Chapter 17

Chapter

Seventeen

P ersephone

The air is cooler than usual. Heavy storm clouds roll in a dark sky, obscuring, for the most part, a big-bellied, not-quite-full, moon. I’ve never felt particularly safe in storms. Back home, I had a tendency to run for cover, slipping under the warmth of a soft blanket. Unlike my mother, who would sit out on the front porch and watch the storm create a picture of chaos in the sky, I wouldn’t even watch from the windows. Something about the arc of lightning had always sparked a quick lash of ominous fear in my chest. Even now, I can feel my breaths quickening, keeping pace with the uncontrolled beating of my wild heart.

“You don’t like storms?” Hades’ low rumble rivals the thunder that rumbles in the prison of the skyline.

I drag my eyes from the rolling sky to the man who sits, so big—so massive in the space he claims, always. Now, he is lounging in the hot tub, closer to the danger of the sky that threatens a storm of chaos than I’m sure is safe. His arms rest on the side, spread like wings on either side of his body. He’s pulled his long hair into a tie at the nape of his neck, and his thick beard is trimmed neatly to contradict the wild danger I sense resides inside him, never more than a threat away from revealing itself, shrouding him in even more mystery.

I swallow hard as another arc of lightning flashes in the sky, reflecting in his dark eyes. “Not particularly.”

“Interesting.”

I frown. “Why is that interesting?”

“No reason.”

“Hades…” I shake my head, giving up. “You say the oddest things sometimes.”

He watches me for a long moment. “Consider, for a moment, that most are descendants of the Gods.” I nod when he pauses, aware of the way Noc lifts his head as though to listen to our conversation. It’s not the first time I’ve wondered just how much the pup can understand.

Hades continues, pulling my attention from Noc. “What if you were told that you were a direct descendent of Zeus?”

“I—I don’t know.” I can’t help but wonder, with his obsession with the ancient Gods of myth, if he could be even more unstable than I am.

Thunder cracks in the sky. I flinch, my heart pounding an unstable rhythm in my chest. Noc scoots closer, his paws little more than an inch away from the ledge of the tub. I think he senses my fear, and he’s trying to show me in his doggy way that I am safe. If my hands weren’t wet, I’d pet him.

Hades draws my attention from Noc. “Would you not think, that if you were a direct descendent of Zeus, that you would be rather attracted to storms?”

“I suppose that would make sense.”

“And that right there is what’s interesting.”

I shift. “No one says I’m a descendent of Zeus.” I consider the ancient Gods of myth for a moment. “If I were a direct descendent of the Gods…”

Hades leans closer. “Go on. Who would you say sired you, if such a thing were possible?”

“I don’t know. I’m comforted by the sun. Energized by it. The feel of the light on my skin it—it makes me feel—” I shake my head. “Revived, I guess. But I am attracted, drawn by a force I can’t fight or deny, to the darkness.” I give him a coy look. “Perhaps I am a descendent of Hades.”

Hades’ lips twitch, his eyes dropping to my own with a hunger that sparks something forbidden deep within me. His voice is deep and low. Sensual with an edge of threat I just can’t seem to heed. “I very much doubt Hades sired you.”

I roll my eyes. “Then Hyperion. Or maybe even Helios. If you’re basing lineage on likes and dislikes, I’d say I was linked in some way to Hyperion, Helios, or Hades.”

“The light and the dark.”

I shrug coyly. “I am attracted to both.”

He rumbles something incoherent, then asks, “And your mother?”

“This is silly.” I release a tense breath.

I don’t know why I’m tense. Hades has a fascination with the old Gods that can explain his trying to connect himself to them in some capacity. But it’s fantasy, like any fantasy. They—the Gods—are fantasy. I don’t know why I’m making it out to feel like more.

Straightening my shoulders, I ask, “Who would you say fathered you?”

“Cronos,” he replies without hesitation, turning the conversation back to me. “Persephone, who would you say birthed you, if a Goddess were to have birthed your eternal soul?”

My mind flashes to my latest glimpse into insanity. The vision I’d had of myself walking through the tunnel of darkness into a bright, warm light. The light that washed away the paint of the Underworld, to adorn me in the golden glow of sun and wheat. I see the woman who stood in elegant garb of white, smelling of warm wheat. The woman I’d called mother .

My heart knocks wildly in my chest, and the name falls from my lips on a breathless whisper. “Demeter.”

