CHAPTER XIX: THE HALCYON PROJECT

CHAPTER XIX – THE HALCYON PROJECT

Hades teleported to his chambers, naked, cock straining, desperate for release.

She left me, he thought as he took a long pull straight from the whiskey bottle he had swiped from his bar. He paced, body rigid. The more he moved, the more he was reminded of his need.

Fucking Fates. Fucking Minthe.

This is a taste of my own medicine, he thought. I left her, too. Is this how she felt?

The thought was both pleasing and agonizing at the same time.

He paused, drank once more from the bottle, and threw it into the roaring fire. It shattered, and for a moment, the flames raged, the perfect representation of how he felt on the inside. As the blaze died down, he braced himself against the table and wrapped his fingers around his swollen length, gritting his teeth and closing his eyes.

In the darkness of his mind, he teleported to Persephone, finding her splayed on her bed, legs apart, fingers buried inside her, giving pleasure just as he had taught her in the baths. Her heels dug into the bed, her back arched, her breathing grew heavy. She was beautiful, exposed skin bathed in moonlight—a silvery goddess in the throes of passion.

Then she moved onto her knees and rocked back and forth, rolling her hips as she rode her hand.

“Tell me you’re thinking about me,” Hades said, and his hand gripped his cock, stroking lightly, savoring the pleasure that rushed to his head.

Persephone turned, her wide green eyes meeting his in the dark. Even in this light, he could see her cheeks were flushed. Her hair fell in disarray around her face, and her nipples strained against her nightshirt.

“Well?” he prompted.

“Yes,” she breathed. “I was thinking about you.”

He growled low in his throat. “Don’t stop on my account.”

She rose onto her knees and pulled her shirt over her head. His eyes roved her beautiful body, full breasts and dark nipples. A small waist he wanted to hold as she rode him to release, and wide hips that would cling to him as he drove into her.

The goddess began again, parting her flesh to pleasure herself. For a while, they maintained eye contact, and as she moved up and down, Hades stroked himself, increasing in urgency the more he witnessed her passion, head rolling back, breasts bouncing, teeth biting down on her bottom lip. Soon his hips moved, thrusting into his hand.

“Come for me,” he commanded. “Come, my darling.”

Her cries gave way to his own as his body jerked, hand filling with hot release. He collapsed against the table, breathing hard. Despite his need to catch his breath, he laughed.

He laughed because he had just had one of the hottest sexual encounters of his long life. Because his goddess—his future wife—had pleasured herself—and she had thought of him.

***

“Tell me why you are taking Minthe to the Olympian Gala tonight and not Persephone?”

The question came from Hecate, who stood behind Hades as he adjusted his tie in the mirror. The Goddess of Witchcraft did not look pleased, looming in her purple robes, arms crossed over her chest.

The Olympian Gala occurred every year and was hosted at the Museum of Ancient Arts. It was an extravagant affair and an excuse for the gods to flaunt their wealth. The only reason Hades went was because the event doubled as a fundraiser. This year, the gala was themed after the Underworld, which meant that Hades and his foundation had a hand in choosing the charity.

“I am not taking Minthe,” Hades said. “She is my assistant.”

And he had not asked Persephone because she was going as an assignment for work, and taking Lexa.

“You do realize the only thing Persephone will see is you arriving at the gala with Minthe?”

Hades thought about the other night in the baths, when Minthe had interrupted them. Persephone had looked pointedly at his groin, his cock and balls heavy. He heard her words in his head. Then Minthe can assist you with your need.

Hades ground his teeth and turned to the goddess.

“I do not intend to arrive with her on my arm,” Hades said. “She is there to introduce the Halcyon Project.”

It was something his staff has been working on at The Cypress Foundation—a non-profit that would provide rehabilitation care to mortals for free. It was inspired by Persephone, whose words he could still hear clear as day. If you are going to request a bargain, challenge them to go to rehab if they’re an addict, and do one better, pay for it.

