Chapter XXI: Hades

CHAPTER XXI

HADES

The gates were the only entrance by which the dead entered the Underworld. They were large and beautifully detailed with symbols of his realm, crafted by the cyclops who had also given Hades the Helm of Darkness.

They remained closed until Thanatos, Hermes, or another psychopomp led souls to the Underworld, at which point they opened to the Dreaming Tree and beyond to the Styx where Charon waited to ferry them across to the Field of Judgment.

He watched Persephone as she observed their surroundings, which were dark—even the sky overhead. Here, outside the gates, it was always night, and it was within this night that the deities of the Underworld resided.

“What clings to that tree?” Persephone asked, nodding toward the gates and at the tree beyond, which was several feet wide and nearly as tall as the gates. Its branches were thick with foliage and heavy with teardrop-shaped orbs of light.

“Dreams,” he replied, looking at her. “Those who enter the Underworld must leave them behind.”

Her expression did not change, but he could sense her sadness.

“Must all souls walk through these gates?”

“Yes. It is the journey they must take to accept their death. Believe it or not, it was once more frightening than this.”

She looked at him. “I did not mean that it was frightening.”

He touched her, drawing his thumb over her lips. “And yet you tremble.”

“I tremble because it is cold. Not out of fear. It is very beautiful here, but it is also…overwhelming. I can feel your power here, stronger than anywhere else in the Underworld.”

“Perhaps that is because this is the oldest part of the Underworld,” he said, summoning a cloak that he draped around her shoulders. “Better?”

“Yes,” she said, pulling it closed.

Hades sensed the arrival of Hermes and Thanatos, who appeared, peeling their wings away from their bodies to reveal several souls, all of various ages. It was not so surprising and yet never easy to see the young among the dead.

“Lord Hades, Lady Persephone,” Thanatos said, bowing. “We…will return.”

“There are more?” There was surprise in Persephone’s voice, and the fact that she thought this was all made him feel guilty, as if he had been the one who summoned the storm.

“It’s all right, Sephy,” Hermes said. “Just focus on making them feel welcome.”

He and Thanatos vanished.

A man who stood with his daughter fell to his knees.

“Please. Take me, but do not take my daughter! She is too young!”

“You have arrived at the Gates of the Underworld,” Hades said. “I am afraid I cannot change your fate.”

He worried over his words, wondered whether they would strike anger in Persephone’s heart. For those who lived outside his realm, death was hard to accept, and so were his limitations, given that he was a god.

The man scowled. “You are a liar! You are the God of the Dead! You can change her fate!”

“Lord Hades may be God of the Dead, but he is not the weaver of your thread,” Persephone said. “Do not fear, mortal father, and be brave for your daughter. Your existence here will be peaceful.”

Then Hades watched as she knelt before the young girl.

“Hi. My name is Persephone. What’s your name?”

The girl was shy, but she smiled at Persephone and answered, “Lola.”

“Lola, I am glad you are here and with your father too. That is lucky. Would you like to see some magic?”

The girl nodded, and Hades felt a rush of Persephone’s power as she manifested a single white flower, which she placed in the girl’s hair.

“You are very brave,” she said. “Will you be brave for your father too?”

The little girl nodded and went to her dad, taking his hand, and the man seemed to calm.

It wasn’t long after that more souls arrived, and despite the growing numbers, Persephone never wavered in her dedication to greet everyone with the same kindness and enthusiasm. Hades marveled at how comfortable she seemed despite how distraught she had been when she’d first come to him about the accident. There was a part of him that knew she was still disturbed, that this experience would leave her changed forever, but she did not let her distress show and carried herself like a queen.

He took her hand as the gates began to open and drew her toward them.

“Welcome to the Underworld.”

They led the souls through the gates, and beneath the Dreaming Tree, everything they had hoped and dreamed from their life above was drawn from their mind.

“Think of it as a release,” he said, squeezing Persephone’s hand. “They will no longer be burdened with regret.”

They would be content.

Beyond the tree were the lush banks of the River Styx, and waiting in his ferry boat was Charon, a bright beacon against the dark waters.

He grinned as they approached.

“Welcome, welcome! Come, let’s get you all home,” Charon said, and he stepped into the crowd, choosing the souls who would be first to board the boat. He stopped at only five. “No more,” he said. “I will return.”

Persephone looked at Hades, confused. “Why did he not take more?”

“Remember when I said the souls made this journey to accept death? Charon will not take them until they have.”

“What if they don’t?”

“Most do.”

“And?” she persisted. “What about the rest?”