The next flash of lightning strikes almost simultaneously with an ominous crack of thunder. I jump, a small screech escaping. Hades chuckles, but there’s a darkness swirling in his eyes as he mutters darkly, “It’s just Zeus splitting souls again.”

I want to roll my eyes at Hades’ interpretation of the ancient myth, but can’t. Something about the words he speaks feels like truth.

Hades speaks again. “You don’t like storms, but you find comfort in the sun. We know you have an affinity for wheat fields and flowers, but what do you feel of the sea? The oceans?”

I shudder before I can stop myself. The vision of the man in the water assaults me. His skin the color of ebony, his white hair shimmering like a pearl under a crescent moon—and his eyes. His eyes the color of a deep-sea blue, bursting with bioluminescent light in the moment before I buried my face in Hades’ neck.

“The sea holds little comfort for me. It’s beautiful, and powerful, and life-giving even as it claims life. I feel,” I pause to consider. “I feel as though humanity is somehow unwelcome in the sea, unwelcome in the oceans. As though we were only ever intended to crest the surface, but never dive deep. I prefer the land to the waters of the seas, even though I can’t deny there is an allure to all that is the unknown of the oceans.”

Hades stands, moving purposefully closer to me. I am forced to tip my head back so that I might keep my eyes on his. His fingers twitch at his sides, but he doesn’t touch me.

His lips part and he speaks low, soft, even though there is a hint of that ever-present danger. The way he crooks his head to capture my eyes with his own—he steals my breath. “Why do I feel like you are keeping secrets from me, little goddess?”

My heart is a hammer in my chest. My voice sounds hoarse. I cock my head just so. “Fair play, is it not?”

He arcs a brow. “How so?”

“You keep things from me.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Everything.”

His eyes flash with flames that are there and gone. It’s a blink, but I’m confident I see them. He promises, “In time.”

“Hades.” His name is a protest. “Why won’t you let me know you?”

“Because you still think you’re leaving me come September.”

My lips part, and I watch as his eyes hone in on the movement. It’s predatory and enthralling. A flush of heat blooms just under the surface of my skin. Tingles of need spark deep within the depths of my core.

“I have to leave, Hades.”

“Why?”

“I can’t just stay. It doesn’t work like that.” Another arc of lightning, another crack of thunder. Noc looses a doggy huff, and the girls stand to circle the hot tub, but I don’t tear my eyes from Hades. “It’s not that simple.”

“Tell me what is so complicated, and I’ll uncomplicate it.” He speaks with such certainty. As though there is no other alternative.

I sigh. “Hades.”

He catches me around the back of the neck, but he doesn’t pull me up against his hard chest. Instead, he dips his head low, the fire in his breath warming my cool skin. “Tell me, Persephone, what is so complicated?”

“My parents. I’m here on a visa. I have no means to support myself, and I can’t rely on you—on a man I only just met—to care for me.” I huff, annoyed. “The list goes on.”

“You are a young woman making a life for yourself. Your parents not only need to accept that fact, but should do so happily, because as your parents, they should be eager to support you and your dreams. Your visa is not an issue, there are ways around that. And as for accepting my support, for relying on me, why can’t you?”

“Hades…”

His grip on my neck tightens on a pulse even as he rises once again to his full, overbearing height. Towering over me. “I would be happy to support you, Persephone. In any way that keeps you with me.”

“You think that now but—but what happens when you decide you’re done with me? That you’ve matured beyond me? That I can’t offer you the things you need or want? What then?”

“That won’t happen.” Again, he speaks with such confidence.

I wet my lips, my belly clenching at the dark desire that twists the shadows in his eyes. “You can’t know that. You’re a man. You have all this life experience under your belt and I have none . You know exactly who you are, while I—I don’t know myself at all.”

“I would like nothing more than to watch you learn the woman you are.” He speaks low, his chin dipped into his chest as I look up at him. I am helpless to do anything but draw his breaths into my very lungs. “Even better, I would take the utmost pleasure in helping you discover the woman you are, and the things you like.”

I can’t ignore the wicked light that illuminates the shadows in his eyes with flame as I scoot to the edge of my seat, closer to him. “Then let me learn.” I hold his eyes with my own, daring him to reject me this time. “ Let me learn you, Hades. Let me see you. Let me touch you.” I think I hear his breath hitch. It powers me on, and I lift my hands from the water to curl my fingertips into the band of his shorts, but I don’t pull.

With my eyes and with my voice, I beg, “Let me pleasure you .”