He had not been doing enough. If his true goal was to ensure that life in the Underworld was a better existence for souls, they had to have hope while alive. In the last few weeks, Hades had come to know more and more about hope than he ever imagined.

Hecate was staring, brow raised. “Does Minthe know that?”

“I have given her no reason to think otherwise,” Hades said.

The goddess shook her head. “You do not understand women,” Hecate said. “Unless you have made it explicitly clear, meaning unless you have said the words, Minthe, you are not my date, she will think exactly that.”

“And what makes you an expert suddenly?”

“I may not be interested in relationships, Hades, but I have lived longer than you and have seen these emotions destroy humanity. Besides,” she lifted her chin, “I overheard Minthe telling her minions she had a date with you this evening.”

“Her minions?” he asked.

“She has a group of nymphs she complains to about everything. You should hear the way she talks about Persephone.”

Hades’ eyes narrowed, and suddenly, he was full of curiosity.

“How does she talk about Persephone?”

Hecate’s eyes glittered menacingly as she described in detail the horrible things Minthe had said about the Goddess of Spring, including calling her a favor fuck—a derogatory term mortals used when describing someone who sleeps with a god in exchange for their favor. When Hecate was finished speaking, Hades only had one question.

“Why am I just now hearing about this?”

“I was gathering evidence,” she said defensively. “And if you think I let them get away with calling Persephone names, you’re mistaken.”

Hades waited, and Hecate finally explained.

“I…might have sent an army of poisonous centipedes to crash their picnic. The second time I sent blister beetles.”

“Second time? This has happened more than once?”

“What can I say? Minthe’s out of control,” Hecate said, ignoring the true nature of Hades’ question, which was why hadn’t she come to him earlier?

Hades turned from Hecate, swiping his mask off the table behind him.

“So,” Hecate hedged. “What are you going to do?”

“I will speak with Minthe,” Hades answered.

“Speak,” Hecate repeated. “You aren’t going to use this as an opportunity to…I don’t know…ban her from the Underworld?”

“Perhaps I haven’t made myself clear enough,” Hades said, and leveled his gaze with Hecate’s. “As you so…aptly pointed out in the beginning of this conversation. Trust, goddess, after I’m finished with Minthe, there will be no doubt in her mind of how she should treat Persephone.”

Hades moved to open the door, finding the nymph on the other side. Her hand was raised, as if he had caught her just before she was about to knock. She was dressed in emerald, and jewels hung heavy on her ears and neck.

“Oh,” she said, smiling wide, her eyes darting to Hecate, who still lingered in the background. They narrowed slightly before refocusing on Hades. “I…came to see if you were ready.”

“More than,” Hades replied, and before the nymph could react, he gathered his magic and teleported. They appeared in the Museum of Ancient Arts, just outside the ballroom where the dinner would take place.

“Favor fuck,” Hades said, as he secured his mask.

Minthe looked at him, a mixture of apprehension and fear on her face. “Excuse me?”

“Do you claim to not recognize those words?” Hades asked.

Minthe had nothing to say.

“The next time I hear that you have spoken ill of Persephone will be the last time you assist me,” Hades said. “Do I make myself clear?”

The nymph lifted her chin, eyes glistening with anger, but she remained silent, more than likely embarrassed and angry that she had been called out for her malicious behavior. Hades left the hall and entered the ballroom. He was greeted immediately by the sight of Persephone descending the stairs crowned with gold and dressed in fire.

He stared openly and hungrily. Her gown hugged her body, reminding him that he had seen her naked, touched her in the most intimate way, heard her breathe his name. He knew she thought similarly as her bottle-green eyes trailed his body, igniting him from the inside out, and then his thoughts became chaos and he wondered if she wore anything beneath that dress.

But as she stared, her eyes darkened. Hades stiffened as Minthe walked up beside him, and the rustle of her dress grated against his ears like a steel blade being sharpened.