“It is a case-by-case basis. Some are allowed to see how the souls live in Asphodel. If that does not encourage them to adjust, they are sent to Elysium. Some must drink from the Lethe.”

“And how often does that happen?”

“It is rare, but inevitably, in times like these, there is always someone who struggles.”

Like Lola’s father, who remained on the bank of the river.

“Lola,” said Charon, extending his hand. “It is time.”

“No!” Her father knelt and gathered her into his arms. “She doesn’t go alone. She can’t.”

“She can,” said Charon. “It is you who cannot.”

“We go together or not at all!”

“What are you afraid of?” Persephone asked.

The man held her gaze, almost comforted by her presence. “I left my wife and son behind.”

“And do you not trust, after all that you have seen here, that you will see them again?”

“But—”

“Your wife will have comfort because you are here with Lola, and she will wait to be reunited with you both here in the Underworld. In Asphodel. Do you not wish to make a space for them? To welcome them when they come?”

Her words sent chills down Hades’s spine. In all his years as God of the Underworld, he had never convinced a soul to enter Asphodel in this manner. It was kind, compassionate, and thoughtful. It was exactly why he loved her.

As she spoke, the man started to cry, and he kept crying.

Charon and Hades exchanged a look, but Persephone waited patiently until he was finished and announced he was ready.

Charon smiled.

“Then welcome to the Underworld,” he said, and the two clambered into the boat. Hades and Persephone followed.

It was a journey Persephone had made once before when she had wandered into the Underworld and fallen into the Styx, though he imagined this was far more pleasant, given that she was safe within Charon’s boat, where the souls that swam beneath the surface could not reach her.

He recalled that time with some discomfort.

It was her first visit to the Underworld, the first time he had felt responsible for her, especially when he discovered she had been injured. It was the first time she’d met Hermes—though not the first time he’d tossed the God of Trickery across the Underworld.

It seemed like so long ago.

Persephone looked at him and smiled softly.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Nothing,” he said. “Just thinking about how beautiful you are.”

Beautiful in so many ways.

Her brows rose, as if she were curious or perhaps suspicious of his thoughts, but if she were going to comment, it was lost once Lola spoke.

“Look!”

Persephone’s gaze shifted to shore where the other souls waited, and while her attention was no longer on him, he did not take his eyes off her.

Lola and her father were helped onto the pier by Yuri and Ian, welcomed with music and food by the other souls in Asphodel as they made their trek to the Field of Judgment.

Charon’s soft laughter drew Hades’s gaze. “They certainly shall never forget their entrance into the Underworld.”

“Do you think it will overshadow the suddenness of their death?” Persephone asked.

He smiled. “I think your Underworld will more than make up for it, my lady.” He bowed, stepped into his boat, and returned across the river.

“Is it still a fate woven by the Fates if it is caused by another god?” Persephone asked.

Hades looked down at her, frowning. He knew she asked because Demeter had been responsible for this, but that did not mean the Fates weren’t involved.

“All fates are chosen by the Fates,” Hades replied. “Lachesis had probably allotted an amount of time to each of them that ended today, and Atropos chose the wreck as their manner of death. Your mother’s storm provided the catalyst.”

He knew his words were not comforting. They were just what they were—the reality of fate.

“Let us leave this place. I have something to show you.”

Today, Demeter had hurt his lover, his goddess, his future wife, and if she thought for a second he would not repay the favor with fury, she would soon learn.

He brought her closer as he teleported to the Temple of Sangri, to the bottom of the marble steps, untouched by ice or snow.

“Hades…why are we at my mother’s temple?”

“Visiting,” he said and held her gaze as he kissed her hand.

“I do not wish to visit,” she said.

“Your mother wants to fuck with us,” he said as he ascended the steps, Persephone following at his side despite her resistance. “Then we shall fuck with her.”

“Do you intend to burn her temple to the ground?”

“Oh, darling,” Hades said with a smile. “I am far too depraved for that.”

As they came to the top of the steps, Hades called on his magic, and the doors of the temple burst open. Priests and priestesses froze in place as they saw him approach, eyes wide with fear, though some looked on with hatred.

“L-lord Hades—” A priest attempted to stop him at the doors, though he shook.

“Leave,” he commanded.

“You cannot enter the Temple of Demeter. This is a sacred space!” a priestess aid.

Hades ignored her.

“Leave,” he said again, gathering his power, knowing they could feel it lifting the hair on their arms and the backs of their necks. “Or be witness—and complicit—in the desecration of this temple.”

