A Game of Fate (Hades Saga #1)(55)

Her features hardened, and her lips pressed into a thin line. “Your arrogance is alarming.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“Just tell me what happened, Hades!” she snapped.

He met her ferocious stare with just as much venom before answering, “You were drugged at La Rose. You’re lucky you are immortal. Your body burned through the poison fast.”

She was quiet for a moment, processing the information he had shared. Her gaze left his, as if searching the middle distance for answers to her questions.

“Adonis,” she said suddenly, eyes narrowing in accusation. “What did you do to him?”

Hades ground his teeth and focused on the remaining liquor in his glass rather than her gaze. He downed the last bit before setting it aside. “He is alive, but that is only because he was in his goddess’s territory.”

“You knew!” She pushed off the bed, the sheets rustling around her. He wanted to take them from her, challenge her to stand bare and confident before him as she had last night. “Is that why you warned me to stay away from him?”

“I assure you, there are more reasons to stay away from that mortal than the favor Aphrodite has bestowed upon him.”

“Like what?” she asked, taking a step toward him. “You can’t expect me to understand if you don’t explain anything.”

What need have I to explain? He kissed you when you did not want him to, Hades wanted to say, but it was possible she did not remember.

“I expect that you will trust me.” He stood, swiping his glass off the table and refilling it at the bar. “And if not me, then my power.”

He was more than aware she knew of his ability to see what mortals tried to hide with charms and lies. It was a power she condemned in her article, claiming he used it to prey upon their darkest secrets.

“I thought you were jealous!”

The laugh that ruptured from the back of Hades’ throat sounded harsh, even to his ears. He was not sure why he mocked her either, but maybe it was because he just now realized his jealousy, now that he was beyond the anger and the challenge last night had posed to his sense of control.

“Don’t pretend you don’t get jealous, Hades. Adonis kissed me last night.”

Hades slammed his glass on the table, betraying himself, and twisted toward her. “Keep reminding me, goddess, and I’ll reduce him to ash.”

“So, you are jealous!” she cried.

“Jealous?” he hissed, stalking toward her. He watched as the excitement of her triumph melted from her face, replaced by an expression he could not discern. He only knew it was not fear. “That…leech touched you after you told him not to. I have sent souls to Tartarus for less.”

He paused a few inches from her, his anger acute, radiating off him like the heat from Helios’ sun.

Until she uttered an apology.

The words fell from her mouth, quiet and breathy. “I’m…sorry.”

He was not sure why she was apologizing, but those words seemed misplaced on the heels of his speech about Adonis.

His brows knitted together, and he cupped her face, stepping closer, sealing the space between them. “Don’t you dare apologize. Not for him. Never for him.”

She covered his hands with her own, and as he searched her eyes, full of kindness and compassion, he felt a little of that fury dissipate and couldn’t help asking, “Why are you so desperate to hate me?”

“I don’t hate you,” she said quietly.

He could not sense the lie, but he could not reconcile why she would write that article about him, not when she did not hate him. He tore away from her.

“No? Shall I remind you? Hades, Lord of the Underworld, rich one, and arguably the most hated god among mortals, exhibits a clear disregard for mortal life.”

As he spoke, she seemed to cower, shoulders rising, growing smaller and smaller beneath her own viscous words.

“This is what you think of me?” he challenged.

“I was angry—”

“Oh, that is more than obvious,” he barked.

“I didn’t know they would publish it!”

“A scathing letter illustrating all of my faults?” He paused to laugh bitterly. “You didn’t think the media would publish it?”

She had used the article as a threat, knowing Hades valued his privacy. She was well-aware that it would be a coveted piece to the media, and yet, there was something troubling about her defense, and that was that he sensed no lie. Still, if she truly meant for it not to go live, why did she write it? And how had it gotten published?

His sarcasm did not win him any compassion from the goddess. Her eyes flashed, and her words slipped from between barred teeth.

“I warned you.”

“You warned me?” Hades raised his brows and offered a breathy laugh. “You warned me about what, goddess?”

“I warned you that you would regret our contract.”

They were words he remembered, spoken as she had straightened the lapels of his jacket and killed the flower in his breast pocket. He had no doubt then, and he had no doubt now.

“And I warned you not to write about me.” He dared to close the distance between them again, knowing it was the wrong thing to do, knowing that their anger only had one outlet.

“Perhaps in my next article, I’ll write about how bossy you are,” she threatened.