A Game of Fate (Hades Saga #1)(43)

Minthe’s lips flattened. “This is a club. Mortals bargain for their desires; they do not make requests of the God of the Underworld.”

“This club is what I say it is.”

The nymph glared. “You think this will sway the goddess to think better of you?”

His eyes narrowed, and he snarled as he spoke. “I do not care what others think of me, and that includes you, Minthe. I will hear her offer.”

Her severe expression relaxed, eyes widening, and she stood in stunned silence for a moment before leaving without another sound.

Hades was glad he had a few seconds to get a grip on his anger, and it was even more important because he was aware that he had an audience. Persephone’s and Hermes’ magic brushed the edges of his own, igniting his blood in a way that made him want to rage, but before he could spiral, the doors to his office opened and a mortal woman entered.

She was disheveled, like she had dressed hastily. The neckline of her sweater draped off one shoulder, and she wore a long coat that made her body look like a balloon. Despite her haphazard appearance, she held her head high and he sensed determination beneath her broken spirit.

Still, she froze when she saw him, and he hated the way it made his chest feel. He knew why he was the enemy of the world above—because he was shouldered with the blame for taking all loved ones away, because he had done nothing to contradict those ancient beliefs about his hellish realm, but that never bothered him until tonight.

“You have nothing to fear.”

Her voice shook as she laughed. “I told myself I wouldn’t hesitate. I wouldn’t let fear get the best of me.”

Hades tilted his head to the side. There were very few moments in his life when he felt true compassion for a mortal, but he felt it now for this woman. The core of her soul was good and kind and…simple. She wanted for nothing but peace, and yet she had the opposite.

Hades spoke in a quiet voice. “But you have been afraid. For a very long time.”

The woman nodded, and tears spilled down her face. She brushed at them fiercely, hands shaking, and offered that nervous laugh again. “I told myself I wouldn’t cry, either.”

“Why?”

“The Divine are not moved by my pain.”

She was right, he was not moved by her pain, but he was moved by her strength.

“I suppose I cannot blame you,” she continued. “I am one in a million pleading for myself.”

She was one of a million who had made the same request, and yet, this one was still different.

“But you are not pleading for yourself, are you?”

The woman’s mouth quivered, and she answered in a whisper, “No.”

“Tell me.”

“My daughter.” The words were a sob, and she covered her mouth with her hand to quell her emotion. After a moment, she continued, brushing at her face. “She’s sick. Pineoblastoma. It’s an aggressive cancer.”

He studied the woman; the hurt dwelled within her broken soul. She had struggled to conceive. After several devastating miscarriages and painful treatments, she finally had what she wanted—a perfect baby girl. But at two years old, she started having trouble walking and standing, and all the elation the woman had felt turned to despair.

Still, beneath that horrific sorrow, he could sense the hope she still had for her daughter, the dreams she still dreamed for her. The woman had fought to have this child, and she would fight to keep her on Earth, even if it killed her.

And it would.

Hades’ fists tightened at the thought.

“I wager my life for hers.”

Many mortals had offered up the same, the life of one they loved for another, and no one meant it more than the mothers who begged at his feet. Still, he would not accept.

“My wagers are not for souls like you.”

“Please,” the woman whispered. “I will give you anything. Whatever you want.”

A humorless laugh escaped him. What do you know about what I want? he wanted to say as his thoughts turning to Persephone.

“You could not give me what I want.”

The woman blinked, and she seemed to come to some sort of unspoken conclusion, because she hung her head in her hands and her shoulders shook as she sobbed.

“You were my last hope. My last hope.”

Hades approached her, placed his fingers under her chin, and brushed her tears away. “I will not enter into a contract with you, because I do not wish to take from you. That does not mean I will not help you.”

The woman inhaled sharply, her eyes widening with shock at Hades’ words.

“Your daughter has my favor. She will be well and just as brave as her mother, I think.”

“Oh, thank you! Thank you!” The woman threw her arms around him. He stiffened, not expecting her to react physically, but after a moment, his grip on her tightened before he pulled her away. “Go. See to your daughter.”

The woman took a few steps away. “You are the most generous god.”

Hades’ lips twitched as he chuckled. “I will amend my previous statement. In exchange for my favor, you will tell no one I have aided you.”

The woman’s brows rose. “But—”

He held up his hand to silence her. He had his reasons for asking for anonymity, among them that this offer could be misinterpreted. He could offer her reassurance that her daughter would be okay because she was not dead yet, just in limbo. It was not the same as Orpheus asking for Eurydice’s return to the Upperworld.