it.
“It’s not,” he insists, because he’s too smart for his own good.
“It’s not,” I agree.
“Can you ever forgive me?” I have to think about that one. The silence of the club is getting to me. I let out a sigh.
“Only if you promise to never, ever, ever, leave me to wake up on my own like that again,” I say, looking up at him. I half expect him to make a joke about how it’s not happening again, that it was one-and-done, because of who he is, his greatness, his majesty, and I’m a bug...
But instead he just looks thoughtful, and a little sad.
“Katy,” his voice is low. He bends his head to mine, forehead pressed against my own, and he closes his eyes. “I promise, I will never... ever...” My heart squeezes painfully. “Ever... leave you,” he whispers the words, and it feels like I’m soaring, my feelings bigger than my skin, uncontainable and wild. “To wake up on your own, ever again.”
I exhale.
Oh god. I’m totally gone for him. This is so real. My whole world has shifted, become magical and beautiful, and I love him.
I love Hades, god of the Underworld, Hadrion Mortaine, owner of club Underworld.
And somehow I feel like that because of that, I’ve put a target on my back and vastly shortened my lifespan. But I wouldn’t trade it for anything. I lace my fingers behind his neck and kiss him.
He groans in response, his arms tightening on me.
“I want to be with you,” I whisper. “Even if it’s not forever.”
“Forever,” he breathes, his eyes burning.
I don’t even have time to question what he means, or think of the implications of it.
Someone clears their throat, and Hadrion closes his eyes, looking pained.
“Yes, Falcon?” He asks, and I turn my head to see Hadrion’s friend standing at the glass divider, haunted amusement on his face.
“We still have much to discuss,” Falcon says drily, “or should I come back later?”
“No,” Hadrion sounds resigned. “Come join us.”
I don’t miss the look that Falcon gives us, his eyes lingering on me. He looks like he wants to say something.
“They’re done,” Falc calls over his shoulder, and Shay emerges from the shadows, looking quite smug and pleased with herself. Behind her, Cyrus trails, like a wary, feral cat.
Except he’s a dog.
