9. Persephone

Chapter 9

Persephone

I found myself wide awake at two in the morning. I tossed and turned for half an hour before finally realizing I wouldn't be able to fall back asleep.

I got out of bed and slipped on an oversized sweatshirt over my sleep shorts and tank, and put on a thick pair of socks before leaving the room.

Everything was dark and quiet, with the sound of a clock ticking in the distance breaking up the stillness. I enjoyed this. With no one around. Not having to pass any of the staff, who always averted their gazes when they saw me. I was uncomfortable enough here without that added stress.

I headed down one hallway first, the house so big that a deeper chill settled in the old bones of the structure.

I wrapped my hands around my waist and became nosy, peeking in open doorways. But everything was too dark for me to see much more than a couple of feet within the rooms.

There was one room I passed, one that looked like a sitting area with a couple of couches, a few bookcases, and a massive vase with fresh flowers sitting atop a table in the center of the room.

And then I passed the actual library.

With built-in shelves, three of the walls were filled with nothing but books. There was a deep-colored leather couch in the center of the room and a small table with a reading lamp beside that. An open book flipped over sat beside that.

Maybe Hades sat here and schemed on how to destroy people's lives and torment them for sport?

I shook my head because I was demonizing a man I truly didn't know. I could only go off from the hatred my father had for him and the rumors I'd heard. Surely he'd been awful for everyone to dislike him. Right?

I enjoyed the solace and calm of the house at this time of night. I felt like I was the only person here.

But as I descended the stairs and started exploring the lower level, walking down hallways I'd never been before, turning corners I didn't even know were there, I heard a deep thump thump thump the farther I ventured.

I stopped in front of a door at the end of the hallway, hearing muted, heavy music coming through.

I probably shouldn't have reached out and turned the knob and pulled the door open, but I stood at the top of a flight of stairs that descended into the basement.

Before I was even down the stairs, I saw another closed door. By now, the music was growing louder as I moved down the steps and stood at the bottom landing. Curiosity was an accelerant as I opened the second door.

I involuntarily took a step back at the sight before me. Music blasted out of the large gymnasium, and the scent of sweat and something deeper, dark and spicy, filled my nose.

Maybe it should've been unpleasant.

But it wasn't the sight of the gym or the aroma of masculine sweat that had me transfixed. It was the fact Hades stood in the center of the vast room in just a pair of boxing shorts as he beat the living hell out of a dummy in the center of the room.

Not only that, but his arms, chest, and back were completely covered in dark ink. I could see the way his muscles flexed underneath all those tattoos, and when he shifted on his feet, bouncing on the balls, his back facing me, I was staring right at a vicious-looking skull face.

It covered him from shoulder blades to waist and disappeared beneath his shorts. Made up of scrollwork and flowers, knives, and even guns interwoven, the entire thing was a beautiful tapestry covering his skin.

Music blasted from the speakers that hung in the corners of the ceiling. It was angry and loud. And despite Hades' colossal size and intimidating body, his moves were fluid as he swung, ducked, and threw his arms hard and fast into the dummy.

He did this repeatedly as if he were dancing a graceful, violent choreography.

I felt my brows furrow the longer I watched him. When the light hit him every so often as he moved, I could see strange patterns etched into his skin.

The marks were raised, long, and crisscrossing each other. It took me a moment to realize what I was looking at. Somebody had hit him. Whipped him. There was no other explanation for that type of pattern on his flesh.

I could see droplets of sweat sliding down the wide, muscular expanse of his back.

But seeing him like this? He looked brutal. Like a savage. He truly was as dangerous as he appeared.

I didn't know how long I stood there, just watching him, but at the moment he shifted on his feet and turned around, our eyes locked. It was as if my body knew I needed to edge away from the predator.

I took a step back, my heart instantly racing, a flood of adrenaline filling my system.

A second later, the music cut off on its own, and I swallowed, a thick lump suddenly lodged in my throat. I was afraid, yet that rush of adrenaline from the fear wasn't abhorrent as it should've been. It was almost… exciting.

"It's late," Hades said in a deep, rough voice. He didn't even sound out of breath, although sweat covered his body and his chest pumped up and down from exertion. "What the fuck are you doing out of bed and down here?" He took a step forward, and I took one back, but the wall stopped my retreat. I glanced to the left to see the stairs. I could run up them fast and quickly go to my room and shut and lock the door.

He gave a deep chuckle that had me slowly looking back at him.

"Go on," he taunted as he came closer. "Run up the stairs. Let me chase you."

I felt my eyes widen. I didn't know what was happening between us. The shift in the relationship was completely inappropriate, yet I didn't want it to stop.

