A Game of Retribution (Hades Saga #2)

“I am certain you will have no lack of orgies in the future,” Hades replied.

“Tell Dionysus I’d be happy to chat about his recent acquisition at a time that is most convenient for him.”

“No one talks like that anymore, Hades.”

“I just did,” he replied.

“And look how long it took you to get a girlfriend.”

Hades glared.

“You know what I think you should do?” Hades did not reply, but Hermes continued anyway. “Just castrate him.”

“Castrate him?”

“Think about it, Hades. Who’d mess with you if you started chopping off balls?”

“Nothing good comes from castrating gods,” Hades replied.

Divinity could still be born from the flesh of the gods, as his grandfather, Uranus, had demonstrated with the birth of the Furies, giants, nymphs, and Aphrodite after his testicles were dropped into the ocean.

“It’s just a suggestion,” Hermes said and made his way to the door. “One you’ll want to keep in mind once I deliver this message to Dionysus.”

Hades was aware of Dionysus’s difficult personality, and despite the fact that the God of the Vine was in possession of the Graeae, Hades still had the advantage.

Hermes paused a moment, as if he’d just remembered something, and faced Hades. “Be patient with Sephy. She tries so hard to be independent, she thinks relying on anyone is a weakness.”

Then he left.

Hades gritted his teeth against Hermes’s words. He didn’t like how the god acted as if he knew Persephone better. Hades understood her need to be independent, knew that it stemmed from Demeter’s overprotectiveness, but this was different. People were unpredictable, obsessive, and cruel. He did not trust them, and perhaps it was because he saw the impact of one bad seed. It took one man or woman to turn against a culture, and after a few well-delivered words, a nation was suddenly at war.

Persephone was just now learning the world she would battle, and it was nothing like the one she was used to, because it was his and there was nothing in his life that did not become darkness.

Hades sighed and polished off what remained of his drink before taking the small box out of his pocket. He sat it on the bar and stared at it, unopened. It was tempting to use its magic. Just holding the eye would reveal his future, though Hades knew it was ever-changing, hinging always on the threads the Fates wove into the world.

And if they discovered his use of the eye, he knew they would retaliate, but there was only one thing they could take from him that would damage him beyond repair: Persephone. And while the Fates were vengeful, they were not rash. Even if they considered taking Persephone away, they’d weigh all possible futures, and once they perceived how each ended—in death and fire and darkness—they’d leave their threads entangled.

He opened the box.

The eye that stared back had a large, black pupil, and it was misshapen and gelatinous. He stretched his fingers on the table and curled them into a fist—even gods were not immune to curiosity. Zeus was obsessed with the future, with prophecy, constantly using his oracle to determine who was a threat to his throne.

All Hades wanted to know was that Persephone had a place in his future.

But knowledge always came with a price, and Hades wasn’t willing to pay, even for the certainty. He couldn’t.

There was too much at stake right now.

He closed the box, shoved it in his pocket, and left Nevernight to go in search of Persephone.

He wanted to hear about her day.



*

Hades found Persephone in her room, standing with her eyes closed. Her head was tilted slightly upward as if she were inviting him to kiss her full lips. As he observed her, she took a breath, shivering, and her shoulders rose with it. She looked…adorable, and he found himself smiling at how much he loved her.

Despite everything that had transpired today, this moment made it all worth it.

He touched her chin and pressed his mouth to hers, and his mind went blank, consumed by her smell and her taste and her touch. Her hands splayed softly across his chest, kindling heat in the core of his stomach. He stepped closer, tangled his hand in her hair, and kissed her harder. He wanted nothing more than to take her home to the Underworld and continue this worship, especially if it meant avoiding the world that existed beyond them.

Yet there was a part of him that did not wish to use Persephone in that way, so he pulled away. Hades pressed his palm to her cheek, searching her gaze. She seemed a little anxious, and while he could feel it tangled between them, he did not know what it stemmed from.

“Troubled, darling?”

Suspicion bled into her gaze. “You followed me today, didn’t you?”

“Why would you think that?” he asked, especially since he hadn’t, but he was curious about her reasoning.

“You insisted Antoni take me to work this morning, most likely because you already knew what the media was reporting.”

“I didn’t want to worry you.” And while he had assumed she would be under the scrutiny of both the media and the public at large, he had to admit that he hadn’t expected the crowd that had gathered today, but it appeared the public did not yet connect their fear of him to Persephone.

“So you let me walk into a mob?”

“Did you walk into that mob?” he asked, knowing better.

“You were there! I thought we agreed. No invisibility.”

“I wasn’t,” he said. “Hermes was.”

Her eyes flashed with a note of frustration and then dread as Hades spoke.

“You could always teleport, or I can provide an aeg—”

“I don’t want an aegis. I’d rather not use magic, not…in the Upperworld.”

“Unless you’re exacting revenge?” He raised a brow, knowing full well she had no trouble turning Adonis’s limbs into vines and Minthe into a mint plant.

“That’s not fair. You know my magic has become more and more unpredictable. And I’m not eager to be exposed as a goddess.”

“Goddess or not, you are my lover.”

He had said it to emphasize his point, that things had changed. Even the attention she had received from writing about him was different from this, but he noted how rigid she became and glowered. “It is only a matter of time before someone with a vendetta against me tries to harm you. I will keep you safe.”

At his words, Persephone hugged herself, and at least he knew some of them had gotten through.

“You really think someone would try to harm me?”

“Darling, I have judged human nature for millennia. Yes.”

“Can’t you, I don’t know, erase people’s memories? Make them forget about all this.”

He frowned at her question. All this, he thought. What she really meant was them.

“It is too late for that. What is so terrible about being known as my lover?”

“Nothing,” she said instantly. “It’s just that word.”

“What’s wrong with ‘lover’?”

“It sounds so fleeting. Like I am nothing but your sex slave.”

One corner of his lips curled. “What am I to call you, then? You have forbidden the use of ‘my queen’ and ‘my lady.’”

“Titles make me uncomfortable,” she said and hesitated. “It’s not that I don’t want to be known as your lover…but there has to be a better word.”

“‘Girlfriend’?” Hades supplied. He had to admit, it was an odd choice given the circumstances of their fate, but it was modern enough.

She laughed and Hades glowered.

“What’s wrong with ‘girlfriend’?”

“Nothing. It just seems so…insignificant,” she explained, growing flustered, and Hades felt less defensive as her cheeks reddened.

He touched her chin once more, holding her gaze as he stepped even closer. Their faces were inches apart, his lips hovering near hers, ready to take her mouth against his once more as he whispered, “Nothing is ever insignificant when it comes to you.”

They stared at each other, and a sweet tension built between them at the faint brush of his lips against hers.

A knock sounded at the door, and Lexa shouted from the other side.

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