He did not acknowledge the nymph, but it did not matter. He understood the expression on Persephone’s face. She had assumed what Hecate had predicted, that they had come together. Hades could hear Hecate’s smug voice.

I told you so.

Persephone downed her wine and then disappeared into the crowd, Lexa following close behind.

“I think you were just snubbed,” Minthe commented.

Hades’ mood darkened, and he skirted the crowd in an attempt to keep Persephone within sight. He wanted to explain before it was too late, but he found his way blocked by Poseidon. The god wore a flashy suit, and his hair appeared to have been gelled into something that resembled an ocean wave. Hades thought he looked ridiculous and wondered what Thanatos would think of his hair.

“Brother,” Poseidon said, and glanced over his shoulder to where Persephone stood with Hermes. “Am I keeping you from someone?”

Hades did not respond.

“She is beautiful,” he said. “I can tell even with the mask. Perhaps you’ll share when you tire of her.”

Hades narrowed his gaze, tilting his head as he took a step closer to his brother. They were equal in height, but not in size. Poseidon was bulkier, but Hades was stronger. If Poseidon needed a reminder, Hades was happy to oblige.

“If you so much as glance in her direction again, I will tear you limb from limb and feed your carcass to the Titans,” Hades said. “Do you doubt me?”

Poseidon had the gall to look amused, his aqua eyes sparkling, and he raised a blond brow. “Territorial much, brother?”

“That’s nothing. You should have seen what he did when I rescued her from drowning,” Hermes said, sauntering around them, wings dragging the ground. Hades took a step back.

“Did he piss in a circle around her?” Poseidon asked.

Hades’ jaw grew taut, and he turned his dark gaze upon Hermes, who had just started to open his mouth, when he looked at Hades and shut it. He had a feeling he knew what Hermes was about to say, that he had marked Persephone in another way via a bargain.

“What’s the matter, brother? Afraid her eye will wander?”

Hades felt the darkness rise in him. He would show Poseidon what it was to have wandering eyes when his were removed from his skull and tossed across this room.

But Poseidon was saved by Minthe, who appeared behind him. She slid her arm through his and offered a charming smile.

“Poseidon,” she said in a sultry voice. “It’s been a while.”

The God of the Sea gazed down at her, offering a wide, predatory smile.

“Minthe. You look ravishing.”

She pulled on Poseidon’s arm. “Have you found your table?” she was asking. “I would be more than happy to help.”

As she turned, she glared at Hades as if you say don’t start a scene.

When they were gone, Hermes spoke.

“If you don’t want Poseidon to be an asshat, you shouldn’t provoke him.”

Hades looked at the God of Mischief. “What did Persephone say to you?”

Hermes raised a brow. “Lover’s quarrel?”

He glared.

“I called her out for eye fucking you and she tried to deny it, but we all saw it—from both of you, I might add—and we all felt uncomfortable. Did you know she thinks you don’t believe in love?”

“What?”

“She seems rather bitter about it, too,” Hermes added, eyes wandering around the room. “Oh! Cherries!”

He started to take off but paused and looked at Hades.

“If you want my advice…”

Hades didn’t, but he also didn’t feel like talking.

“Tell her.”

“Tell her what?”

“That you love her, you idiot.” Hermes rolled his eyes. “All these years lived, and you are not the least bit self-aware.”

Hermes left then, and when Hades started to find Persephone again, she was no longer there. He gave a frustrated sigh, and his fingers curled into fists at his sides. There were so many words whirling in his head—words from Hecate and Minthe and Poseidon and Hermes. Strangely, it was something Hecate had said long ago that echoed in his mind now.

Persephone has hope for love, and instead of confirming that, you mocked her. Passion does not require love? What were you thinking?

He hadn’t been, that had been the problem.

Why did I let her think something so false? he thought, and then answered himself. Because I feared exposing the truth of my heart—that I have always desired to love and be loved.

