“Lady Persephone.” Her title felt heavy on his tongue, and at his words, she met his gaze, and again, he was startled by her bright eyes—as wild as the rivers of Tartarus and as green as the Asphodel Valley. Something changed in her composure when she looked at him. She straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin.
“Lord Hades.”
She addressed him formally and offered a sharp nod. He was not sure what he did not like about it—the fact that she had used his title, or her ceremonial body language. He frowned but could not think long on the subject, because Duncan drew his attention.
“My lord.” The ogre sunk to his knees and hung his head low. “I did not know she was a goddess. I accept punishment for my actions.”
“Punishment?” Persephone echoed. She crossed her arms over her chest as if she were uncomfortable with the idea. Hades gritted his teeth, the same fury that had overcome him in the Underworld blazed again.
“I laid my hands upon a goddess,” Duncan said.
“And a woman at that,” Hades added unhappily.
Duncan had it wrong. His impending punishment had nothing to do with the fact that he had touched someone of Divine blood—it was that he had hurt a woman. Hades was not tolerant of violence against women or children. In fact, he hated it so much, there was a special level in Tartarus for those responsible of such crimes, and their punishments were doled out by the Furies themselves, the three feared Goddesses of Vengeance, Nemesis, the Goddess of Retribution, and Hecate, who took it upon herself to personally punish abusers.
No human or humanoid was excused, whether in Hades’ employment or not.
“I will deal with you later,” Hades promised. “Now, Lady Persephone.”
He stepped aside, making room for her to enter Nevernight. She did not hesitate like he thought she might, entering the darkness of his club like she owned it. He shut the door behind her, and for a moment, they were trapped together and the scent of their magic twined and overwhelmed. Hades recognized the rigidness in Persephone’s stance, because he had gone just as still. Her reaction relaxed him, probably because he found hope in the idea that he affected her in the same way.
He considered challenging what was building between them, stepping close and drawing her gleaming hair away from her neck. He could practically hear her shuddering breath as he pressed as kiss to her soft skin. Would she melt in his arms then? Or would she fight?
He drew close. He did not think it was possible, but she became even more rigid, back ramrod straight. She was wound tight, a viper ready to strike. It was a bite he would endure willingly, and he leaned in, his jaw brushing the side of her face, his lips touching her ear.
“You are full of surprises, darling.”
He was too arrogant, he realized, unprepared for his body’s reaction to her. Her scent sunk into his skin, igniting his blood. He grew heavy and hard at the thought of wrapping his arm around her waist, pulling her against him, consuming her.
Fuck.
An audible breath brought him back to reality, and before she could face him, he was opening the interior door to Nevernight, breaking the strange spell between them.
“After you, goddess.”
She blinked, and he noted the confusion in her expression. Maybe she thought what she had just experienced was an illusion. He half-expected her to flee, but again, that spark of defiance entered her eyes. She kept his gaze as she brushed past him—both a challenge and a tease.
He followed behind her and watched as she approached the balcony, eyes scanning the floor below. He wondered what she was looking for but did not ask, just waited until she looked at him and continued down the stairs.
Her heels clicked as she followed him across the floor, which was how he knew she had stopped moving, because the club grew quiet.
“Where are we going?” she asked. There was suspicion in her voice, and he reminded himself that just because she had entered Nevernight willingly, it was not show of trust.
Hades paused, turning to look at her.
He should not have looked back. It almost made him question what he was doing, luring this beautiful goddess farther into his realm.
“My office,” he said. “I imagine that whatever you have to say to me demands privacy?”
She raised a brow, glancing at the empty space. “This seems pretty private.”
“It isn’t.” He turned and headed upstairs, pleased when he heard the click of her heels following.
At the top of the stairs, he turned toward his office and opened one of the two large doors bearing one of his symbols in gold—a bident—coiled with vines and flowers. When he turned to Persephone, she was still standing a few feet away. Her distance frustrated him.