***
Hades paced the length of his chamber, waiting for Hecate to give him the signal—a burst of magic she would send when she located his goddess. He had not been able to concentrate since she left. As much as he hated to admit it, Hecate had given him hope.
He paused, frowning at himself in the mirror, realizing for the first time just how much Persephone had changed him. She had made him want things he’d never wanted before, like a life that offered a little more simplicity. He wanted walks and picnics and burnt cookies. He wanted to laugh and to never go to bed alone again.
This was the first time in his life he hoped to lose a bet.
He felt the pulse of Hecate’s magic, and something rock-hard settled in his stomach as he followed it, appearing outside The Coffee House. When he saw Persephone, his whole chest ached. Fuck, she is beautiful. She’d pulled her hair up, away from her graceful neck, but golden ringlets had worked their way free. She wore white, the straps of her dress thin, exposing her lithe, freckled shoulders.
Hecate sat beside her as the two spoke, and he caught part of the conversation.
“So, go to him. Tell him why you hurt, tell him how to fix it. Isn’t that what you’re good at?”
Hades wanted to laugh.
Persephone did and rubbed her eyes, and he thought that maybe she was trying hard not to cry. His chest ache.
“Oh, Hecate. He doesn’t want to see me.”
She was wrong, so wrong. It struck him that perhaps they had both made assumptions about the other. Maybe they had wanted to see each other this whole time. Maybe if he had just done what he had wanted to all along, go to her, see her, hold her, he would not have felt this agony.
“How do you know?” Hecate asked.
“Don’t you think if he wanted me, he would have come for me?”
Oh, darling, Hades thought. I will spend the rest of my life showing you how much I want you.
“Perhaps he was just giving you time,” Hecate replied, and lifted her head to meet his gaze.
Persephone followed her stare, and when their eyes met, she rose from her chair and broke into a run. Their bodies collided in a familiar way as Hades lifted her off the ground and her legs found their home around his waist. Their bodies sealed together tightly.
“I missed you,” he said, his head buried in her hair.
“I missed you, too.”
He would never let her go again.
“I'm sorry,” she whispered. Her fingers brushed his cheek and his lips, and her touch ignited a fire with him so acute, he thought he might turn to ash. He had missed this—burning for her.
“Me, too,” he said. “I love you. I should have told you sooner. I should have told you that night in the baths. I knew then.”
Her smile was beautiful, and it was something he wanted to win every day of his life.
“I love you, too.”
Their lips touched, and that fire inside him grew, heady and molten. His grip tightened, his hands pressing into her lower back. He wanted her to feel how much he missed her, how hard he was for her. He wanted her to understand what awaited her once they left this place. They would spend the weekend in bed, sequestered to his bedroom. He would have her in ways he had never had her before, and she would come, screaming his name, left in no doubt of his love for her.
The claws of her passion reached deep, but before they could commence their weekend of bliss, he had one more thing claim. As he broke their kiss, Persephone gave a frustrated growl and tried to regain their connection. Hades chuckled at her eagerness, holding her just a little tighter, grinding his cock into her softness, a promise that he would soon be inside her.
“I wish to claim my favor, goddess,” he said. For a moment, her eyes widened, so he spoke quickly, hoping to ease her anxiety. “Come to the Underworld with me.”
She opened her mouth, but Hades claimed it in a kiss, and when he pulled away, he rested his forehead against hers.
“Live between worlds,” he begged. “But do not leave us forever. My people, your people, me.”
She gave a breathy laugh, her eyes watering, and nodded. “Of course.”
Hades returned her smile. It was like she had just given him the world, and he would treasure her gift forever. After a moment, Persephone’s grin became impish, and she smoothed her hands across his chest.
“I’m eager for a game of cards.”
He tilted his head. He did not think it was possible, but his cock grew harder at her request, his mind running wild with the possibilities—hours of foreplay, erotic words, and amazing sex.
“Poker?” he asked.