A Game of Fate (Hades Saga #1)(101)

“That’s not what I—”

“Isn’t it? Let me tell you what else makes me pathetic. I fell for you.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. His heart felt like it was suffocating in his chest. She looked as devastated as he felt, and he wanted to touch her, but she pushed away vehemently, putting distance between them. “Don’t!”

He did as she asked, though his whole body wanted to deny her request. The only thing he wanted to do was be near her, because she loved him. Because he loved her.

He should tell her.

But she was so angry and hurt.

“What would Aphrodite have gotten if you had failed?”

He did not want to answer, because he knew what she would think. At this moment, she felt as if everything Demeter had taught her was true. She would think that Hades would do anything to keep his people in his realm, even deceive her, but he answered anyway.

“She asked that one of her heroes be returned to the living.”

A request he would happily grant if it meant she would stay.

“Well, you won. I love you,” she said, and he wanted to collapse. “Was it worth it?”

“It wasn’t like that, Persephone!” he said, desperate for her to understand, and as she turned from him, he asked, “You would believe Aphrodite’s words over my actions?”

She paused and faced him, and he could see that her body shook, could feel her power racing in her blood. He could smell her magic, and it was heavenly, a scent so unlike anything he had experienced. It was distinctly her—a warm mix of vanilla and sunshine and fresh spring air. But she said nothing, and he shook his head, disappointed in her inability to understand this situation, her worth, her power.

“You are your own prisoner.”

Those words broke her open. He saw it the moment the last syllable fell. There was a loud rushing in his ears akin to a scream, and great, black vines shot through the floor, tangling around his arms and wrists like restraints. He was shocked; her power had come to life and it had been directed at him.

She had created life.

In the aftermath, she breathed deep, chest heaving. He would have liked to commend her, celebrate her, love her. This was her potential, a taste of the magic inside her, but it had taken her anger to unleash it.

He tested the restraints; they were strong and tightened as he pulled, as vengeful as she was in her anger. He met her gaze and laughed humorlessly. Looking at her was like seeing his death, a day he thought would never come.

“Well, Lady Persephone. It looks like you won.”





CHAPTER XXX – CHEATER




A day later, Hades stood before Tantalus, bident in hand. Since Hades had appeared in his office, the soul had glared at him. He showed no remorse for his treatment of Persephone, though Hades was not surprised. After years of dealing with true evil, he had come to understand that not everyone who experienced eternal torture would change.

Sometimes, it only made them worse.

“You wished for me to feel desperate and starved and alone,” he said, twisting the bident in his hand. “Shall I tell you how I feel at this very moment?”

Hades leveled the pointed ends at the soul, one aimed at his breastbone and the other at his navel.

“I feel numb,” he hissed. “Do you know what it is to feel this way, mortal king?”

There was a glint in Tantalus’ eyes and a tick to his mouth as he started to smirk.

Yes, Hades thought. Smile at my pain. Your torture will be sweet.

“In the last week, I have felt things I have never felt before. Me, an eternal god. I pleaded for the love of my life to stay. I am starved for sleep without her beside me. I am alone. I feel as you claim, Tantalus.”

The mortal began to laugh, and it was a terrifying cackle, raspy and broken.

Hades pushed on the bident, and the sharpened edges sunk into his skin. The man was still laughing when he began to gurgle and cough, spattering blood upon Hades’ face.

The God of the Dead did not blink.

“Do you know how I know you have never felt this way?” Hades continued. “Because no man would laugh in the face of this pain, even you, bastard that you are.”

Hades shoved the bident clear through Tantalus’ body, and it lodged in the wall behind him.

“My lord.”

Hades turned to find Ilias standing in the doorway. The satyr glanced passively at the dead mortal pinned to Hades’ wall. This was not an unusual display for either of them.

“Sisyphus has arrived. He awaits you in the Diamond Suite.”

It had taken weeks, but Hades’ promise of a bargain had finally lured the mortal to Nevernight.

“Shall I call in a crew?” he asked, looking at Tantalus again.

Hades frowned. He had made a mess.

“No,” he said. “I’ll bring him back after he rots and torture him again.”

Hades started to shift when Ilias stopped him again.

“Perhaps it’s the look you’re going for,” he said, “but you do appear to have just murdered someone.”

Hades stared down at his clothes, spattered with fresh blood. He could leave it, perhaps it would serve as a warning to Sisyphus, except that Hades knew there was little that could scare the mortal now. He had, after all, run from Hades twice. The god snapped his fingers, restoring his pristine appearance, before teleporting to the Diamond Suite.