A Game of Fate (Hades Saga #1)(27)

“I want her to be happy.”

***

Hades appeared at the center of a perfectly green meadow on the island of Sicily, where fifty pure-white cows grazed. A few feet away, Helios’s daughters, Phaethusa and Lampetie, slept beneath a fig tree, their wheezing breaths disrupting the silence of the night.

Hades had to admit, he felt a little guilty that these two would incur Helios’ wrath come morning, but not enough to leave their father unpunished for his vitriol.

Just as Hades began to select the best of Helios’ cattle to take with him to the Underworld, his phone rang.

It never rang.

Something is wrong.

“Yes?” he answered quickly, despite the chance he would wake the two sisters.

It was Ilias.

“My lord,” he said. “Lady Persephone is missing.”

He had never felt such a terrifying sense of dread. A thousand emotions converged upon him at once—rage and fear and alarm. He wanted to demand to know why Ilias had not watched her better, wanted to know where he had looked, wanted to threaten to end his life if he found her in any condition other than pristine.

But he knew Ilias, and by now, he knew Persephone.

Beautiful, defiant Persephone.

She was not one to obey, especially when told.

“I will be there in seconds,” Hades replied and hung up.

There was a beat of silence where Hades wrestled with every demon inside him. This fear was irrational, but it told him something important.

If the Fates did take her away, the world would not survive.

After a moment, he looked up, observing the white cows and spoke.

“I had hoped to take my time selecting only the best of you to join me in my realm, but it seems I am out of time.”

When Hades vanished, so did every cow in the meadow.





CHAPTER IX – A GAME OF FEAR & FURY




As soon as Hades’ feet touched Underworld soil, he could sense Persephone. Her presence in his realm was like an extension of himself. It weighted on his chest just as heavily as the thread that connected them.

He teleported again and appeared in the Fields of Mourning, where shoots of white gladioli and orchids grew. The Fields were once reserved for those who had wasted their lives on unrequited love. It had been one of the decisions Hades had made early in his reign and was born from his anger toward the Fates. If he was not destined to love, then he would punish those who had died because of it. He had since sent the souls who once resided here to other parts of the Underworld, letting the field remain beautifully landscaped, as it was the view the souls were treated to on their way to the Field of Judgement.

A few feet from where he had appeared, lying on the bank of the Styx, was Persephone. He attempted to absorb the scene through his rage—Persephone was on her back, her hair was wet, and she was covered with Hermes’ gold cloak, the thin, metallic material clinging to her damp body. Hermes knelt over her; his lips curled in a smile. He was clearly interested in Persephone, and he watched as the god tapped his lips, spoke, and made Persephone laugh.

That was when Hades decided to separate them.

He sent a burst of power barreling toward the god, who went flying halfway across the Underworld. Still, Hades frowned when Hermes did not land as far away as he had hoped, but the impact of his body hitting the ground was satisfying enough.

Hades strolled toward Persephone, who rose and turned, craning her neck to meet his gaze. She shifted Hermes’ cloak so that it draped over her shoulders, revealing the dress she had worn to his club—a thin, silver number with a neckline that teased the curve of her breasts. Now that it was wet, it clung to them, accentuating the peaks of her hard nipples.

Fucking Fates, Hades thought as a fire burned a path down his chest straight to his groin.

“Why did you do that?” Persephone demanded.

The god frowned, clenching his jaw. He could not tell if it was to suppress his reaction to her body or the fact that she was angry about Hermes.

“Your try my patience, goddess, and my favor,” he replied.

“So you are a goddess!” Hermes shouted enthusiastically, despite crawling from the pit his body had made upon impact.

Persephone narrowed her eyes, and Hades realized that he had only succeeded in making her more frustrated by outing her.

“He will keep your secret, or he will find himself in Tartarus,” Hades promised, driving his point home by glaring at the God of Mischief, who approached now, brushing dirt and grime from his person. Hades found it amusing to see the god in disarray, as he prided himself on his appearance like many gods.

“You know, Hades, not everything has to be a threat. You could try asking once in a while. Just like you could have asked me to step away from your goddess here instead of throwing me halfway across the Underworld.”

“I’m not his goddess! And you!” Persephone’s tone was full of disdain as she made her way to her feet. Hades narrowed his eyes, unable to put into words how much he hated being spoken to in this manner before another Olympian, especially Hermes. “You could be nicer to him. He did save me from your river!”

“You wouldn’t have had to be saved from my river if you had waited for me!”

“Right, because you were otherwise engaged. Whatever that means.”

She rolled her eyes. Was she…jealous? Hades wondered.