A Game of Fate (Hades Saga #1)(83)

Another pang in his chest.

Children.

It was something he could not give to Persephone, an option he had bargained away long ago. Could he really ask her to forgo being a mother to spend her eternity with him?

After a moment of silence, he spoke quietly. “I should let her go.”

Hecate sighed. “You are an idiot.”

Hades glared.

“She is happy!” Hecate argued. “How can you look at her and think you should let her go?”

“We are immortal, Hecate. What if she tires of me?”

“I tire of you,” she said. “I’m still here.”

“I knew I should not have tried to talk to you about this.”

He stared harder at the dance floor when he saw Persephone turn and come face to face with Charon. He bowed to her, that damned smirk upon his lips. He asked her to dance, and she took his hand.

His knuckles turned white as he clenched the arms of his throne.

“You could not let her go,” Hecate said. “You could never see her with another man.”

“If that was what she wanted—”

“She doesn’t want it,” Hecate said, cutting him off. “You must not assume you know her mind just because you have fears. Those are your demons, Hades.”

He gave her a dark look, and for a moment, Hecate’s expression was just as stern, then it softened and the corner of her mouth lifted.

“Let yourself be happy, Hades. You deserve Persephone.”

Then she wandered off into the crowd. Hades’ gaze returned to Persephone. She drew attention like a flame, her beauty, her smile and laughter, her very presence, radiating warmth and passion and life, and despite the fact that he had disliked their earlier separation, he liked watching her. It distracted him from the fact that Minthe returned, taking up space on his left, while Thanatos appeared on his right.

“Come to apologize?” he asked her.

“Fuck you,” she replied.

“He’s done that,” Hermes commented, sidling past them, white wings dragging the ground. He looked ridiculous, bare chested, wearing only a gold shroud over his waist. “It must not have been very good, because I don’t believe he ever went back.”

“Hermes,” Hades growled, but the god was already parting the crowd, heading straight for Persephone. She turned as he approached, and he bowed, asking her to dance. Hades watched, frustrated, as he took her into his arms and swayed, movements exaggerated and taking up space.

It wasn’t that he thought Charon or Hermes would take liberties, or that he was jealous because she danced with them. He was jealous because he felt as if he could not approach her, like the atmosphere of the room would change if he did. He should not fear it, this was his realm, but there was something so vibrant about this night. There was a life here that hadn’t been here before Persephone.

As he thought her name, her gaze snagged on his and held, and he noted the longing in her eyes, as if the distance between them was a strain. It wasn’t long before she broke from her Hermes and approached him, eyes burning and body dripping in gold. It was something out of a fantasy, and he could not help imagining her kneeling before him to take his cock into her mouth. Already it strained, restricted by his robes.

She bowed low, the angle giving him a view of her ample breasts. As she straightened, she asked, “My lord, will you dance?”

He would do anything to touch her, anything to hold her close, anything to feel friction where he desired it most. He rose and took her hand, and did not move his eyes from hers as he led her to the dance floor. He drew her near, every hard line of his body cradled by her softness, reminding him of the way he fit against her as he collapsed atop her after release. A release he wanted now.

“Are you displeased?” she asked.

It took him a moment to detach from his thoughts and focus on her words.

“Am I displeased that you have danced with Charon and Hermes?”

She stared, a frown touching her lips. Obviously, she was concerned about his mood. He leaned into her, lips touching her ear as he spoke.

“I am displeased that I am not inside you,” he whispered gruffly, and drew her earlobe between his teeth.

She shivered against him, and as she spoke, there was a smile in her voice.

“My lord, why didn’t you say so?” she teased.

He drew away, eyes darkening with need, and guided her to spin before pulling her back to him. “Careful, goddess. I have no qualms taking you before my whole realm.”

“You wouldn’t.”

Would, he thought. He would cloak this place in darkness and draw her up his body until she fit snugly on his cock. He would urge her to remain quiet but make it exceedingly hard as he coaxed her to orgasm.

The thoughts were too much, and he found himself pulling Persephone off the floor and up the stairs, his people clapping and whistling, oblivious—or perhaps not so oblivious—to his intentions.

“Where are we going?” Persephone asked, struggling to keep up with his long strides.

“To remedy my displeasure.”

He took her to a balcony that overlooked the palace courtyard. She started to walk ahead of him, drawn to the edge as if she were memorized. He did not blame her, the view was stunning, as the whole Underworld was pitch black, save for the stars which appeared in clusters of various sizes and colors. Hecate had always said Hades’ best work happened in the dark.