They fled, and Hades drew Persephone inside, closing the doors behind them.

He turned to her. “Let me make love to you.”

“In my mother’s temple? Hades—”

He silenced her with a kiss, knowing it would ignite the desire that simmered between them, and it did. Persephone bent to his will, her body like liquid gold, forming to him like his shadowed magic.

“My mother will be furious,” she said as her lips left his, breathless.

“I’m furious,” he said, bracing one hand behind her head, the other sliding down, over her ass and under her thigh as he drew her leg over his hip. He kissed her hard and ground into her, a taste of how desperate he was for her. He broke from their kiss and trailed his lips along her jaw. “And you haven’t said no,” he pointed out as she clung to him tighter.

He released her, needing her to choose. He had asked her to do something in direct defiance of her mother, and while she was no stranger to such behavior, this was different. They were going to fuck in this temple, on scared ground. Demeter had ended lives for such behavior.

But the fact was, she already had ended lives, and she deserved to witness this. She deserved the dishonor.

Persephone said nothing as she drew her hands beneath his jacket and slid it from his shoulders. Hades considered using magic to divest them of their clothes faster, but there was no reason to rush. This was meant to be worship, and as Hades undressed her, he did exactly that, kissing and licking every inch of her exposed skin, even as he knelt to help her out of her skirt.

He stayed there on his knees before her for a moment, burying his head between her legs, teasing her swollen clit, which peeked out from the curls at the apex of her thighs.

He liked the way she inhaled between her teeth, the way she rolled her head from side to side as she let the feel of him against her radiate throughout her body.

He wanted to fill every part of her, own every part of her.

Hades rose to his feet and took her into his arms, carrying her down the aisle of her mother’s temple to her altar, which was crowded with cornucopias of fruit and sheaves of wheat. Two large, gold basins full of fire roared on either side. Hades had felt their heat from the doors, but now that they were this close, his body was already damp with sweat.

At the center of those basins, Hades knelt to lay her on the tiled floor. She held his gaze as he shifted between her thighs, his blood hot, his body aching as she widened her legs, exposing her soft, slick center.

His mouth instantly watered, and the head of his cock felt as though it had a heartbeat, desperate to be sheathed within her body.

He bent and ran his tongue along her sex once before pulling away and meeting her gaze.

“You are wet for me,” he said, voice rumbling in his chest.

He felt crazed and possessive.

She held his gaze, whispering, “Always.”

“Always. Even at the sight of me?”

She nodded, and he wrapped a hand around her knee, kissing her there.

“Do you want to know how I feel when I see you?”

She nodded.

“When I see you, I cannot help but think of you like this. Bare. Beautiful. Drenched.”

He kissed up her thigh, letting his tongue taste her. She squirmed beneath his touch as he drew closer and closer to her center, whispering truths against her skin.

“My cock is heavy for you, and I am desperate to fill you.”

“Then why am I so empty?”

Her eyes glittered with challenge, and Hades smirked before he let himself indulge in her heat. Her clit was erect, and he drew it into his mouth, sucking softly, circling it with his tongue. Persephone arched against his mouth, and he looked up to see her squeezing her breasts and rolling her nipples between her fingers.

Fuck, she was amazing.

He let his tongue slide along her folds and dip into the wetness gathered along her opening before he entered her with one finger. Her body tightened and relaxed with a guttural moan. He could not help watching her take him. She was shameless and wanton, and his lust for her only burned hotter, deeper, fuller.

He added another finger, stroking her, licking her, teasing her until she came against his mouth, and as her body melted into the floor, he worked his way up, kissing her dampened skin until his lips aligned with hers. She tasted him, her tongue hungrily colliding with his own, her hands reaching for his cock, which strained between them.

Suck me, for fuck’s sake, he thought as he groaned, but he was also bold enough to ask.

“Do you wish to take me in your mouth?”

“Always,” she said and sat up as he leaned back on his heels.

“That word.”

It made his breath catch in his chest. It made his body shudder with need. It made his heart rise with hope.

“What’s wrong with that word?”

“Nothing,” he said, as he stretched out on the floor where he had just made her come. “It’s…perfect.”

She stared at him for a moment, her eyes like bright gems. Then she wrapped her fingers around him and licked him from root to tip.

He took a breath to repress a violent shudder.

Despite how many times this had happened, there was a part of him that still could not believe it. He hoped she liked the taste. He hoped she wanted more. She seemed to as her mouth closed over the crown of his cock. She sucked softly, her tongue kneading the top where his come beaded. Then she opened and took him to the back of her throat over and over.