"You think you're fast. But I promise I'm faster."

The danger that poured off of him, the unrestrained violence that I knew he was capable of, shouldn't have had me nearly moaning.

I hated myself for wanting him, for wanting to know what it would feel like to have those big, rough, tattooed hands holding me down, giving me bruises. I was disgusted with myself.

There had to be something wrong with me. Yet I stood there, not trying to stop him. I was hyper aware and fully awake as I stayed frozen in place. And still he came closer.

"I'm not afraid of you." I said those words, and I placed my palms flat on the wall behind me, staring up at Hades as he stopped in front of me.

"No?" He inclined his head slightly and searched my face, his focus slipping to my mouth every so often. "You probably should be, Princess."

I shivered in response to his tone, to this very intimidating sight of him. And when I inhaled, I could pick up the scent of clean male sweat. Never in my life did I think what that aroma would arouse, but I found my body continuing to light up by his proximity.

"But I'll be honest." He rolled his hips, and I gasped then, unable to hold the sound in as he pushed his cock against me. "I like the fact I don't affect you like I do others."

He leaned in, and I turned my head, closing my eyes and telling myself it was to get away from him.

But that was a lie. And when I heard him inhale and felt the brush of the tip of his nose against the side of my throat, a soft sound escaped me because it felt so good.

"It makes me harder than I've ever fucking been in my life when you act like a feisty little thing." When I said nothing in response, he pulled back and slowly smiled. "No one has the balls to butt heads with me." He was full-on grinning now. "Not being afraid makes me want to fuck you, baby."

"Oh my God." The words spilled out of me before I could stop them.

Hades lifted his arm to place his hand on the wall beside my head, his thick, tattooed arm caging me in. This was reminiscent of three days ago, when he'd taken me over his knee and spanked my ass so hard I was pretty sure I could've orgasmed from it alone.

And as if he read my thoughts, any humor faded from his expression, and he ground his hard , prominent erection into my hip.

I bit my lip, holding in a gasp that would've left me.

"What's your endgame?" My voice was breathy, whisper-thin. His eyebrow twitched as if he wanted to cock it, as if it surprised him I'd ask the question.

"My endgame?"

I licked my lips, and he focused on the act. "Yes." My voice was still so soft that I wondered if he could even hear me. "I'm not a fool. I know you're not helping me out of the kindness of your heart. I know no judge would sign over an eighteen-year-old's care to someone else. Legally, I'm an adult."

He didn't speak, but the corner of his mouth curled up. "Are you now, sweetheart?"

"You and my father didn't get along. You hated each other. You were never around me and don't care for me as an uncle would for a niece…"

"No," he said in a strange voice. He ground himself against me. "I don't see you as my niece, Bunny."

"Stop doing that." There was zero conviction in my voice.

The feeling of him digging that enormous erection into my hip had me using every ounce of self-control I possessed not to moan.

I was so aroused it was embarrassing.

"I definitely don't think of you as my niece."

My heart leapt in my chest.

"My endgame, darling." He pulled back and took several steps away from me.

I couldn't stop myself from looking down at his groin. Oh, God… his gym shorts were tented so obscenely.

The length of his dick was so long, the girth so substantial, that there was no way it could be real.

"If you really knew the bastard your father was, Persephone, he'd be knocked down from that pedestal you worship him on."

I snapped my attention to Hades and furrowed my brow.

"You don't get to talk about my father," I spat out, annoyed. "You didn't have a relationship with him."

"I had enough memories with your father to last me a lifetime in hell."

I didn't know what he meant, but my anger was already so nuclear that it didn't matter. "And I don't worship my father. But he was a good man, and he loved me."

Hades' smirk faded, and he didn't respond, didn't even blink as he stared at me.

He glanced away, and I could see his jaw clench. He was clearly thinking about something intense and doing it hard. And with each passing second, his expression turned even more volatile.

When he looked at me again, a small sound escaped my lips because his expression was so frightening. "Just go, Persephone. Go before I do something that will make you cry."

I couldn't move, not from fear, but from this electrifying confusion, this strange emotion whispering to see how far I could push him.

Instinctively, I knew I should leave, but I pictured myself being the terrified gazelle, and he was the starving lion.

Hades was on a razor's edge right now. He was liable to snap. I didn't know why or how I knew that, but I could see that deviant flare in his eyes. But I stood rooted to the spot until a little growl left him and he moved closer.

"Go."

His voice was frighteningly low, a vibration of warning I felt everywhere.

"I said fucking go ," he roared, and I was smart enough to leave then, to force myself to turn and run up the stairs, down the hall, and right to my room where I locked myself in.

The only thing I didn't understand was why I was so… wet.