A Game of Retribution (Hades Saga #2)(21)

Her features hardened and her eyes turned a vibrant green. Her glamour was burning away, which was how he knew she was truly mad.

“He has taken away her livelihood! She has nothing and will have nothing unless Apollo is exposed!”

But his frustration was growing too, and he drained his glass only to pour a second. He started to drink this one too but paused, staring at the amber liquid, one hand braced against the bar top, knowing that what he said next would just exacerbate the situation.

“You cannot write about Apollo, Persephone.”

“I’ve told you before, you can’t tell me who to write about, Hades.”

He set the glass down and turned to face her. He felt like a fucking giant, towering over her, yet she just seemed to grow braver.

“Then you should not have told me your plans.”

He regretted those words as soon as he spoke them. He was glad she had shared her intentions, but would she again given how this was turning out?

He wasn’t so sure.

“He won’t get away with this, Hades!”

Her fists clenched, and he could sense her magic awakening beneath her skin. There was a part of him that wanted to reach out and touch her, urged on by his own magic, which always seemed desperate to tangle with hers.

“I’m not disagreeing with you,” he said, realizing that he had to change his approach or she would never see reason. “But you aren’t going to be the one to serve justice, Persephone.”

“Who, if not me? No one else is willing to challenge him. The public adores him.”

And they always had.

Apollo was the golden god, the light bringer, the epitome of youth and male beauty in ancient Greece. He had numerous temples built in his honor and even more today. His most basic role was driving away the darkness— something all mortals feared. He was their hero, the representation of everything good in their society. If they let themselves see the bad, they’d be forced to acknowledge the cracks in their own world.

And no one wanted that.

“All the more reason for you to be strategic,” he said. “There are other ways to have your justice.”

She glared at him. “What are you so afraid of? I wrote about you, and look at the good that came out of it.”

If she was referring to their relationship, that would have been achieved by their bargain without her scathing articles, though he could admit that her words made him want to prove her wrong, to be better, and some good had come from them. The Halcyon Project, for example. But everything else was a thorn in his side, especially the public’s obsession with both of them.

“I am a reasonable god,” he said, though Persephone raised a brow at his response. “Not to mention you intrigued me. I do not want Apollo intrigued by you.”

Her features softened for the first time since they began this argument.

“You know I’ll be careful,” she said, taking a single step closer. “Besides, would Apollo really mess with what’s yours?”

She really had no idea.

He frowned and held out his hand.

“Come,” he said, sitting in a chair before the fire. He pulled her to him, her knees framing his thighs. She leaned against him enough so that he could feel the softness of her breasts against his chest and still hold his gaze.

“You do not understand the Divine. I cannot protect you from another god. It is a fight you would have to win on your own.”

Hades could not prevent retribution between a god and their target, even if it was Persephone. The only possible way was to bargain, and no god wanted to owe another.

Especially Hades.

But for her—for this goddess whom he loved more than anything—he would bargain, and that made what she asked next somehow more painful.

“Are you saying you wouldn’t fight for me?”

He wouldn’t just fight.

He would dismantle the world, and he would only feel remorse for Persephone, who would grieve for humanity. As he stared at her, innocent and beautiful, he thought he could see a hint of fear at whatever she saw in his eyes. He hated it but could not deny this darkness. It was as much a part of him as his magic—as her fate was woven with his.

He brushed a piece of hair from her face before trailing his fingers over her cheek.

“Darling,” he said, his voice low and fierce. “I would burn this world for you.”

Then he kissed her and cupped her face with his hands, moving them into her hair. Her lips parted for him, and his tongue slipped into her mouth.

When her arms closed around his neck and her body melded fully to his, he felt as though he were no longer grounded. The world had fallen away, and it was only them and sensation. It was how he knew he could end worlds for her.

He pulled away only to rest his forehead against hers, their breath coming harshly against their lips.

“I am begging you,” he said, drawing back only a fraction to meet her gaze, his voice barely a whisper. “Do not write about the God of Music.”

She nodded. “But what about Sybil? If I do not expose him, who will help her?”

He understood her worry for Sybil. Being the chosen oracle of Apollo was no easy task. They were part of the reason he got away with so many of his antics and how he maintained his status among the public. Sybil knew Apollo’s behaviors, and she had stuck to her values when she had denied the god. It was that fact that led Hades to believe she would be okay.