He’d been hoping to guard his heart, build a cage around it so thick that nothing—not even Persephone and her compassion—would find its way through. Except now, she was the only person he wanted close to his heart. It was her compassion he sought. It was her love he wanted.

Because it was her he loved.

Those words impaled his chest and twisted there like a blade. He felt the ache all over his body, in the bottom of his feet and the ends of his fingers. He was left feeling shaky, raw, and exposed. He looked out over the crowd at the mortals and immortals gathered, who were oblivious to the fact that he had been utterly changed in this very moment, in the most bizarre place.

Why could he not have had this realization elsewhere? In the Underworld, perhaps? Poised over Persephone with his cock teasing her entrance?

“Fucking Fates,” he muttered.

“What was that?” Minthe asked, appearing at his side.

Hades glanced at her. “I trust Poseidon found your assistance pleasurable.”

“Jealous, Hades?”

“Hardly,” he replied.

“Don’t insult me,” Minthe snapped. “I did that for you. Everything I do is for you.”

They stared at one another. Hades was not sure what he should say. He was not ignorant to Minthe’s feelings for him, and he had to admit that he had never handled them well.

“Minthe—”

“I came to tell you it’s time for your announcement,” she said, interrupting him. “You should take your place.”

She gathered her dress in her hands and turned, strolling toward the stage. Hades followed behind, keeping to the shadows, his presence ignored as Minthe was introduced and took the spotlight. She looked almost gleeful as she spoke, no hint of her earlier frustration present, but she could not hide her heartbreak from him. He could see it in subtle ways—eyes that were not bright enough, a smile that was not wide enough, shoulders that were not tall enough.

“Welcome,” she said. “Lord Hades is honored to reveal this year’s charity, The Halcyon Project.”

The lights dimmed, and a screen lowered, playing a short video about the project. Hades was not sentimental, but this was a project that felt like his whole heart. Maybe that was because it was inspired by Persephone, or that he had been heavily involved in the design of the building, choosing the technology, and the services the facility would provide. Each time Katerina, the director of his foundation, would ask him questions, he answered them thinking of Persephone. It was his hope that she would be proud of this, that she would see how much her words meant to him.

Hades made his way on stage in the dark, and when the lights came up, he stood before a crowd that cheered at the sight of him. As they quieted, he spoke.

“Days ago, an article was published in New Athens News. It was a scathing critique of my performance as a god, but among those angry words were suggestions on how I could be better. I don’t imagine the woman who wrote it expected me to take those ideas to heart, but in spending time with her, I started to see things her way.” He smirked, chuckling, thinking of how fierce she could be when defending mortals. “I’ve never met anyone who was so passionate about how I was wrong, so I took her advice and initiated The Halcyon Project. As you move though the exhibit, it is my hope that Halcyon will serve as a flame in the dark for the lost.”

Gods and mortals alike shot to their feet, clapping, and Hades retreated, uncomfortable with the spotlight. He wanted to dematerialize into darkness for the rest of the evening, but he also wanted to know what Persephone thought of the project. He stood aside as a line of people made their way into the exhibit, eyes catching Aphrodite’s, who glared at him, probably having not forgiven him for the threat he had leveled at Adonis.

He averted his gaze and searched for Persephone, finding her at her table. He recognized the look on her face, as he had seen it the first time she had arrived at Nevernight.

She was hesitating.

She did not approach until almost everyone had gone inside, and as she did, Hades followed, calling up his glamour to walk beside her. It felt intrusive to observe her this way, but also intimate, and he marveled at the serene expression on her face as she took her time wandering through the exhibit, stopping at each poster to look at concept drawings of the building and gardens, statistics about the current state of addiction and mental health in New Greece, and how those numbers had only increased since The Great War.

She lingered the longest at a 3D printed model of the actual building and expansive grounds, full of trees and gardens and secret pathways. He thought about approaching her, but there was something beautiful about the look on her face—something contemplative and gentle—and he did not want to disturb her, so he left.