He dragged her from his cock before he came. He sat up, and their mouths crashed together and he pressed her to the ground, shifting onto his knees to slide his arousal over her clit and along her slick opening.

She was hot and his muscles clenched at the feel of her.

“Now, Hades! You promised.”

He managed a laugh, but she did not realize how hard she made this. Her desperation spoke to his even as he struggled to take his time.

“What did I promise, my darling?” he asked as he let his lips skim along her neck to her ear, but she jerked her head toward his, her mouth grazing his as he pulled back.

“To fill me,” she said, her eyes on his lips. Then she met his gaze. “To fuck me.”

“That was no promise,” he said, nestling the head of his cock against her heat. “It was a vow.”

He thrust into her, and her whole body seemed to contract around him. He liked the feel of it, the hold she had over him, but he waited for her muscles to ease before he moved.

“Let me make love to you,” he said again, though he felt like every time they had sex, they made love. It wasn’t about a hard or fast fuck, a slow or fierce chase to release. It was about how he felt about her.

And he always loved her.

She nodded, just barely, her skin glistening under the firelight.

She was fucking beautiful and full of him, and as he began to move, she responded gloriously like she’d never taken him before. He loved everything about how she moved—the way her fingers dug into his forearms, the way her breasts rose as she lifted her hips to meet his.

Fuck.

He pushed off the ground, resting on his knees as he gripped her thighs, pressing her knees into her chest as he moved. Beneath him, her skin grew rosy, her breath shallow, and her eyes rolled.

Fucking beautiful.

He pulled out and licked the thick fluid dripping from her sex. He had never tasted anything so sweet—not even nectar, not even ambrosia. She would heal every wound. Persephone’s fingers tangled in his hair, and he let her drag him up her body. He felt far more frantic the second time he entered her, desperate to feel her tighten and release, desperate for her to come on his cock.

“Come on, darling.” His voice was quiet, breathless. He wasn’t even sure she was listening, because her body had tightened beneath him, around him, and when she came, he followed, burying himself deep to spill inside her.

He felt like he came forever, likely because he’d held his breath until he was finished, to the point that his chest hurt, but he didn’t care.

She was worth it. She was worth everything.

He bent and pressed his forehead to hers as he caught his breath, then kissed her mouth and rolled onto his back. They lay like that for a while, listening to the sounds of the crackling fire.

After a while, Persephone moved, resting her head on his chest. “What is this I hear about a horse rescue?” she asked, her voice sounded thick with sleep.

He raised a brow, though she couldn’t see. She could only be talking about the acreage he’d recently purchased in Elis with the hopes of establishing a horse rescue and rehabilitation center. It was a bit of a passion project, though he knew Persephone would appreciate it. He’d planned to tell her by taking her there.

“I was going to tell you by showing you,” he said, a little frustrated that someone had ruined something he’d been saving as a surprise. “Who told you?”

“No one told me,” she said. “I overheard.”

“Hmm.”

There were few downsides to having her work at Alexandria Tower, but this was definitely one.

After a moment, she shifted, resting her arms atop his chest to meet his gaze.

“Harmonia visited today.”

“Oh?”

“She thinks the weapon used to capture her was a net and that it was made with my mother’s magic.”

That was interesting information.

“Why would my mother help attack her own people?”

She sounded upset, but Hades was not at all surprised, explaining, “It has happened every time new gods rise to power.”

“New gods or new power?”

“Perhaps both,” he said. “I suppose we will find out sooner or later.”

She said nothing for a long moment, but her silence did not last.

“What was Theseus doing in your office today?”

“Trying to convince me he had nothing to do with your assault and the attack on Adonis or Harmonia.”

“And did he?”

“I could not detect a lie,” Hades admitted, though he knew Theseus was a sociopath. Lying was like speaking the truth to him.

“But you still think he was responsible?”

“I think his inaction makes him responsible,” Hades said. “By now, he must know the names of her attackers, and yet he refused to divulge them.”

“Don’t you have methods for extracting information?” she asked, and Hades smirked.

“Eager for blood, darling?”

But she did not seem as amused. “I just don’t understand what power he has to keep that information.”

“The same kind of power any man has with a following,” Hades said. “Hubris.”

Arrogance.

The downfall of man.

“Is that not a punishable offense in the eyes of a god?”

“Trust, darling,” Hades said, curling a few strands of hair around his finger. “By the time Theseus comes to the Underworld, it will be I who escorts him straight to Tartarus.”