A Game of Fate (Hades Saga #1)(76)

Despite the gag around his mouth, Sisyphus managed a muffled scream.

“Silence,” Hades said, and stole the man’s voice. His eyes widened when he could no longer make sound, and he kicked and flopped on the floor, like a fish out of water.

Once there was silence, Hades lifted his gaze to Theseus. Something wasn’t right about this.

“What is it you want?” Hades asked.

He was not ignorant. He could see Theseus was eager for power and hungry for control. His soul was an iron tower, strong and unshakable. It was why he had kidnapped Sisyphus—he desired something from him. Hades understood that now.

“For returning the spindle, I would like a favor.” He paused, then added, “For Sisyphus, I ask for nothing.”

“How generous.”

He smirked, but the amusement did not touch his eyes. “How kind of you to say.”

Hades considered Theseus’ request. He did not feel comfortable offering him a favor, as it was an open-ended request, something Hades would be obligated to fulfill due to the binding nature of favors and immortal blood.

Yet a favor was no unfitting request for what the immortal had returned to him. He had essentially ensured his future with Persephone.

Still, Hades found that he had questions.

His eyes narrowed as he stated, “You are Divine, and yet I hear you lead Triad.”

“Are you asking a question, my lord?”

“I am merely trying to suss out what you stand for.”

That smile returned, and Hades knew why he disliked it so much. It was a smile that belonged to his brother.

“Freewill, freedom—”

“Not Triad,” Hades said, cutting him off. “You. What do you stand for?”

“Can you not see?” he challenged.

Yes, Hades wanted to hiss. I see your soul. Corrupt. Hungry for power, just as his father but without the failure, and that made him dangerous because it made him feel invincible.

“I am merely wondering what the difference is between your rule and mine.”

“There are no rulers in Triad.”

Hades cocked a brow. “No? Tell me, what is your title again? High lord?”

Hades knew what was happening here. He recognized Theseus’ ambition, because his brothers had shared it on the cusp of Titanomachy.

“Are the other high lords demi-gods too?” Hades tilted his head, narrowing his eyes. “Have you hope of ushering in a new legion of Divinity?”

“Feeling threatened, uncle?” Theseus asked.

Hades offered a wicked smile, and he saw Theseus’ confidence wavier.

“Hubris is always punished, Theseus. If not in life, always in death.”

“Rest assured, uncle, if Nemesis welcomes me upon my death, it shall not be a punishment, but confirmation that I have lived as I wished. Can you say the same? A tortured god with an eternal existence, whose chance at love hinges upon this mortal’s capture?” Theseus paused. “I’ll take that favor now.”

Hades ground his teeth so hard, he thought they might break.

“I will grant your request,” Hades said. “But it will not be Nemesis who greets you upon your death.”

He would, and he would revel in the process of torturing this immortal who had used Persephone as leverage. He would separate skin from body and watch as crows feasted upon the remains.

With the promise of a favor, Theseus left. Hades’ gaze fell to Sisyphus, who was trying to push himself away from the god.

“You should not have granted him such a gift,” Ilias said. “You do not know what he will ask.”

“I know what he will ask for,” Hades said.

“And what is that?”

“Power,” Hades replied. Raw power in any form, and with a favor to hang over Hades’ head, he had it.

Hades’ bent toward Sisyphus, and as he spoke, the mortal began to quiver.

“Welcome to Tartarus.”

***

Hades teleported to Hephaestus’ lab. Normally, he would arrive via the front gates and pay his respects to Aphrodite, but since La Rose, he had not wished to see her, and he did not wish for her to hear what he had come to ask for. He found the god at his forge, his large body hulked before an open-mouthed furnace that spit fire and sparks as he hammered on a flat piece of metal—a sword—gripped between a pair of tongs. Hades could tell by the set of the god’s shoulders and the force with which he worked that he was angry.

The sight made him apprehensive, so he rang a bell near the door to get the god’s attention. Hades was not surprised when Hephaestus twisted and threw the flat piece of metal he’d been hammering in his direction.

Hades sidestepped as it landed in the wall behind him.

There was a beat of silence, and then Hades asked, “Are you okay?”

Hephaestus’ chest rose with his breath. “Yes.”

The god threw his tongs down and turned fully to him. “What can I help you with, Lord Hades? Another weapon?”

“No,” Hades replied. “Are you sure you don’t need a minute?”

Hephaestus’ stare was hard. Hades took that as a no.

“I do not wish for a weapon,” he said. “I wish for a ring.”

Hephaestus did not appear as if he cared, though his voice betrayed his surprise. “A ring? An engagement ring?”