A Touch of Ruin (Hades x Persephone #2)(93)

She rolled over and sat. Her knee was a mess, and pieces of dirt stuck to the blood. Hades stood beside Antoni and they stared down at her.

“It’s okay. I don’t even feel it.”

She tried to stand but her head was pretty fuzzy, and she was aware she was slurring some of her words. She hated that she was in this state.

She blew out a long breath. “You know, I think I’ll just sit here for a little while.”

Hades said nothing, but this time he scooped her up into his arms and carried her into Nevernight.

When he sat her down, it was behind the bar. He didn’t let her feet touch the ground long before he lifted her and sat her down on the edge of the tabletop. He turned and started to work.

“What are you doing?”

Hades handed her a glass of water. “Drink.”

She did—this time she was thirsty.

While she drank, Hades shed his jacket and filled another glass of water. He cleaned her wounded knee, washing the dirt and blood away. After, he covered it with his hand, and his warmth healed.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

Hades stepped back, leaning against the counter opposite her. She had to admit, she didn’t like the distance. It was like he still had a hold of her heart and was stretching it as he moved.

“Are you punishing me?” Hades asked.

“What?”

“This,” he said, pointing to her. “The clothes, Apollo, the drinking?”

She frowned and looked down at her dress.

“You don’t like my clothes?”

He glared at her, and for some reason that made her angry. She pushed off the counter and shimmied the dress up over her hips.

“What are you doing?” Hades asked. His eyes glinted, but she couldn’t tell if he was amused or aroused.

“Taking off the dress.”

“I can see that. Why?”

“Because you don’t like it.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t like it,” he replied.

Still, he didn’t stop her.

The dress was off. She stood naked in front of him.

Hades eyes raked her frame.

Gods.

Her whole body tingled, like her skin was a collection of exposed nerves. Her fingers itched to touch, to pleasure—either herself or him, she really didn’t care.

“Why weren’t you wearing anything under that dress?”

“I couldn’t,” she said. “Didn’t you see it?”

Hades jaw ticked.

“I’m going to murder Apollo,” he said, mostly under his breath.

“Why?”

“For fun.” His voice was gruff, and Persephone giggled.

“You're jealous.”

“Don’t push me, Persephone.”

“It wasn’t like Apollo knew,” she said, watching Hades drink straight from a whiskey bottle he’d retrieved from the wall. “Hermes was the one who suggested it.”

The bottle shattered. One moment, it was whole in Hades’ hands and the next moment, glass and alcohol covered the floor at Hades’ feet.

“Motherfucker.”

Persephone wasn’t sure if the curse was from what she’d said about Hermes or the whiskey he’d just wasted.

“Are you okay?” she asked quietly.

“Forgive me if I am a little on edge. I have been forced into celibacy.”

Persephone rolled her eyes. “No one ever said you couldn’t fuck me.”

“Careful, Goddess,” his voice rumbled, deep and terrifying. It was the voice he used when he punished. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”

“I think I know what I’m asking for, Hades. It’s not like we’ve never had sex.”

He didn’t move, but he tilted his head a little, and her body tightened, knowing whatever he was about to ask would make her body quiver.

“Are you wet for me?”

She was, he knew it and his restraint was pissing her off. She tilted her head and challenged, “Why don’t you come and find out?”

She waited, and Hades’ chest rose and fell quickly, his knuckles turned white as he grasped the counter behind him. When he didn’t move, she decided she’d just bring up Apollo—it was what he deserved.

“Why didn’t you let Apollo see Hyacinth after his death?”

“You really know how to kill a boner, darling, I’ll give you that.”

The god turned back to the array of liquor and found another bottle. Persephone crossed her arms over her chest, the buzz from the alcohol wearing off, she suddenly no longer felt like being naked. She reached for Hades’ jacket. As she slipped it on, it swallowed her.

“He said he blamed you for his death.”

“He did,” Hades response was short. “Much like you blamed me for Lexa’s accident.”

“I never said I blamed you,” she argued.

“You blamed me because I couldn’t help. Apollo did the same.”

Persephone pressed her lips together and took a breath. “I’m not…trying to fight with you. I just want to know your side.”

Hades considered this as he took a drink from the bottle he’d taken from the shelf. She couldn’t tell what it was—but it wasn’t whiskey.