Outside the exhibit, Hades found his brother, Zeus. The God of Thunder grinned, looking more like the ancient King of the Gods than the modern man he usually attempted to embody, standing half-dressed beside Hera.

“Well played, brother.” He clapped Hades on the back, and the god curled his fingers into a fist to keep from punching him. “You have the entire world swooning over your compassion.”

“Well done,” Hera said, sounding bored. She met Hades’ eyes only briefly before craning her neck, looking elsewhere across the room, her arm still looped through her husband’s.

“What are you talking about, Zeus?” Hades asked.

“The mortal!” he cried. “Using her slander to your advantage. Genius, really.”

Hades glared. He had not seen this as an opportunity to make himself look better and he hated that his brother was corrupting his intentions, but it was not surprising.

“I desire no such praise or attention,” Hades said. Persephone had valid points, and he listened.

“Of course you didn’t,” Zeus quipped, nudging Hades in the side, as if they were sharing some sort of secret. “I must admit, I kept my expectations low when I heard the Gala would be themed after your realm, but this…this is nice.”

“What praise,” Hades commented blandly. “If you’ll excuse me, I need a drink.”

Hades sidestepped his brother and Hera, and headed straight for the bar. He ordered a whiskey and downed it quickly, wondering how much longer he needed to stay here. It was not as if these people came for him or even the charity. It was about the fashion, the drinking, the dancing, the fun, except this was not Hades’ idea of fun. He had wanted to spend the night between Persephone’s legs, giving and receiving pleasure.

At that thought, he turned, and found the object of his scandalous thoughts a few steps away. His eyes were immediately drawn to her bare back, and he thought of how she had arched against him in the pool, desperate for pleasure. He approached, and he knew she felt him because she straightened and turned her head so that he could see the side of her face—delicate nose and pretty lips.

“Anything to critique, Lady Persephone?” he asked.

“No,” she said quietly, thoughtfully. “How long have you been planning The Halcyon Project?”

“Not long.”

“It will be beautiful.”

He leaned close, fingers skimming her shoulder, tracing the edges of the black appliqué that snaked down her back. She was warm, her skin soft, and she shivered each time they touched skin to skin.

“A touch of darkness,” he murmured, fingers trailing down the inside of her arm until they tangled with her own. “Dance with me.”

She turned to face him, head tilted so that their gazes met. He could see clear to her bright soul, and his darkness was drawn to it.

“All right.”

He drew her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles before leading her to the floor. He pulled her close, their hips touching, and he growled low in his throat. His cock grew taut, reminding him of the baths and how much he wanted to be inside her. He wondered what sort of headlines would splash across the media if he kissed her now and took her to the Underworld.

Hades abducts Persephone, he thought, fingers tightening around hers and her hip as he guided her through a dance, their gazes unwavering, the heat between them building, an inferno that became as cold as ice when she spoke.

“You should be dancing with Minthe.”

He gritted his teeth. “Would you prefer that I dance with her?”

“She’s your date.”

“She is not my date.” He had to work to control his frustration. “She is my assistant, as I have told you.”

“Your assistant doesn’t arrive on your arm to a gala.”

He recognized Hecate’s words as she spoke and seethed.

“You are jealous,” Hades said, smirking.

“I’m not jealous!” Her eyes flashed. “I will not be used, Hades.”

He frowned. “When have I used you?”

She stayed silent, her frustration palpable.

“Answer, goddess.”

“Have you slept with her?”

He froze, and so did everyone else who shared the floor.

“It sounds like you are requesting a game, goddess.”

“You want to play a game?” She jerked her hands away from his. “Now?”

It was the only way he would answer her question, and she knew it. He held out his hand for her to take, eyes alight, begging her to reestablish their connection.

Come with me to the Underworld, he thought. You will not come back the same.

He knew when she had made her decision, because her gaze became fierce and determined—she would have what she wanted. Then, her fingers curled into his, and he smiled, teleporting to the Underworld.