She shook her head slightly, brows furrowing, and asked, “Why?”
“Because…” He felt stupid. In all his lifetimes, he had never had to explain himself. “It is important to me. I would rather explore your anger. I would hear your advice. I wish to understand your perspective.”
She started to speak again, and he knew what she would ask. Why? So, he answered, “Because you have lived among mortals. You understand them better than I. Because you are compassionate.”
She looked away, a faint color in her cheeks. After a moment, she asked in a quiet tone, “Why did you help the mother tonight?”
“Because I wished to,” he said, and he could practically feel Hecate’s eyes rolling. You can do better than that. I said communicate!
“And Orpheus?”
Hades offered a raspy sigh, rubbing his eyes with his forefinger and thumb. Hecate was right—he had to do better with his explanations.
“It isn’t so simple. Yes, I have the ability to resurrect the dead, but it does not work with everyone, especially where the Fates are involved. Eurydice’s life was cut short by the Fates for a reason. I cannot touch her.”
“But the girl?”
“She wasn’t dead, just in limbo. I can bargain with the Fates for lives in limbo.”
“What do you mean, bargain with the Fates?”
“It is a fragile thing,” he said. “If I ask the Fates to spare one soul, I do not get a say in the life of another.”
It meant that another life in limbo would be taken, something Hades tried hard not to think about in this moment.
“But…you are the God of the Underworld!”
He was, but that did not mean he would overrule decisions. Even if he could, he’d learned long ago there are consequences for such actions, and some burdens he was unwilling to bear. There was always a greater purpose at work, and for him to interfere would mean ruin.
“And the Fates are Divine,” he said. “I must respect their existence as they respect mine.”
“That doesn’t seem fair.”
“Doesn’t it? Or is it that it doesn’t sound fair to mortals?”
Persephone’s eyes flashed, a hint of her glamour reeling beneath her skin. “So mortals have to suffer for the sake of your game?”
“It is not a game, Persephone. Least of all mine,” he shot back, frustrated. Had he not done a good enough job explaining the balance of the Underworld? Or was it that she really wanted to think the worst of him?
“So, you’ve offered an explanation for part of your behavior, but what of the other bargains?”
Hades slanted his head, his brows slamming down over his eyes, and he took a step forward. He did not like her question. He had answered this, was she still not satisfied with his answer? Or was she angry about her own bargain? He expected her to backdown at his approach, but she did not, remaining where she was and lifting her chin in defiance.
“Are you asking for yourself or the mortals you claim to defend?”
“Claim?” Again, that light in her eyes stirred, and Hades wanted to smile at it.
Yes, my queen. Let me feed that fire, awaken your power.
“You only became interested in my business ventures after you entered into a contract with me,” Hades pointed out. It was true. Would she have started this witch hunt had he let her leave his club unattached?
“Business ventures? Is that what you call willfully misleading me?”
“So this is about you.”
“What you have done is unjust. Not just to me, but to all the mortals—”
“I do not want to talk about mortals. I would like to talk about you.” Hades leaned in closer, guiding Persephone toward the bookcase. His hands caged her, one on either side of her face. “Why did you invite me to your table?”
Persephone looked away, and Hades’ eyes lowered to her neck as she swallowed. “You said you’d teach me.”
She whispered the words, and they skittered down his spine, making him shiver, making him want to press into her, to cradle her softness between his thighs.
“Teach you what, goddess?” His lips dropped to her skin, and he brushed the column of her neck. He felt her shiver as he whispered words against her skin. “What did you truly desire to learn then?”
“Cards.”
The word was breathy, and the air between them was thick, a tangible weight full of erotic thoughts and fantasies. Her head fell back, supported by the bookcase, and her hands gripped the shelves as if she were fighting her own instincts and the voice in her head that commanded she touch him too.